When I got back to my Boarding school in the late afternoon the rest of my dorm couldn’t wait to get my report on losing my virginity. Questions, questions, questions . . . What did it feel like? (Fantastic), Did it hurt? (Not one bit. But my hymen must have already been broken), Did he cum inside you? (No, he was very gentle and careful). The session must have gone on for an hour or more and I was more than happy to answer their questions because I was still on a real high. Yet, something was niggling away me. I couldn’t put my finger on it immediately. I told myself it was probably nothing and with the end of term (and the end of my time at St Winifred’s) happening in two days time I would just need to concentrate on making sure I got all my things together before my mum turned up to take me home. But, I was definitely unsettled about something!
The final day of term was mighty hectic. A lot of tears and taking of phone numbers, addresses, future education plans, ‘I’m sure going to miss you ladies. It’s been a real gas. We’ve had some fabulous times together and I just hope we’ll bump into each other sometime in the future,’ I said. And then it hit me! That’s what it was – Paul. I had really been missing him since our liaison and, stupidly I didn’t even know what his surname was! Later that day I would be even further away from him when I got home. I’d treated him pretty badly in order to lose my virginity. Why did I feel like this toward him when, frankly, I barely knew him. I wondered if maybe, just maybe, I had begun to fall in love with him. Damn! Too late now I guess but it made me very sad.
The long summer holidays where spent with my parents. My brother was also there but he’d brought home his girlfriend, Annie, so he didn’t need my ‘hands on’ help any more. I was a bit depressed for weeks and as my forthcoming departure to London and my drama course loomed I cheered up a bit. But, Paul, kept popping into my mind. I intended to throw myself into my courses and it worked. I got lots and lots of very positive feedback.
Towards the end of the first year a near-by Film Studio was recruiting lots of pretty girl actors to feature in a comedy film centred around a Girl’s School and I, luckily, got a part in it. It wasn’t a very big part but I did have one line to utter. All of us girls were dressed in school uniform consisting of a gymslip, white shirt and tie, black stockings and suspenders and navy blue school knickers. I’d only just put my St. Winifred’s uniform away and here I was back in school uniform again! The experience of being in a film, seeing how it was all put together was fascinating. And we all, by and large, had great fun together. I say ‘by and large’ because the one drawback was how some members of the crew, the extras and young actors, were rather obsessed with trying to look up our gymslips to see our knickers, fondling our backsides, trying to tweak our breasts and lots of other irritating habits too. As a group we used to try and exact our revenge by openly displaying our knickers whenever we got a chance. ‘Accidentally’ (on purpose) catching the back of your gymslip in your knickers when you’d been to the toilet used to make them gawp until someone informed us of our dress malfunction. When we where languishing around between scenes we used to put our feet up letting our gymslips slip to our waists so we were giving all and sundry another good view of our knicks. They didn’t particularly like that approach and we’d regularly overhear ‘prickteaser’ muttered under their breath. I think they used to get regularly told to keep away from us! This, my first film, took place during the summer when we would normally be on our holidays — but we got paid for it so we weren’t complaining. My drama course continued to go well and again I was often given praise for my work.
At the end of the second year a lot of us were asked back for a second film in the same genre. Again, very enjoyable. And again back into ‘school uniform!’ for six weeks or so. Two lines to say this time too. At the end of this particular production a number of us decided to give a few of the men, who’d treated us courteously throughout the film making, a bit of a treat with a very sexy and exciting experience (I think Pru, one of the other girls, wrote about it on this website a little while ago). A lot of the time Paul still kept popping into my mind. ‘I wonder where he is now? What he’s up to? Has he got a girlfriend? etc, etc.’ I kept thinking. Again I tried to put such thoughts to one side. But we’d shared such an intimate experience together it didn’t seem right that I couldn’t see him or get in touch.
The final year of my course was hard going. Lots of pieces to be performed. Shakespeare, in particular, Poems, to be recited. Examinations on stage craft, the list was endless but, I’m pleased to say, I popped out of the other end with an agent and an excellent result.
My first role after the Academy was another film centred around a young, rather wild, young lady (me!) who was mentored by an old, dying soldier who showed her how to deal with life without causing ripples. Again, though I was in full school uniform right down to school knickers. After that, a stage play in London. A Murder Mystery written by a very well-known Thriller writer in which I played, guess what, a schoolgirl in full uniform. So, since I’d left ‘proper’ school I had appeared in school uniform in every bit of acting work I’d done so far. I sent an postcard to my Agent saying, ‘Dear Bennie. When are you going to get me out of these school knickers. RB.’ I wonder what the postman thought when he read that! Anyway, it did have a bit of an affect and gradually some more prominent roles started to come through. My reputation was growing and people often stopped me and asked for my autograph. Fame at last!
Some ten years after I’d left school things were buzzing along nicely and I’d been asked, by my agent, if I’d be interested in taking on the role of Lady Macbeth in ‘the Scottish play’ at the RSC in Stratford. A meeting was arranged for me to discuss the role with the director of the play. This was to be on his ‘home turf’ in Stratford upon Avon. I was very excited by the proposition of a major part in a play with a prodigious theatre company. A room was booked for me at a large, very old hotel in the middle of the town. I arrived, on my own, in the late afternoon and waiting to book in I heard someone call out ‘Romy?’ I turned to see who had called and there was Paul!. ‘Paul!!’ I cried out, ‘Don’t you move! I’ll only be a moment.’ It didn’t take long to sort out my reservation which I completed whilst making sure Paul never moved from his spot! I turned towards him, threw my arms around him and gave him the most almighty hug and a huge kiss on his lips and gabbled, ‘Have I missed you? It’s just so brilliant to see you again. So what are you doing here?’ To which he replied, ‘Are you on your way anywhere? Am I interrupting anything?’ ‘No,’ I said, ‘Shall we go into the bar for a drink and chat? We’ve so much to catch up on.’ I turned to reception and said, ‘Could somebody take my case up to my room please.’
We went into the bar got a couple of drinks and let everything rip. ‘What are you doing here? (A conference for him; a meeting about a play for me of course), What are you doing these days? (He was working for a Petro-Chemical Company having achieved a First in Chemistry at Durham. Me you know about), and on and on it went. So much to talk about and, hopefully, plenty of time to do it in. Paul asked, ‘Have you eaten anything yet Romy?’ because it was now early evening. ‘No,’ I said. ‘Then let me buy you dinner. There’s a lovely little restaurant on Sheep Street which I reckon is very good. Fancy it?’ ‘Yes please,’ I replied. We both decided we needed a few minutes to freshen up and that we’d meet back in the lobby in 15 minutes. As I went upstairs to my room I just couldn’t believe that ‘of the the places . . .’ I’d met up with him after all the years. What were the odds? I was so thrilled I could hardly contain myself.
Soon we were strolling through the streets of Stratford, arm in arm, to the restaurant. As Paul predicted the meal was outstanding and the company even better. It transpired, because I noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, that he wasn’t attached. Apparently, he’d been in a longish term relationship but his ‘girlfriend’ had taken up a post at Glasgow University so everything between them was just about dead he said. I told him a very similar story. I’d nearly got engaged about six months ago but realised that, Hugh, wasn’t what I was looking for nor him, me. We parted amicably enough.
We set off back to the hotel and Paul invited me back to his room for a nightcap. ‘I’d like that, thank you.’ I replied, ‘But I think this calls for more of a celebration so I’ll order a bottle of champagne for us. What’s your room number, Paul?’ Paul told the receptionist and we climbed up to his room. I so was wonderfully relaxed now. As was Paul. There was a knock on the door and Room Service stepped into the room, removed the cork from the bottle of champagne, filled a glass each, put the bottle in the wine cooler and departed. ‘I still can’t believe this, Paul. I treated you so badly the last lime we met I really must apologise. I was selfish. I was so centred on losing my virginity that I just regarded you as a mere ‘fuck-mate’. I was horrible. And it was only after that that I realised that I had fallen in love with you and that I didn’t even know your surname; the road and house number you lived at; your telephone number. Anything!’ ‘Did you not realise that just as I’d taken your virginity so you’d taken mine. But I felt exactly the same as you. It was so frustrating. I didn’t realise for ages that you were the stunning young lady I saw on the cinema screen. And I have to say, Romy, you look even more stunning in real life. You’re beautiful. And yes, I came to exactly the same conclusion as you did, That I was in love with you.’ I went over to Paul who was sitting on the small settee in the suite he occupied, wrapped my arms around him and kissed and kissed him. ‘I missed you so much, Paul. I’m not letting you go this time though. So tough!!’ We both had a drink of our champagne and drank a little toast to each other that now we had become re-acquainted we would never lose touch with each other again.
‘Incidentally, Paul, do you remember you asked me for a keepsake when we parted all those years ago.’ ‘Your knickers. Yes?’ he replied, ‘Thank goodness I did because it was the only tangible thing I had to really remember you by. I didn’t have a clue where you were but I could snuggle up to your knickers and feel I had a connection, somehow, to you.’ ‘So have you still got them?’ I asked. ‘Certainly have,’ he replied, ‘I take them with me with them everywhere.’ ‘Really, that’s so sweet,’ I commented, ‘So. Hang on. Do you have them with you here?’ ‘Yes,’ he responded, ‘Do you want to see them?’ ‘Yes please,’ I asked. Paul got up from alongside me and went into his bedroom. And, sure enough, returned with my old school knickers. They still looked in pristine condition. Do you not wank into them all the time?’ ‘Not all the time, no. It just makes me think of you and I’d often just put them under my pillow so I could lay my hands on them and feel I was touching you,’ he told me. I was almost in tears, I was just so touched. ‘Don’t think they’ll fit me now,’ I said. ‘What do you mean? You’re still as beautifully shapely now as you were then. Try them,’ said Paul. I needed to pop to the toilet so once in the bathroom I stripped off and pulled on the bottle green school knickers. Paul was right they still fitted perfectly. I strolled back into the living area and, Paul, seeing me in my school knickers and nothing else was very impressed (as I could see from the growing bulge in his trousers!. ‘I’m feeling a bit underdressed here I think you’d better strip off too don’t you think?’ I said. Paul didn’t need a second invitation and was naked in a few moments.’That lovely cock. Bigger than I remember too,’ I remarked, ‘Can you remember how you wanked me, out in that copse of trees, the first time we ever got together?, ‘Like this wasn’t it?’ he said as he snuggled into my back and bum slightly grinding his lovely erect cock into ‘my’ knickers. He moistened his fingers in his glass of champagne and, pulling the knickers out slightly at my waist slid his fingers down to my clit and pussy. His touch was so gentle, so caring and so slow that I swooned under the spell of my very excited vagina and came, suddenly, in quite a rush. ‘Oh!!’ I exclaimed. ‘Quick, Paul. Take me to bed. I want that thick engorged cock in me. Not to mention all your spunk in there too. Thank God for the Pill, I say!’
Paul and I spent the night together in absolutely unbelievable bliss. We both knew now that we were madly in love with each other and probably always had been. This night would be just the beginning of our time together and we knew that we must endeavour to spend as much time in each other’s company as was humanly possible having ‘lost’ ten years through our own stupidity.
The following morning I went of the the RSC Theatre for my meeting and Paul attended the conference which was taking place in the hotel we were staying in. We arranged to meet up in the evening and, once more spend the night together. And, seeing it was now Friday and neither of us had any plans for the weekend decided to stay in the hotel for an extra couple of extra days.
We talked and talked the whole weekend and, regrettably, our initial time together came to a end far to soon. We had discovered, however, that we were both now London-based and though my work took me hither and thither we would try an meet up as often as we could. A few weeks later I invited Paul to move in with me at my flat in the Hampstead area and see how it worked out (beautifully as it happens!). And our sex life together just got better and better. I’m quite inventive (must be all that improvisation work we do as actors) and almost everything I suggested to Paul he was always game to give it a try. For instance, totally by chance, one day, I was going through an overflow wardrobe in my (our) spare room when I came across my St Winifred’s school uniform (all bottle green) and the school uniform I wore in both of my early films (navy blue). I asked Paul if me dressed as a schoolgirl would interest him. He thought it might so I said, ‘You just pop into the lounge and I’ll model them for you.’ Well, talk about lighting the blue touch paper! When I appeared in my ‘film’ uniform Paul was just so excited we had, without doubt, the greatest day (and night) of sex we’d ever spent together. It was messy, at times but, my God, our orgasms were constantly explosive! And my poor, navy blue knickers took a hell of a staining both inside and out! We vowed to use both uniforms sparingly for fear they’d lose their appeal. (They never have so far though). Added to which I sometimes liked to wear a pair of school knickers when we went out together, I’d tease Paul with the fact that I was wearing some and sometimes give him the odd flash. By the time we got back home we were beside ourselves with lust. It was great. Another thing I really liked to do, by contrast, was not wear any knickers at all. Again I’d tease Paul, not only was he very adept at getting his fingers onto my clit and pussy and give me a lovely cum but, more often than not, we’d have to fuck whilst we were out and couldn’t wait to get home first – in a train carriage, on a bus, in a small wood, in a restaurant toilet. Our ideas were endless and, I think, the excitement of maybe getting caught gave fantastic impetus to our orgasms.
Talking of which, probably, one of our favourite such occasions was in the late summer about ten years ago. We often used to go a large, local park that had a boating lake. Occasionally we took a rowing boat out and, on the right sort of day, it was idyllic. So, it was after a very warm day we decided a drift around on the water would be ideal. We set off from the shore with Paul rowing whilst I sat opposite him. The warm weather had made me quite horny and whether Paul knew it or not I was knickerless. He soon did know as I slid my skirt up towards my waist and, licking my fingers, started to toy with my pussy and clitoris. Despite there being paths around the lake there were not too many people about and, anyway, even if there had been it would be it didn’t look that we were up to anything naughty! I could see that, plainly, Paul was enjoying the spectacle of my gentle wanking too. ‘Get, your cock out, darling,’ I pleaded. Carefully, looking around to see if there were any people about, he did as I asked. He was well excited! Taking the baseball cap off his head he placed it over his engorged cock for the time being. I was getting myself well juiced-up and Paul asked if I had a plan. ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I’ve always wanted to learn how to row (I lied!) so do you think you would let me sit on your lap so that we can row the oars together?’ He twigged, ’Yes, that should be fine. I’ll do my best to teach you of course. Just let me know when you’re ready to start.’ I checked to see if there were any people nearby and, just at that moment, we seemed to be ok. I moved over towards Paul. It was a bit tricky with the boat swaying as I moved but, being the determined lady that I am, I managed impale myself on Pauls cock eventually (and pleasurably). We both sighed! Wow! I put my hands on top of Paul’s hands and we started to row slowly. The affect of Paul’s cock in my pussy as we leant backwards and then forwards with each stroke of the oars in the water was exquisite. Not to mention erotic. Furthermore, the fact that people were passing only a few yards from us as they walked along the path with, hopefully, no idea of what was really happening in our boat increased the excitement many fold. I came. I couldn’t help it! Unfortunately, I wanted to cry out so intense was the orgasm but I couldn’t with people so close. Paul, obviously felt me cum and it made him cum too. I could feel all his beautiful spasms of spunk shooting up my vagina. It was heavenly. We slowly, and carefully, returned to our original positions and Paul slipped his, now, deflated cock back into his trousers. He rowed us back to the landing stage where we disembarked. We were both a little wobbly on our feet as we walked away (I bet that it wasn’t a ‘sea legs’ problem either). ‘That was lovely, darling. Very different – and needed!’ I told him.
Unfortunately, one of the drawbacks of being quite famous is that you become, sort of, ‘publicly-owned’ and we’d only walked a little way when someone said, ‘Hi, K…… (they used my christian stage name!). Loved your latest film. You were fabulous in it.’ ‘Thank you,’ I said, ‘That’s very kind of you.’ ‘Do you often get down here?’ they asked. ‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘A few times a year if we can. And it was such a lovely day today my husband, Paul, and I thought it would be nice to have a bit of a time on the water. Paul’s been trying to teach me to row.’ ‘Yes,’ they said, ‘we noticed.’ What they hadn’t noticed and really hoped they wouldn’t was that Paul’s spunk had started to dribble down my legs! ‘Well,’ I said, ‘We must be going I m afraid. Lovely to meet you.’ ‘And you too,’ they replied, ‘And good luck with the rowing practice you look as you need it.’ Once we were out of earshot I told Paul about my ‘leakage’ as we walked, rather quickly, back to the car sniggering like two naughty school kids.