The Choice

by Monica Belle

  My chance came in the third week, after rowing. As we walked back through the meadows we were discussing our chances in Eights Week. The men’s and women’s races consisted of each college’s boats lining up in a row, one behind the other, depending on their previous year’s position. The aim was to bump the boat in front and avoid being bumped by the boat behind and over the week’s races move to the front position. The winner would be named Head of the River. Mary’s were Head of the River and expected to row over and keep their title, while in the women’s table their boat was third and so had an off-chance of gaining them the Double Headship, which had only ever been done once before. Emmanuel were in front of them and Boniface behind, so we both had a lot of interest in the outcome, although he didn’t seem to think much of my chances.

  ‘You’re good, and I think you’ll row over, but Mary’s are better and they’ve got everything to work for.’

  ‘So have we. Three bumps and we’re Head of the River.’

  ‘You’re not going to catch Emmanuel!’

  ‘If we can catch Mary’s we can catch Emmanuel, and St Helen’s too.’

  ‘The three best women’s boats in the university, over four days? Be realistic, Poppy.’

  ‘I am.’

  I wasn’t, I was just repeating the coach’s propaganda, but if you don’t at least pretend to believe in yourself, then who else is going to? In reality the best we could hope for was to catch a dispirited Emmanuel on the second or third day, after Mary’s had bumped them, and just conceivably St Helen’s in the same way, leaving us second or third with a realistic chance at the Headship if we could get our act together the following year. As Stephen responded with a derisive laugh an idea hit me, the perfect way to end up across his knee without admitting I was into spanking. I acted on it immediately.

  ‘At least we’ve got a chance, unlike your crew, who’re likely to end up in the second division, and I’ll tell you something too. If we don’t go Head of the River you can spank me, bare bottom, in front of both our crews …’

  As he laughed I realised I’d gone too far.

  ‘Not in front of everybody. I was joking. But you can do me, is that a deal?’

  I stopped and stuck my hand out. He hesitated.

  ‘Spank you? Really?’

  ‘I mean it. Come on, shake.’

  He shook my hand, not very firmly, as if he wasn’t quite sure about it, but that didn’t stop me feeling as if I’d just dissolved into jelly. Even to use those highly charged words to him had set me trembling, and now he was going to do me, while the two-week wait before it happened was going to bring my state of apprehension to a blissful, agonising peak. Not that I’d go that long without it, because if Violet was in her room when I got back to college I was going to be begging to go over her knee. As it was I had to have something, even if not my favourite.

  ‘Take me into the bushes, Stephen.’

  We walked up along the bank of the Cherwell instead of crossing it, so we weren’t really safe.

  He glanced around before replying. ‘There are rather a lot of people about, Poppy. We might get caught.’

  He was right, it wouldn’t have been all that hard to find somewhere quiet. I reminded myself of my promise not to take that sort of risk and we walked on, now hand in hand. We continued to talk rowing, although my mind was on other things, until we reached the end of Rose Lane. Giles’ window was open, and Stephen hesitated, obviously wanting to cross the street to talk to him, but I tightened my grip on his hand.

  ‘You can see him later. I want you now.’

  ‘Well, if it’s like that.’

  ‘It is.’

  As we walked on I felt I’d won a small but important victory, because for all that I was effectively offering sex on a plate he had chosen to stay with me. I promised myself he wouldn’t regret the decision, hurrying him to Boniface and up to my room. The oak was open, which meant that Violet was in, but I made a point of raising my voice to address Stephen, making sure she knew I wasn’t alone.

  He hadn’t changed, and the scent of hot fresh sweat was clear in my senses as I pushed the door closed. I wanted to treat him and, although my head was full of images of him pulling my shorts down for spanking in front of the entire Emmanuel rowing crew, I took a very different tack as I put my arms around his neck.

  ‘How would you like to fuck me while you’re sucking on a nice big cock?’

  We both knew the answer, and he responded with a groan. I hauled his top up, kissing the hard muscles of his torso and rubbing my face against his sweat-slick skin. For all his gay fantasies he was magnificently male, and my body was responding to him for all the conflict in my mind. I lifted my top, freeing my breasts into his hands and he began to knead gently and stroke my nipples while I continued to stroke and tease, still talking.

  ‘That would be fun, wouldn’t it? You could go on top, so I’d be trapped underneath you, and I could watch, close up. I’d watch, Stephen, as he slid his cock in and out of your mouth, with his balls right in my face. I’d kiss them too, Stephen, and suck him. Would you like that, darling? Would you like to watch me suck another man’s cock?’

  I’d changed tack, not on purpose, but just letting my fantasy build of its own accord.

  His answer was more a gasp than words. ‘Bad girl!’

  ‘So you would? That’s nice …’

  It was, a great deal nicer than imagining him with another man. I pulled the front of his shorts open and burrowed in to find his cock, tugging on it as I carried on.

  ‘I would, for you. I’d go down on my knees to both of you, letting you take turns in my mouth, all the way.’

  ‘Rubbing us together.’

  ‘If you like, and putting both of you in my mouth at once, if you’d fit. I don’t think you would.’

  I was sure of it, his erection was thick enough to make my jaw ache without trying to accommodate another man at the same time, but fantasy is fantasy. Another man like him and I’d at least do my best, while on a more practical level there was no doubt about the effect my dirty talk was having on him. I guided him down onto the bed, kneeling at his feet in the position I liked best, where I took him between my breasts, squeezing them around his hard, hot shaft as I continued.

  ‘Both together in my mouth, until you came, or you could do me top and tail, with you inside me while you watched me suck him off. How would that be?’

  ‘Better still, side by side with two men, or two ladyboys.’

  I bit back a touch of irritation and reminded myself that I was supposed to be giving him a treat.

  ‘You think about that then.’

  I took him between my lips, enjoying his cock despite knowing that in his head he was the one with a mouthful. He was still worth worshipping, and I was in the place I felt I should be, on my knees to him with my breasts naked, his erection rearing high over the rim of his shorts, his balls naked to my tongue. I pushed my shorts down behind, baring my bottom as if I’d just been spanked over his knee and was saying thank you.

  In a couple of weeks I was very likely to be in that position, paying my forfeit for my supposed overconfidence with a smacked bottom. He was sure to do it hard, because he could hardly fail to with his long muscular arms and powerful chest, hardened by endless rowing. I’d be helpless too, with him holding me around my waist or with my arm twisted behind my back as he spanked me, squealing and wriggling across his knee, my bottom bouncing and bare to the smacks, his cock growing hard against my side.

  I couldn’t hold back any more, not even to wait for him to lose control and fuck me. My hand went down the front of my shorts and I was rubbing frantically as I sucked, my spare hand stroking my out-thrust bottom and wishing my cheeks were red and hot and sore. He came, and that pushed me over the brink, the two of us riding our orgasms together, united in body if not in mind, but it didn’t matter. In a couple of weeks I was going over his knee.

  He gave a pleased sigh as I rocked back on my heels. It had been good, and do
ne in anticipation of better to come, but I wasn’t at all prepared for the first words he spoke once he’d recovered himself.

  ‘I could make it real, Poppy … not with the ladyboys, but what you were talking about before.’

  I could imagine exactly who he was thinking about as the third party, and it was not going to happen. Physically, Giles couldn’t be faulted, and if his personality was a different matter I might have managed to get over that. It was his attitude to Stephen that made submitting to him out of the question, and it would have been submission.

  Fortunately I had an excuse, having explained to Stephen my determination not to do anything that might come back to haunt me. As I explained I was very conscious of having already done so, and with a vengeance, but he didn’t even know about Violet, let alone James. So he accepted what I had to say and the idea was put on the shelf, to remain a fantasy unless one day it proved possible without risk.

  We spent the rest of the afternoon together, increasing my sense of having scored a victory, but I knew he was still seeing a lot of Giles and presumably for the same purpose. He hadn’t admitted to it either, as such, although I was pretty sure that he was aware that I’d at least guessed. Not mentioning it had become yet another tactful compromise, and with my own circumstances I could see that a need for discretion was going to become an ever more important part of my life.

  As it happened I saw Giles before Stephen did, when I went over to the Chamber after dinner. He was in the bar, as usual, but instead of holding forth to a group of cronies in what had become almost his personal armchair he was at a table in the far corner, alone but for a girl I didn’t recognise. She was small, blonde, strikingly pretty and blessed, or cursed, with awkwardly large round breasts, something it was impossible to miss. As I drew nearer I saw that despite a tiny waist she was equally well endowed in the bottom department. I was curious and not about to be put off by the distinctly uninviting glance he threw me as I approached their table.

  ‘Hello, Giles. Hello. Aren’t you going to introduce me?’

  ‘Good manners oblige, I suppose. Poppy, meet Lucy Smith. Lucy, this is Poppaea, a dreadful hack who has usurped my position as Recorder.’

  She answered in a soft voice, all sex and bemusement. ‘But you’re the President?’

  ‘A position she will also usurp in due time. Now if you don’t mind, Poppy, my sweet, I’m trying to seduce this gorgeous young lady and you are rather cramping my style, as I believe the expression goes.’

  It struck me that even Giles wouldn’t have spoken the way he had unless the seduction was complete. She giggled, confirming my suspicions and increasing my curiosity. I chose to ignore him, addressing her instead.

  ‘Hi. I’m at Boniface, reading PPE, and you?’

  ‘Maths, at Mary’s.’

  I’d been half expecting her to say she wasn’t at the university at all, because she looked and spoke as if she belonged in a glamour magazine, but I’d met enough mathematicians to know that they can be intelligent in a completely different way to the rest of humanity. She was nice too, eager to be friendly and plainly captivated by Giles, so that after exchanging a few pleasantries I decided it was best to leave them alone after all, and to help things along a bit.

  ‘I’ll leave you to it then. Lucky girl.’

  Giles said something I didn’t catch as I made for the bar, where I ordered a gin and tonic. Instead of joining any of the people I knew, I perched myself on a stool, lost in thought. Lucy was sex on a stick, from a teenage boy’s perspective, all boobs and bum and as pretty as a picture, and while I was a little surprised that Giles was interested in her there was obviously something between them. That could only be to my advantage, as far as Stephen was concerned, as with any luck Giles would be getting all he could handle from Lucy and not want to risk her finding out about his dirty habits. I was determined to help push the relationship along in any way I could, a decision made without a trace of guilt. After all, neither Giles nor Stephen had bothered to consult me, or even to tell me.

  My chance came sooner than I expected. I’d barely finished my drink when the Secretary came in, making a beeline for Giles. Whatever it was looked urgent and I joined them again, listening as the Secretary explained the looming crisis over Giles’ determination to choose speakers with the most radical views possible.

  ‘… and they’re threatening some sort of direct action. The General Secretary is on the phone, and you’re going to have to speak to him yourself.’

  Giles drew a sigh as he heaved himself up from his chair. ‘Wretched little people, they have no concept of the meaning of free speech. Look after Lucy, would you, Pops? I shall not be long, I hope.’

  I slid myself into his chair, immediately apologising to Lucy on Giles’ behalf. ‘I’m afraid that sort of thing happens all the time, but don’t let it put you off. You two are together, aren’t you? Sorry, I don’t mean to be nosy, but …’

  ‘That’s OK. Yes, sort of, I suppose.’

  ‘You’re so lucky. Everybody likes Giles … not me, of course, because I’m with his best friend, Stephen. We must all go out together sometime.’

  ‘I’d like that, thank you.’

  ‘No, really. I’ll come over to Mary’s later in the week and sort it out if you like, because if we leave it to the boys it’ll never happen. But how come I haven’t seen you about? Are you a Chamber member?’

  ‘No, not here. The Student Union, yes. I suppose I keep myself to myself, really, and there’s Chess Club, and Pi. Giles is so sweet, isn’t he?’

  I’d been right. She was a mathematician through and through, brilliant but utterly naïve. Nobody else could have described Giles as sweet, especially after going to bed with him, as she presumably had. I’d never been entirely sure what he was into, but between some of the things he’d said and talking to Stephen I was pretty sure he was a dirty bastard. Fortunately I’d become an accomplished liar.

  ‘Yes, he’s lovely. So how did you two get together?’

  ‘He came up to my room and asked me out. I was really surprised. He’d never even spoken to me before, and he is the best-looking man in college. I’m always seeing him about the place with the most beautiful girls.’

  The temptation to make some remark about Giles being seen with beautiful men as well as women was considerable, but I kept my thoughts to myself. Instead we began to chat about university life, and the more I drew her out the more surprised I became that Giles had fixed on her. She was quite shy, and distinctly introverted, had got in from a South London comprehensive with perfect A levels and quite simply didn’t belong to his world in any way at all, except that they were both at Mary’s. He also preferred boys, while she was abundantly feminine. What she did have was a sense of mischief, and it was easy to imagine her letting herself go completely in bed, which was presumably why he found her attractive.

  Before long he returned to the table, still trying to seem nonchalant but plainly angry. ‘It really is extraordinary. I tried to explain to the wretched little oik that just because I invite a speaker doesn’t mean I share their opinions, but he simply wouldn’t listen. If we let Suarez speak his gang of layabouts won’t work, not that we’re likely to notice, and apparently at least half the pinkos in the university will be picketing the gates.’

  ‘Are you going to cancel?’

  ‘Certainly not. Think of the publicity, you foolish girl. We’ll be on the national news. There’ll have to be a vote though, and that, Poppaea, means work. Sorry, Lucy, but Poppy and I have to persuade at least two hundred people that freedom of speech outweighs personal politics.’

  ‘Can I help?’

  ‘Only by going back to college, pouring yourself a large glass of whatever takes your fancy and getting into my bed.’

  She giggled in response, not in the least embarrassed by his suggestion, for all her apparent shyness. Giles gave her his room key and kissed her with real affection, or so it seemed, and she looked back twice across her shoulder before leav
ing the bar. For a moment he and I were alone.

  ‘She’s nice.’

  ‘Nice? She’s delectable. Tits like melons and the morals of a rutting polecat. You could learn a thing or two from her. To think I have to talk to these idiots when I could be in bed with her, but still, better get on with it, eh? Unless you fancy giving me a quick bj in the loos first, just as a spot of stress therapy?’

  ‘No, I do not.’

  We got down to work, circulating among our colleagues and explaining the same points over and over again. I was also going to have to organise the press, despite having no particular interest in the cause, beyond being in broad agreement with Giles on freedom of speech and wanting to hear what Suarez had to say out of a sort of horrid fascination.

  It was gone eleven o’clock before we decided that we’d done all we could, and as I started back for college I was ready for bed. Giles walked with me as far as Boniface Lodge, kissing me goodnight before hurrying on to Mary’s and Lucy. I hurried into college, rather pleased with myself despite being so tired. The day had gone rather well, and would be perfect if Violet was still awake and was game for a cuddle.

  Our oak was shut and my spirits fell, but I unlocked it to find her door open. She was sitting on her bed, dressed in nothing but stockings and black French knickers, with her hairbrush in one hand and a meaningful look in her eyes. I managed a nervous smile.

  ‘What’s this for?’

  ‘I saw you, you bad girl, and I heard you. What was it, being shared by two men? You are a disgrace, Poppy Miller. Now come down across my knee, this instant!’

  ‘Hang on, you mean you peeped at me with Stephen!?’

  ‘Yes, and I saw everything.’

  ‘Exactly, and what happened when I peeped at you?’

  She didn’t answer, her stern expression fading to uncertainty.