Educating Karol

My name is Karol and I am a second year student studying English Lit. I am based in London where my parents, originally from Sweden have now lived for the last eight years. Consequently I went to school here from the age of twelve, growing up just about bilingual, but, I am pleased to say looking every part of the blonde Swedish nymphet stereotypes seen on film. I did pretty well at school considering the little language difficulty at first and passed good 'A' levels to get a place at University. I have found going to Uni here amazing. I am having such a good time, and learning a lot about your English books, both ancient and very modern. It's a great course, and the Prof isn't bad either! He makes you really feel at home in his apartment where we have the occasional more intimate readings. I don't mean intimate as in intimate. This is where my English falls down. I mean intimate as in six or seven of us reading and discussing the book in front of a roaring log fire with a glass of wine. That intimate.

I stayed in halls for the first year and made many new friends. The second year of course we had to find our own accommodation and as my fathers job with the embassy is in London he has had to give me an allowance big enough to share a flat with a few other students. Thank you Pappa. This is a little tale about that flat.

There are five of us living together. Actually that's not quite correct, Pete dropped out a month back, mid-way through the second term of this second year, so there are four of us sharing a house about two miles from the campus, although Pete does come back and see us from time to time. Mainly when he needs a bed for the night because he missed his train home. He was almost a local boy to Liverpool here.

So here we are, a really mixed bag, both in backgrounds and degrees. Bled is doing biology, and is from Croatia. Football appears to be her one true love. She both plays and of course enjoys watching her national team play. She is very nationalistic. And fit! And clever! Her English is even better than mine.

Allie is next. A Scottish girl from Aberdeen, doing film studies, and I thought Bled was nationalistic. Woah. If she could wear the woad blue dye that she keeps talking about she would. She likes to keep showing us the film Braveheart in order to tell us how much the Scots have been trodden down. And that would start Pete off about what the Vikings did to the Liverpudlians in years gone by. As I ask him what is wrong with a little rape and pillage?

Bob psychology. He was an orphan brought up by foster parents in Bath. Bath Rugby Club supporters. He claimed not to be interested in sport at all but would always make sure he just happened to be in the pub to watch the match when the Internationals were on.

Bled and I were the first to get acquainted in our first halls and really got on very well together. I met Allie when we shared a class where modern Literature meets film.

Pete and Bob were also floor buddies from their first halls and Pete had shared a few classes with Bled as he was doing sports Physio. She used to tell me about this fit boy in her class and one day we met him with Bob, who was even bigger and fitter, although awfully shy. Pete had a girlfriend back at home as it turned out, but despite this we all got on well. When we started looking for flats Allie Bled and I thought it would be a good idea to share with a couple of boys. They might introduce us to a few more fit boys.

As Allie pointed out we did sound like an old film title, Bob and Karol, Bled and Allie. As we were not around watching films when the original came out she had to tell us the original title 'Bob and Carol, Ted and Alice', to explain the joke. She does like to compare everything in life to old films. She is definitely doing the correct degree. She did get one thing wrong in her analogy. Unlike in the film there was no sex going on between the four of us. The only one who was getting any was lucky old Pete. As it happened Pete did not hang around for long. His girlfriend and local friends were too much of a pull.

Pete was the stable one until he started clubbing and doing E with a new girl friend he met at a rave. He had been Mr. Organised. The house was organised by rota, cooking was easier because he had organised funds that we had to contribute towards, but would provide herbs and cooking staples, cleaning because he had another one to buy soap powders and things. Use of the communal lounge for visiting friends was rationed so that the five of us residents could all get together. The house functioned like a dream leaving us to concentrate on studying. At least that was the theory. But it did work well and the bonus was that we all got on.

The three of us girls had been friends since the first year so when we had to move off campus we were always going to go together. The house we liked and could afford had five small rooms so that decided the number of tenants that we needed. Luckily Bob and Pete had decided that they were going to share a flat somewhere and had been unable to find a really small one for two. Two boys were good for security and fun to have around. We also expected them to be less bitchy than another couple of girls. We had a long chat one evening before we committed to move in together and they appeared to have no bad habits, apart from the normal toilet seat one. I had a brother and was used to this, but Bled and Allie never could get used to it.

Pete really caused a lot of hassle by disappearing mid term. Of course, because he had been organised about collecting money we had his deposit for the house, which helped but still left us tight week by week. But it was his rotas and nagging we really missed, the house began to get scruffier by the week.

It was Allie who hit on the ideas of fines for not doing jobs around the house, and then me I think who said that we could not afford fines, but would settle for penalties or forfeits. The first month everything worked out well. Penalties for not cleaning or cooking on your set days were set for example, doing all the washing up for a week, doing the laundry run for every ones clothes.

One evening we were all sitting in the lounge gossiping and sharing a box of wine, a major staple of our diet, when Bob said 'You know this is still not working as well as it used to. The penalties are not difficult enough and too boring. Perhaps we should make someone shoplift a case of wine if they miss cleaning the loo this week.'

That triggered a suggested range of ludicrous penalties. Before we knew where we were, we would have been bank robbers and then eventually the modern equivalent of Guy Fawkes as we demonstrated out student desires to blow up Parliament.

Bled did point out that she particularly would have problems with anything illegal as she only had a student visa and did not want to be sent home in disgrace to Dubrovnik.

Trust a boy to come up with the next idea. 'Sex'. He said and we laughed. 'Sexual favours if the cleaning is not done on time.'

'Yeah riiight,' we continued to laugh. 'Have you noticed perhaps that as the only boy here that that might be a little too biased to your advantage.' Again the conversation went on to ludicrous extremes as one or another of us were prostituted or sold into slavery for burning the toast.

'But seriously,' said Bob 'let us all write a forfeit, put it in a hat and draw one out if there is one to be given'.

The wine we had drunk pushed us into agreeing and we had a semi-serious discussion at last and Bob collected 4 pieces of paper and a pen. It all went quiet for 10 minutes and four little pieces of folded paper were sitting on the table.

'Och, do we look at them now?' said Allie her Scottish accent becoming stronger as the excitement unfolded.

'Not until someone needs to,' Bob insisted. 'The anticipation is half the fun,' spoke the Psychologist inside.

Later that week there was no bread for toast. It was on your list they said to me.

'I just forgot it. Sorry. I will get it tomorrow.'

'Forfeit,' they all shouted together as they rushed into the lounge to retrieve the pot the papers were in. I have always been a sport so said. 'Listen lets read them out, we are dying to know what they say and I will do the last one.'

Well that was unanimous. I was not too worried, nobody would have gone over the top would they. I began to feel a tightening in my groin as I pulled out the first one, mine as it turned out.

'Wash everyone's underwear by hand for a week.' To laughter.

'Fully undress in front of all of us.'

We looked at Bob and he blushed. 'What makes you think that was me?' he said.

That got me a little worried that I had misunderstood how serious this game could get. It also appealed to my slightly voyeuristic nature that I would have liked someone else to get that one.

'Wear no knickers for a week.' I had really misunderstood the nature of my flat mates.

Shivering slightly I unfolded the fourth one.

'Describe in detail your loss of virginity.'

I laughed. I do not do English Literature for nothing. I could tell a story. It crossed my mind to make up a story of a black Caribbean hunk on a beach in Barbados. His black skin against my lilywhite blonde complexion. Do you think I could tell them how he tragically killed himself next day on his surf-board. They recognized the signs of me thinking.

'The truth now.'

Well it was not a bad story anyway.

'Get me a bottle of wine. Are you sitting comfortably, then I will begin.'

'It was the night after my sixteenth birthday.'

'Yeaah right.'

'No really. Truthfully. I had been going steady for about three months with a boy in the year above me at school called Kevin. He had not been my first boyfriend but the earlier ones were just long kisses and gropes mainly over our clothes. Kevin was a bit of a slow starter but we had already gone well past kissing. I had experimented with him and ended up giving him a sort of blow-job in the park under the trees on about our fifth or sixth time out. It was my first experience of anything like that and I thought it was really fun to watch him spurt. He wanted to fuck me but we agreed to wait until I was sixteen in a matter of days. My birthday was a Saturday and we had a family party with my Grandparents coming over from Sweden, but Sunday was going to be my main present I hoped. I have always been quite busty and at sixteen, with a push'em up bra and a gap between my teeth I felt I was quite the St.Trinians girl. That afternoon we went round to his house while his parents were at his married sister's.

We kissed for a while and he had his hands up under my jumper reaching down inside my bra and I thought I was going to die of passion. I was feeling tense and itchy in my knickers. He did not wait to undress me but pushed me down to the sofa and pulled up my skirt around the waist, still kissing me feverishly. I could see that he really wanted to break away from the kiss and look what he was doing, but he did not have the nerve. He pulled my knickers down and off my feet and started to feel between my legs. He stopped that briefly, and pulled his trousers and pants down round his ankles and levered himself on top of me.

More by luck than judgement, he pushed his prick, which was reasonably long, deep into me and I remember screaming and clamping my legs around him.

This triggered his reaction and there it was gone. His orgasm and my virginity had come and gone in a trice. I was left feeling a little ... well was that it? I had read the books, where were the bells ringing and the earth moving. Had I had an orgasm? Should I not be able to tell? Anyway that was it.' I shrugged. 'That's all there was to losing my virginity. It did get more fun later but I am pleased to say with someone else, a bit older who knew what he was doing to me.'

The other three laughed and before I knew what was going on everyone else was telling the stories of their first times. My forfeit had gone fairly well, but horrors, we now had to choose four more. I had recognised from two of the earlier challenges that I had got off fairly lightly and now that I had done one, surely the odds were against me getting another one.

I thought long and hard about the undressing and wrote down 'Take and show porno photographs of yourself.' I just hoped I did not pull it myself.

Well a few days later Allie missed her day to clean the toilet and so there we were gathered again around the ubiquitous bottle of wine. She admitted that she should have cleaned it and was resigned to her pick. 'Before I do,' she said indignantly. 'What about Bob and his not lifting the toilet seat.'

'Absolutely right,' agreed Bled and who was I to disagree.

'I think we have two picks this time.' I said eager for someone else to step up to the plate, 'but this time shall we leave the others untouched and just add to them to give a bigger choice.

This was unanimously agreed and Bob pulled out the first one. It was my one about the porno pictures. Bob actually looked to relish that one.

'I have a friend with a Polaroid,' he said. 'Friday evening I will do them and show them.'

Allie was going a little pink, I knew how she had felt. She pulled out a variation on the 'no knickers.'

'Oh no,' she said. 'No knickers until Monday and only allowed a mini skirt'.

We all laughed. 'Up you go and change'.

She came down 10 minutes later wearing a really short mini and black tights with a happy smile.

'Oh no you don't,' we said as a group. 'Where is the penalty if that is what you are going to wear.'

'If you wear those there will be another pick as well,' I added.

We sat around here chanting 'Off! Off! Here and now!'

Her freckles seemed to join up as she went pink and, turning her back particularly on Bob, she slipped her hands under her skirt and pulled them down. Bob by now is leaning right back in the chair lowering his body to look up at her.

'Give us a twirl,' he grinned.

But she sat down and wriggled deep into the chair. Of course within half an hour and another couple of bottles, Bob said 'So you are a natural blonde then.' And we all laughed except Allie and added a few more challenges into the pot.

We were looking forward to Friday as Bob had arrived home camera in hand. 'I will be about half an hour,' he said as all of us girls sat around in the lounge with a bottle. Bob was nearer the hour and a couple of bottles. He claimed to have to experiment with the timer and the focussing and certainly the first few shots he showed us could have been anything.

Eventually there was one in focus from the front showing a respectable size prick and balls but still half hanging. The next one was him bending over and you could even see the hairs on his arse. We pretended to be disgusted with this to cries of 'Would your mum recognise that one?' The next two or three were front on and side views of his rampant cock and really it was not too bad at all. He was obviously proud of it, so we had to take the mickey, but really... well ... He attracted a few sideways glances. The last one made us cry out in shock. It was a cum shot but there on his bed, the aiming point for his shots were our teddy bears that he had collected from our bedrooms.

Bled was livid. She jumped to her feet and tried to hit him before storming up the stairs. It was next day before we saw her again when she said that she was sorry that she had over-reacted and that she had added another couple of challenges to the pot in the hope of getting even with Bob. Her Teddy had suffered no terminal damage and was not even pregnant she revealed with a grin.

Sunday was the last day for Allies punishment and as we sat around talking we asked how it had been all week. She grinned and said that she had enjoyed it and would do it again. She had needed to masturbate on two or three occasions and had really become quite forgetful about how she sat. She did not need to tell us that, as we had had an eyeful on more than one occasion of both her bum and glimpses of pubic hair She had a very nice pert bottom and sparse blonde hair.

'Lets have a little fun,' said Bob 'and pull out a couple for this evening. Just to have a laugh.'

We were all up for this expecting Bled to have to go first but she quite rightly insisted on drawing lots. Anyway I lost and drew out to my great embarrassment 'Give a half hour underwear fashion show.'

This quite tickled my sense of the ridiculous and I rushed off to find some clean underwear. I found four clean lots but by the time I came down with the first lot on but by then they had decided I needed to show seven lots with a mininum of fourteen items. I rustled around and found two more sets in the wash bin but was then stuck. That's all I had.

Bob said not to worry he would supply the tenth as he had purchased something suitable for the show after putting in the suggestion himself. If I say so myself I looked good and got loads of applause. My bras were all fairly modest and included sports bras and my panties, including a nice line in french knickers were really not too revealing. No worse than a day on the beach. The last of my nine had included stocking and suspenders and my briefest panties and balcony bra and I know I looked good. Bob grinned and gave me a bag to go upstairs with. ' Leave on the stockings' he said. 'They will almost match.' The underwear lived up to my worst fears. Clear pink net bra and panties with a split crotch. Oh dear. I heard Bob and the other two laughing and I knew he was telling them about it. Oh well in for a penny I thought, slung on some high heels and paraded around the room to various degrees of jealousy and lust. 'Sit down and stay like that all evening,' said Bob, and for some reason I did. It had started turning me on and I could not help but think of the size of Bob's dick that we had seen pictures of earlier.

'Who is next?' I said. 'It must be Bled.' And so it turned out.

'A striptease.' Well Allie and I were pleased that it brought Bled down to the undressed level of the two of us. Bob certainly wasn't unhappy either.

Bled gulped, finished and refilled her glass as Bob went to the CD player. An album of soul was his choice and she stood up after a deep breath, with the opening bars.

Bled has an olive complexion and long black hair, long slim legs and body and has always moaned about the small size of her breasts.

She moved slowly, gyrating to the music, eyes closed and slowly rubbing her breasts, hands moving down to her thighs. She peeled back her cardigan, an unusual item for a stripper, her pink strappy top showing the straps of a white bra beneath. This top was the next item to go and was sensuously peeled over her head to a round of applause and encouraging calls. Her lacy white bra really looked good against her dark body and while her breasts were not large, the bra pushed them enticingly forward. I began to doubt my sexuality. I had only ever felt straight, but the dampness between my legs caused by the fashion parade began again. I noticed Bob adjusting his trousers as Bled turned away from him and started to unzip her calf length skirt. She wore no tights, stockings or slip so her skirt was lowered over her slim bottom and long, long legs displaying matching lacy hi-leg panties and a prominent mound of hair. Now coincidentally the music changed to a slightly faster number and she looked us in the eyes and pushed out her hips. You could see she was starting to enjoy it. A damp patch was visibly growing, dragging our eyes back to her panties. She slipped off the straps of her bra holding it with one arm against her, until eventually it was thrown onto her chair. The atmosphere was tense, the challenge had not said how far the striptease had to go. Would she continue? Minutes passed as I jealously admired her legs and athletic poise. She bent from the waist in front of Bob, her legs wide apart and dropped to the splits. She rolled over on the floor like a gymnast and then lay still for seconds. Should we applaud? Was it over? She started massaging her breasts again lying on the floor. Her hands snaked down to her hips and she rolled the elastic of her panties to hip level, exposing an inch of dark fleecy pubic hair before she rolled onto her tummy. The elastic came halfway up her cheeks as she lay there. She got to her knees with her head lowered to the floor. The elastic of her panties rolled further down her bottom exposing most of the cheeks and covering merely her vulva. She got to her feet and they slipped to the floor and were kicked away. Her hair continued to obscure her lips but as she danced and bent and eventually went into the splits again her deep red gash showed fleetingly through. The track finished and she bowed deeply to each of us in turn, showing more to the person sitting behind her than perhaps she realised. But maybe not!