My name is Joseph Cains. At the time of writing I was still a member of the University’s Aikido club, and I had an enormous crush on a beautiful mixed-race girl who happened to come along to the same club. This story comes from halfway through the academic year, just before her grading test. She asked me to come to the lakeside after my classes to help her practice her throws and tumbles, and I being a lovestruck fool agreed. It was one of the best foolish decisions that I have ever made.
The thing about Helen Eriksen was that she was utterly beautiful. This was the problem with fighting her; it was also the reason that when you lost to her, you didn’t mind.
She was about six inches shorter than I, with short black hair and dark brown eyes. She had a sweet, angular face and looked damn-near otherworldly when she smiled. Over the last few months she and I had become close – more as friends than as lovers – and I in my ignorance of future events had no real reason, to start with, to think that was ever going to change.
It was nearly dark when we met beside the lake. She was ghostly in her gi, but it stood out strongly enough from the twilight that I would still be able to see her every move. I had come in mine as well.
It wasn’t a warm evening – in fact it was a little blustery, and raindrops would occasionally fall for a minute or two. The kind of autumn evening one expects in England. Leaves rustled and a substation hummed somewhere distant, and that was all.
“Okay,” she said. “I need to get my rolling up to standard, and there are is least one of the main motions that I don’t feel confident with.”
I grinned. She was always beautiful but the distant orange glow of streetlights made her look utterly gorgeous this evening. “Let me guess,” I said. “The mourosouri kokyouhou?” It was a motion that our teacher had told us was exceptionally hard to master – that even the highest-level black belts wouldn’t necessarily have it right. Helen being Helen, she would want to feel that she had mastered it before setting foot in that hall.
She laughed. “I guess nobody ever gets it, right? Doesn’t matter. Going to try anyway.”
I moved into the standard fighting stance, extended my arm toward her. She grabbed it and I executed the motion, and she rolled away to my left.
“Ow,” she said. “Should have brought some mats out.”
We both knew that we’d never have been allowed to bring exercise mats outside. “Would have kept you from getting dirty, I suppose.” I said it with a grin in my voice, and she scowled at me in that half-loving way she had.
“I’ll get you on the floor yet, baka.” It wasn’t a fantastic nickname but it had a lot of affection behind it, and that was what counted.
I switched my foremost leg and held my arm out again. This time as I threw her I felt the swell of her breast against me –and of course, my mind began to wander.
It was her turn to throw me. She held the stance, I grabbed her forearm, and as I did I saw what looked like white muslin down her top. She’d bound her breasts in the old Japanese fashion, and that was… odd, but not too unexpected for her.
Of course, it also meant that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and that was the biggest turn-on I’d had in a long while.
As we went through the motions, I caught the occasional glimpse and I could see that her bindings were working themselves loose, and every time her hips or waist or bust came into contact with me another surge of blood went to my navel. We practiced headlocks, and that squashed my face into her breasts and frankly, at this point I was at full mast and begging for her to call a break so I could pretend to need the bathroom, disappear for a few minutes and bring myself off with her in mind. But of course, it didn’t happen.
We got to the point of trapping and cutting the legs out from under each other. First she practiced the conversion on me, and she didn’t seem to feel my absurd erection pressing against her thigh, and then I had to practice it on her. The motion essentially involved pressing your crotch right up against your opponent, and although I knew it would surprise or even shock her, I was beginning to have serious issues with any idea of self control.
And I know for sure that she felt it this time because as I pressed up against her, she let out a heavy breath with a tiny hint of a moan behind it.
She looked me dead in the eye with a tiny bit of hunger showing through when she suggested the next motion: a set of movements that involves switching back to face away from your opponent and throwing them forward over your shoulder. If you can see where this is going, you’re exactly right.
I threw her first and she pressed up heavily against my back as I threw her, squashing her breasts against me and letting out another moan. And then she came to throw me and she seemed to accidentally slow down just as she pulled me in – and all of a sudden there I was, with a damn-near painful erection grinding up against her firm round backside through our fairly thin practice uniforms. She let out a groan and pressed hard against me; my hands dropped reflexively to her hips and pulled her in harder – and she broke away, turned, grabbed my head in her hands and kissed me violently.
It took me a moment to realise, but I met the kiss head on, snatching breaths between fevered playing of tongues and lips. My hand came up to her waist and my other to her breasts and she pressed herself forward into me, grinding her navel and stomach against the bulge in my training trousers – and then her hands went down to her white belt and undid it, and her white jacket hung loose around her shoulders. The binding still mostly covered her breasts but it had been worked loose by the training – I kissed her hard again, grasped the fabric in both hands and ripped it, unwrapping it from her, my hands now crushing her breasts , my thumbs rolling her nipples.
She broke the kiss and glared at me. “Not fast enough.” Suddenly she had her foot behind mine and I had tumbled back on the floor. I gathered my bearings in time to see her straddling me and in time to feel her grind down against my crotch – my hands moved straight to the tie keeping her trousers on and suddenly they were round her ankles and she had pulled down my trousers and boxers and a pair of ordinary white panties was all that stood between us. I found the seam and ripped them off and she growled , hand already at work on my cock and another on her clit, and then she shifted forward and the head of my shaft was buried in her and she was hot and tight and angry…
“Fuck, Helen.”
“Yes,” she snarled, rocking back and forth and pushing herself down on my cock. “Fuck Helen.”
I disentangled the bindings that had held her breasts as she sank down the last few inches and threw them to the side. “I have wanted to do this,” I said, “for so fucking long.” My hands moved to her hips and I pulled her down, hard, and she yelped as I think I brushed her cervix, and we stayed in that position for just a moment before her hips started rocking, working up to thrusting.
“Yeah well, I kinda guessed,” she said. “If it helps,” she bounced off my thrust particularly hard, “so have I. Thought you’d never bother to fucking claim me.” She leant down and bit my bottom lip, and kissed me hungrily.
“Claim you,” I said when she had finished kissing me. “I like it.”
Her jacket hung open, the binding that had held her breasts now in a dirty pile on the floor, her white belt also forgotten. Her breasts bounced with every one of her violent thrusts and I leant up, grabbed one in my hand and squeezed hard, caught the other with my mouth and sucked and licked and gently bit, moaning loudly every time she sank down onto my shaft and doubly so every time her angle pressed the tip of my cock against her cervix. With every thrust she let out a low grunt, perhaps a little more like a bark, and I wanted to kiss her snarling lips.
I grunted, leant back from her breasts and swore. “Hellfire, Helen. I’m going to cum.”
She growled at me and stood up fast, her trousers around her ankles. Her fingers went to her pussy immediately and she sank three fingers into herself with a groan. Standing over me, fingering herself and looking so haughty, she was utterly gorgeous – a savage sexual creature behind such human poise it was remarkable. My shaft stood to attention for a long while, but the cool blustering air took away the need to cum. “You want to cum first then,” I said.
She nodded.
“Well then,” I said, and I stood and grabbed her shoulder, kicked her knee out from beneath her and caught her before she hit the ground. I leant in and kissed her and she returned it with incredible passion – and bit my lip hard enough to draw blood.
I set her down on her side, disentangled her trousers from her left ankle, lifted up her left leg and sank myself, hard and deep, into her pussy. She moved her fingers first to her mouth, then her clit – and it seemed to do wonders. I was equally taken by the mood now, sinking into her hilt-deep over and over again, growling with every violent thrust.
Her leg started to twitch and she started to shout incoherently, and I didn’t stop fucking her until she’d ridden over her orgasm with Swedish swear-words and had sunk into the afterglow. And then the knot at the base of my shaft struck again –
“I’m going to cum, Helen. For rea-”
She shoved me to the side with her leg, spun and threw herself at me, pushed me down on my back and suddenly I felt a warmth around my cock and I knew exactly what it was.
Gagging, squelching sounds came from her as she forced my cock down her throat over and over again. My hands came up to her hair but I had no inclination to pull her in any harder. This beautiful woman who was essentially my best friend and soulmate was choking herself on my cock in some kind of sexual fury.
That thought rolled through my head and with an almighty “Fuck!” my hips bucked forward and I fired cum down her throat – the first spurt made her cough and she pulled back and I emptied my balls all over her face and breasts, dribbles of cum on her lips and cheeks and down to her right nipple. This was a mental image that I would keep with me for a long time.
She coughed again, then she crawled over to me, fingers still buried in her pussy, licking her lips.
“Joseph,” she said. “I fucking love you.”
I smirked. “I will tie you up,” I said, “and fuck you in every hole.”
She snuggled in close, wiped the cum from her face off on my gi. “Can we fuck Hannah too? I’ve always wanted to see her with a cock inside her. I’ll buy something from the adult shop and we can bring her off over and over again.”
I started playing with her breasts, rubbing the threads of my cum into her nipples and watching them harden again in the cool air. “Get a strap-on,” I said. “We can see which holes she likes best to be fucked in.”
Hannah was a tiny, petite and utterly gorgeous girl. Nobody was entirely sure of her heritage but she looked perhaps half-Portuguese. And the image of her naked on a bed, her small breasts on show, Helen between her legs, pushing a thick strap-on into the girl, stretching her out… I was getting hard again, and quickly.
“We need condoms,” I said. “If we keep talking like this I’m liable to fuck you again.”
A smirk from Helen’s beautiful lips. “What about Carol, then,” she said. “You like the look of her. What about her, bent over a desk, skirt up, begging for cock?”
“Good grief,” I said, and my arousal kept growing. “Which end would you take?”
“I think I’d flip her over,” she said, “and teach her how to deep-throat. If I get a strap-on I want to make her throat bulge with it.”
The image went straight to my shaft, which was almost painful by now. “Sweet Jesus,” I said. Her hand landed on my shaft and started stroking. “I mean, what else could I do? I guess I’d just have to fuck her til she screamed and cum all over her.” I leant over and kissed Helen momentarily.
“What about the tall girl?” She asked. “The one people say you’re probably going out with in Computer Science?” She kept up the motion.
“I don’t know,” I said. “She’s unbelievably hot in a swimsuit and she loves having pictures taken. What do you think of that?” My cock twitched in her hand and she tightened her grip slightly.
“You on a chair, her sitting on your lap with your cock up her ass, legs spread and raised so I can fuck her senseless.” She was stroking with a little more force, her other hand busy between her legs.
“And what if I get her to wear the strap-on? Because I tell you what, I would fucking love to see you with my cock down your throat and her taking you from behind with an enormous strap-on.”
“Fuck me, you filthy man.” She straddled me again and wasted no time in sinking down onto my shaft. I groaned and bucked up into her, and she started to grind slowly. “Fuck me… ah… like you want to fuck all of us ‘white-hot girls’. God… I couldn’t care about protection. Ahhh…” She leant down and placed kisses on my lips, my cheeks, my neck. “I want you to cum inside me. And then you and I are going to fuck all those girls, and we’re going to fuck each other, and maybe we’ll ask that tall girl to join us so we can fuck any girl we like in every hole and you can cum inside them and cum all over them and I will lick it the fuck off but every night, you come back to me and you put on that strap-on and you fuck me in both holes at once. Hanh! Now, you cum inside me. You do it right NOW.”
I grabbed her hips and lifted her up a little way and then punched my cock into her as hard as I could. She yelped and I did it again, and again, until I felt the knot building up at the base of my shaft again and then I snarled at her and reached up, grabbed her shoulders and clamped her down, the tip of my cock pressing right up inside her, and she yelled and shuddered as I filled her with cum, burst after burst spraying deep into her. I was cumming inside my very best friend and the sheer intimacy of it kept me going for much longer than usual. Her chest heaved and her breasts stood proudly out and her damn-near naked form was utterly beautiful .
And she came down, and let out her breath in a long sigh. I tensed my abdominal muscles, flexing my cock inside her, and she moaned. But I had started going down already so I wasn’t going to be able to keep that up, and soon enough I slipped out of her and her pussy started to dribble with cum. She scooped some of it up and licked her fingers clean, and looked down at me with no anger left, just a surprisingly serene happiness on her face.
I leaned up and kissed her, and then I stayed very close and I murmured into her ear: “Helen, I fucking love you.” She nodded and smiled and her eyes were closed. “You’re imagining Hannah licking you clean, aren’t you?” She opened her eyes, this time grinned, and kissed me hard.
We cleaned ourselves up as best we could and made it back to her flat without losing any modesty.
We didn’t attend lectures for easily two weeks.