Chapter 24

On Wednesday 2nd January 1974, Mum had us all out of bed early, well before the midwinter dawn, to have a massive cooked breakfast to set us up for whatever the day would throw at us.

She had made Jen and I a huge packet of food to take with us, just in case the catering at Jen's Hall of Residence wasn't functioning, and a slightly smaller packed lunch for her and Dad to eat in the car on the way back from Reading, with extra just in case they got delayed by bad weather.

Breakfast over, she set Jen and I to do the washing up, and told us to make some flasks of tea for the journey, while she got herself dressed.

Dad had deliberately packed the car with the weight over the back wheels so they would grip, and had included a shovel, a bag of gravel, and some blankets in case we did run into snow. The seven o'clock weather forecast on the radio had warned that it was going to be a cold day with snow on high ground, with the possibility of more snow than expected. Dad wasn't one to take unnecessary chances, anyway!

"Well, we're prepared in case it does snow heavily before we get back home, but the problem is normally the idiots who aren't ready for snow, who get themselves stuck and block the road for everyone!"

Once Dad had scraped the ice off the windscreen and warmed the car up to his satisfaction, we left home in the very first light of day, shortly before 8.30, and Jen and I were dropped off at her Hall of Residence just after midday.

We had managed to hold hands under the rug which we had spread over our laps for most of the journey, and the squeezes I was getting back from Jen suggested that she was looking forward to getting to her bedroom even more than I was!

Mum and Dad quickly dumped us and our luggage on the pavement in front of Jen's Hall, told us not to argue too much, kissed us both, and abandoned us with almost indecent haste in their rush to be safely home before dark. We didn't blame them!

The two of us waved goodbye in the general direction of their rapidly departing car, grinned at each other, then loaded up all our baggage, and took it up to her room on the third floor.

The room was actually quite a decent size, with a bed, built in storage cupboards, a desk and two chairs, a sink and a useful counter with a double socket for kettle and toaster. It was about the same size as Sian's room in Cardiff, which is roughly what I had imagined from Jen's description.

Like in most public institutions, the centrally-controlled heating had remained on over the holidays and made the room hot and very stuffy, and we quickly opened the window for some fresh air. We dumped all our stuff on the bed, and hung our duffel coats up on the back of the door.

Jen said that they started serving lunch at half past twelve, and suggested that we might as well get there while the food was still freshly cooked. That seemed a very good idea to me.

There were toilets and bathrooms just down the corridor, and we quickly had a pee, washed our hands, and headed downstairs to the dining hall for our lunch.

It was dimly lit, and virtually deserted. Jen approached the solitary server and asked if she could buy a meal for her guest.

"Oh, don't worry about that, dearie, it looks like we've overcatered, so we'll be delighted to have the food eaten! Sorry about the lack of lights, but we've been told to save electricity."

The choice for lunch was very limited, but we both had firsts and seconds of a decent shortcrust pastry-topped beef pie with peas and chips, and loaded a plate up with mince pies and satsumas to take back upstairs. Jen grabbed a couple of third-pint bottles of milk, we thanked the server, and left her to continue her yawning over her hot plates.

I remembered that Mum had put a pork pie in our pack-up, so I picked up a couple of sachets of English Mustard, and borrowed a knife. Jen nipped back and added a third bottle of milk while I was doing that.

"I know what a tea-pot you are, big brother!"

"It was the girls, honest! They've corrupted me. I never drank anything like as much tea until I met them!"

"Yeah, I know. You drank beer instead!"

I laughed. It was the new family 'in' joke.

We had talked with Mum and Dad about tolerance for alcohol over Christmas; Dad had told us that he had been chatting to a workmate who said that Chinese people just couldn't take their drink. The man had said that it was all down to prehistoric man finding ways to purify his drinking water; while in the West we had learned to brew wine, cider, ale and small beer to drink, in the East they had discovered tea, and therefore boiled their water to make it potable.

Dad had pooh-pooed his colleague's theory; he had told him that on several occasions during his National Service he and his mates had managed to get hold of bottles of the local rice wine, which he called Saki, and he admitted that they had, in technical terms, 'got rat-arsed'. The locals seemed to be able to swig Saki all day and still walk home afterwards, the British soldiers hadn't been able to stand, let alone walk.

Dad reckoned after that experience that the effect of alcohol was much more about what your body was used to drinking, and your own stupidity or determination not to let someone outdrink you! Thinking back to my experience of 'snakebite' the previous year, I agreed that Dad had a point.

There was hardly anybody about as we went back up the stairs. The corridors were cold and poorly lit, and it was good to get back to Jen's room and shut the door behind us.

Jen took charge and organised me. She was clearly as keen as I was to get started.

She closed the window to leave just a crack for ventilation, and shut the curtains tightly for warmth and privacy. She put the milk on the tiled windowsill between the glass and the curtains to keep it cold.

Then we piled all our belongings on her desk, along with the two chairs, which left just enough room for the mattress to come off the bed onto the floor.

"The bed squeaks quite enough with just me in it, so I'm not taking any chances - not that there is anyone about!"

We were about to rip our clothes off, when I suddenly remembered how much fun I'd had with Vee and Julie undressing one other.

"Jen, darling, can I show you what it's like if we undress each other, slowly?"

I started by kissing her, and very gently scraped my slightly-open lips across hers. She shuddered.

"Oh god, I really felt that in my girlie bits! Oh, please, do that again!"

I was delighted; the delicate kisses that Julie and I had been using to heighten our sense of anticipation also seemed to work very effectively on Jen.

I kissed her again, this time prolonging the contact as I reached behind her, and unhooked her bra through her sweater, one-handed without looking.

"You've been practising!"

"It took quite a bit of work to be able to do it every time - Adrian was a natural, though, he got the hang of it very quickly indeed!"

"I've never had my bra undone before; it's rather erotic having my clothes taken off for me before we make mad passionate love!"

"Julie and I have found it a lot of fun too! It's nice to occasionally take the time to slowly and leisurely appreciate each other's bodies, rather than just tearing your own clothes off and jumping into bed. Mind you, this time of year it's too damned cold in our house!"

She helped me take my sweater off over my head, and then started unbuttoning my shirt.

"Oh god, my fingers are trembling, these buttons are tricky, and they're the wrong way round!"

I'd forgotten that women's blouses often had their buttons attached the other way to men's shirts, but Jen soon regained control of her fingers.

As she removed my unbuttoned shirt, I pivoted on my toes to help her get the sleeves off my arms. Then I turned to her and helped her remove her pullover. As I unbuttoned her blouse, she slipped her arms out of both it and her bra, and tossed them onto the bedframe to join my upper garments.

We stood and hugged bare-chested. Jen's boobs felt great pressed against me, and she moaned a little as her now-erect nipples rubbed on my chest.

I dropped to my knees and undid the button and fly of her jeans; she had already kicked off her shoes, and she held my shoulder to help her balance as she let her jeans fall to the floor and stepped out of them. I picked them up, and placed them on the bedframe.

Then my sister dropped down in front of me to release my jeans; I had to bend to unlace my shoes before removing them.

We faced each other, just in our underpants. Jen was wearing a small pair of pastel blue panties with a tiny white bow; there seemed to be a damp patch appearing on the flimsy material at the front. Gustav was frantically trying to get out of the top of my Y-fronts.

"Was it Mae West who said: 'Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?' Gustav seems very keen to get started!"

"Yes, I think it was Mae West, either her or Dorothy Parker."

"Dorothy Parker was 'Men seldom make passes, at girls who wear glasses'!"

I knelt down in front of my gorgeous sister, and kissed her tummy button as I slid her panties down to her ankles; the scent of her arousal filled my nostrils; she lifted her feet out of her panties and kicked them away, and then she in turn knelt down to remove my underpants. She giggled as Gustav bounced to attention as he was freed from the waistband.

"Hmmm, I think someone else is looking forward to this!"

Once we were both completely naked, we embraced again, and then sank to the mattress together.

We kissed and caressed each other's bodies until we were both more than ready to make love.