Students’ Holiday Ch. 01


For those who have read any of my previous three stories, the events described here happened a few months after the “First Holiday” Series. For those who have not, James and Jean are two young students who lost their virginity together. In this story they travel to a seaside resort for a break, and manage to push out the boundaries of their sex life.

Our relationship was still intense. Although we did not live together, we spent all our weekends together and met up midweek when we could. Probably a little over a year or so had passed since we got together, and we were still irrepressibly horny. We couldn’t get enough of each other and spent, looking back on it, an awful lot of time in bed, and had tried most things that a couple can do together. We had experimented with different positions, tried some light anal play, watched one another pee and made love outdoors. Stories about these events in isolation would be categorised as fetish (watersports), anal (just a bit of fingering), or exhibitionist & voyeur (outdoors), but we didn’t think of ourselves as being in particular in any of these categories, it was all just part of the continuum. When we made love outdoors it was because that was where we were and we were feeling horny, not because we were exhibitionists. We weren’t hoping to be seen, we were hoping to get away with it.

So when we took a short break on the coast, it was not with a view to indulging any particular fetish. The bike was broken down, a not uncommon occurrence, so we used the train. At the time some of the older rolling stock had individual compartments with no communication them and it was in one of these that we found ourselves. We were travelling away from the city, against the commuter flow, and after a couple of stops the compartment was empty except for us. We had about an hour and a half to go and Jean was reading a magazine which she had thought to bring with her. I had nothing to read, and since Jean seemed absorbed with her reading and not in the mood for conversation I passed the time gazing out of the window. I soon got bored and started to look around the compartment for amusement.

There was a good crop of rubbish, as one would expect on a British train in the late nineteen seventies. Still, I was only on the train because my British motorcycle had broken down! It was the way things were. Cigarette buts and chewing gum was the mainstay on the floor, but I also spotted a torn foil packet which bore the legend “Durex”. I hoped that neither of us was sitting on the item itself. Leafing through a discarded newspaper killed a few minutes and we had a laugh at the problem page.

Jean was wearing a low cut blouse, heels and a short skirt. I’d seen the lacy underwear and stockings go on as we dressed earlier. She was making the most of not being on the bike and looked very sexy indeed. I amused myself trying to look up her skirt to see her stocking tops or panties, sliding down in my seat a little but trying not to be too obvious. I decided that if a short guy sat opposite her he could probably get a look at her stocking tops without craning his neck too much. Jean uncrossed her long legs and crossed them the other way and I got a quick glimpse. My cock stirred at the sight and a fantasy took shape of a short guy sitting where I was, furtively masturbating under his newspaper as he looked up my girlfriend’s skirt. I hardened some more and wondered if she would go for it, maybe on the return trip. We could scout out a guy of the right build to try it on with. No, forget it; no way would she go for it. Letting the thought go I looked around again and struck gold.

“Hey, someone’s left their wank mag stuffed between the şişli escort seats!”

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“A girlie mag.”

I was already leafing through it and Jean came over for a look. If I’d bought it for myself she’d have called me a perv. The mag was verging on hardcore for the time, at least in the UK. Nude men and women were featured simulating sex, but there was no visible genital contact. The models were all good looking of course, slim, tanned and toned with beautiful tits and impressive cocks. The cocks, though large, were all flaccid to Jeans chagrin, but one of the girls was shaved, which I thought would be fun to try for a new sensation. I filed the thought away to bring up later at a good moment. I always wet shaved and had cream and a razor in my bag. Jean had soon seen all she wanted and, returning to her seat opposite me, picked up her magazine again. A few minutes passed, and there was a rustle as she turned a page.

“Anyway, why’s it called a wank mag?” She asked without looking up.

“Why do you think? Guys, some guys, masturbate while they read them. But you know that, so why ask? I guess whoever left it got caught short and had to stuff it away quick when someone got in. Wankus interuptus, nothings worse than that! Did he cum or not? We’ll never know. Or maybe it belonged to the couple who left the condom wrapper; they might have read it together and got carried away, fucking their brains out right where you’re sitting now. Who knows what happened in here.”

“Are you getting horny reading it?”


She leaned forwards and made a grab between my legs.

“Liar. Or is that a length of lead pipe in your pants? Have a wank with your mag if you like. I don’t mind”

“No thanks. I’m only pretending to read it; actually I’ve got the horn because I’m looking up your skirt. You need to understand that the wank mag is essentially a tool for those who no access to real pussy. It is of no interest to me as thanks to the beautiful and sexy love of my life I enjoy such access at all times and have no need of magazine assisted masturbation. Except occasionally midweek.”

Jean scowled and lifted her feet off the floor. She put her heels on the edge of her seat and spread her knees wide. Her skirt rucked up exposing her stocking tops and panties. Both were black, the panties being small and lacy. Weekend underwear. There was a hint of crack under the flimsy material of her panties and a few curly hairs escaped here and there.

“Well, have a wank over this then.”

She licked her scarlet glossed lips, slowly running her pointed tongue around them, and rubbed her hands up and down her inner thighs.

I was tempted. She had a thing about seeing me masturbate. Of course, we both sometimes played with ourselves when we were together as part of our lovemaking, but she wanted to see me cum all by myself. I had no real objection, in fact I quite liked the idea except it seemed a waste to do it myself when my love was there with her tight, moist pussy and those gentle soft hands. Not to mention the warm, wet welcome her mouth always afforded.

“I’d rather you do it for me. What’s the difference? You’ve seen me touch myself and you’ve seen me cum loads of times.”

“Well, it’s just one of those things like I can’t understand why you find stockings a turn on, but I wear them anyway for you even though tights are more practical and comfortable for me. I love watching you rub your cock and I want to see you make yourself spunk.”

“Ok, I’ll do it. But there’s a price, we’ll make a game of it. You suck me while I read my mag until the next station, then I’ll do it for you escort bayan merter after that, as long as we’re still alone.”

“Alright. On condition I can carry it forward to the trip home if we’re not alone again on this one. And you’re not to cum when I’m sucking you; I want to see you shoot a good load when you do it, none of your second time dribbles.”

“Done!” I said.

I unzipped and took my penis out. Jean made to get on the seat beside me, but I motioned her to the floor. The very grubbiness of the whole situation was turning me on, and to this day this is my favourite position for getting a blowjob. Jean knelt between my legs and took me into her mouth, pushing my foreskin back with her lips. As she licked and sucked at the swollen glans I went back to my reading. I was no stranger to enjoying a wank over a magazine, but having a girl suck me off me while I read was an outstanding improvement, the best of both worlds.

I soon got bored with the mag, and put it down to watch Jean at work. Her head moved back and forth as she sucked at my dick, and when her jaws tired she would take it out and lick the head like an ice cream with her long pointed tongue. As she did I enjoyed the sight of her hand stroking the shaft, finger nails bright red with varnish. She let go and stuck her tongue into my trousers to lick my scrotum at the base of my cock and then went back to sucking my helmet. As the train slowed for the next station and we tidied ourselves, Jean tutting over the holes in the knees of her stockings, I couldn’t deny that she had kept her part of the deal.

Nobody got in, and as the train gathered speed I felt, for a moment, unaccountably a little shy of what I was going to do, not of touching myself but of doing so to the pint of orgasm. Jean was fired up though.

“Ok, time to haul that big cock of yours out and start wanking!”

Jean grinned and, pulling her skirt up, put her feet up on my seat, her legs spread one either side of me. I undid my zip again, took my cock out and started to masturbate, looking at her crotch and stocking tops. I stroked my erection slowly, knowing that she would want it to last for a while. Her hand moved to the front of her panties.

“I want you to stand up and do it.”

I stood up, bracing myself against the side of the carriage with my left hand. My fist was moving on my cock all the time, and I stepped forwards so that I was between her knees. Jeans hand was inside her panties now and I watched it moving under the material as I masturbated. I was enjoying myself, all the initial feelings of shyness gone.

“Why don’t we take them off?” I suggested.

She wriggled her panties down leaving them hanging around one knee and spread her legs more. I dropped my trousers and boxers around my ankles, and my hand moved a little faster as I saw her pussy open up.

“You look such a slut, with the knees of your stockings torn and your knickers at half mast.”

“How do you think you look, on a train with your pants around your ankles and your prick in your hand?”

She masturbated with her forefinger moving up and down her crack, rubbing beside her clit. As I watched I noticed how the pale flesh of her thighs bulged slightly at her stocking tops

“Pull your foreskin back; I want to see your knob.”

I did as I was told; wanking at the shaft and leaving my cock head exposed, and replied,

“I want to see you finger yourself.”

A scarlet nail and most of her middle finger disappeared into her vagina. She sighed and moved her finger in and out, a dreamy look on her face.

“Are you sure you don’t want to make love? We’ve got time.” istanbul escort bayan I asked.

“No, you know what I want.”

I was almost as much into it as she was by now.

“Ok, just say when!”

She withdrew her finger and went back to rubbing around her clit.

“When you’re going to cum, wank really slowly, I want to see everything. And don’t get it all over my clothes, just on my legs or pussy if you want.”

“Pull your skirt up out of the way then.”

She pulled her skirt up and spread her legs wider

I let my foreskin come forward again. I always masturbate with my foreskin over my knob, just pulling it back hard from time to time.

“I love looking at your pussy, it’s beautiful. Just seeing it makes me hard.”

“Watching you wank over me is so horny, it’s just like the guys wanking over their mags. I’d love to watch that, some guy masturbating until he shoots his load only he doesn’t know I’m watching.”

Jeans finger moved faster on her clit and I speeded up in response. We were both breathing hard, Jean rosy cheeked and letting out little sighs from time to time.

“Cum when you want, I’m ready for you now.” She said breathily.

I speeded up a little, and then slowed as the sensations started to build up.

“Here it comes.” I warned her.

“I can see some cum already!”

The drop of pre cum turned to a drip and fell to the floor, followed by another.

“You’re dripping sperm!”

I focused on Jeans finger rubbing her clit, and slowed my stroking right down. I was going to cum anyway, even if I let go of it

Waves of pleasure coursed through my groin.

There was a spray of thin fluid, most of it landing on the back of her hand, closely followed by the first heavy rope of semen which flopped across her stockinged thigh. I kept pumping slowly with my fist, spurting more cum onto her hand, thighs and pussy. Jeans finger kept moving all the while, but I’m not sure if she came, maybe one of her small ones. When I was finished I pulled my foreskin back and squeezed the last drops onto the floor between her legs.

Jean looked a picture with her spunky, torn stockings and cum all over her hand and pubic hair.

“That was fun, wasn’t it? Did you enjoy wanking over me?” She asked

“Yes, just so long as you don’t want me to do it myself every time!”

I sat down, feeling a bit week at the knees.

“Well, thanks for showing me how you do it; you know I wanted to see.”

She took her feet off the seat and came across to me.

“Love you.” She said, and kissed me before taking my knob in her mouth, sucking very gently knowing it would still be very sensitive.

“You’re something else. I love you too.” I replied.

Jean released me and started to clean up. She took her stockings off, rolled them into a sticky ball and stuffed them in between the seats. Her panties were used to wipe her hands and clean the worst from her thighs and pubes. The magazine was tucked back where I found it. I didn’t need it.

When we arrived at our destination Jean got out first and walked briskly a little ahead of me down the platform. Her hips swayed, and the skirt moved with them. Her heels clack clacked on the cement. She exuded sexuality and confidence. Dear god, the skirt only came half way to her knees, and under it was naked pussy and ass! One puff of wind and her cunt would be on display. My cock thickened. I was going to fuck her as soon as we got into the room. Roughly, no foreplay, just skir up around her waist, jam it in and fuck her. I knew she would be ready for it. She turned her head as I caught up, flicking her hair around, and flashed me her prettiest smile. Butter wouldn’t melt!

“Hope you’ve got some strength left for the real thing!” She said.

“Don’t worry about me!”

I remembered the girl in the mag with the shaved pussy, and the razor in my bag. My cock thickened some more.

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