Freshers Ch. 01

"What the hell are you doing??" I gasped in surprise.

"What does it look like?" She scoffed in reply, "I'm taking my clothes off of course! If we're going to be naturists, then I say we may as well adopt the lifestyle fully. From now on, whenever I am home I shall go around naked and I want you to join me. Unless we have visitors, of course. I mean, we have to respect that not everyone wants to see us in the nude."

"Oh, I think I could live with seeing you naked every day quite happily!" I smirked.

She unhooked and slipped off her bra to leave her in nothing more than her delicate lace panties. The sight of her stood there in just her knickers alighted a fire in my loins, but I was aware of what happened earlier that morning and an idea suddenly formed in my head. I came and stood before her and suddenly picked her up.

"What are you doing?!?" She squealed as I took her over my shoulder in a fireman's lift.

"Repaying a favour!" I replied.

I took her into the living room and set her down on the settee, within moments I was down on my knees in front of her. I reached up and took hold of her delicate underwear, and she compliantly raised her bottom slightly allowing me to slip them off down her legs to leave her completely naked. She looked back at me, biting her lip slightly with a kind of 'rabbit in the headlights' look in her eyes. I placed my hands on her knees and moved her legs apart to reveal her luscious vulva to my gaze - suddenly my quarry was in my sights and I moved in for the kill. I buried my face into her fleshy folds, my tongue rasping along the length of her cleft. She murmured her appreciation almost immediately and then suddenly yelped as my tongue grazed over her clitoris.

It never fails to impress me just how sensitive this tiny little bud of an organ is and the effect that even the lightest touch can have on the woman who possesses it. Of course, what we see on the outside is but the tip of the iceberg as far as the rest of the clitoris is concerned. Just as its male counterpart the penis extends far into the body, so too does the clitoris. I knew how electrifying it was when Beth used her tongue on my exposed glans, the delicious memory from earlier that morning replaying through my mind, so I was well aware of how amazing my tongue felt for her. I guess I looked like some kind of monk, kneeling in prayer and reverence of some sacred feminine deity as I lapped away between Beth's legs. I couldn't help but snigger at the notion.

"What's so funny?!?" Beth giggled.

"Nothing, it's just that... well, I feel as though I'm sort of... worshipping you or something." I replied.

"Aww... I never knew you looked up to me in that way!" Beth sniggered in reply, "Anyway, whatever it is you're doing, keep doing it! Don't stop!"

"Yes O, my holy Goddess." I replied theatrically, "I shall obey my divine lady's wishes!"

Beth squealed once again as I resumed my oral explorations. There are many things in life that deliver me satisfaction: that feeling of accomplishment at solving a particularly tricky crossword, the wind-in-the-hair feeling of making it to the summit of Mount Snowdon with Beth and my parents a few summers ago while we were on holiday in Wales, the joy of nailing a rather intricate guitar solo for the first time, but nothing ever comes close to the feeling of satisfaction I get from making my sister feel good. Of course I loved Terri too, and over the course of our recent holiday my feelings of affection for her had grown and grown. But that was the difference between them, you see. I felt affection for Terri, but for Beth I felt a genuine and undying love.

My thoughts suddenly turned to Alex as I continued to nuzzle and lick around Beth's labia. My feelings towards him and to other guys in general still confused me, but I was at least coming to terms with being bisexual. Did I love Alex as much as I loved Beth? That was the question I had asked myself almost constantly since we arrived home from our holiday. I still did not know the answer. I knew I did love him, of that I was sure, but I simply could not resolve whether or not I could love both Beth and Alex equally. I wondered what would happen when Alex and Jenny finally got around to coming to visit us as they had promised. The only thing I knew for certain was that it would surely be very emotional.

I returned my attention to the job at hand - or mouth as the case was at the time. I probed my tongue deep into Beth's vagina, forcing her fleshy inner lips apart. Her vulva was oozing with vaginal secretions that coated my mouth and nose. I breathed in her scent as I nuzzled her vagina and listened to the sound of her stuttering breaths and whimpering gasps as I probed inside her.

"Ooooo... Oh-h-h-h-h..." She gasped.

The only other sounds to be heard in the room were the soft ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece and the gentle lapping of my tongue. I kept it up for what must have been 10 minutes or so - that old metaphor of a man being like a popping champagne bottle and a woman being like a pan of water on a stove slowly coming to the boil may sound like a tired old comparison, but there is of course more than just a tiny nugget of truth to it. I knew Beth needed longer to reach the zenith of orgasmic pleasure than I did and so I was more than patient enough when it came to coaxing her to get there. I just simply contented myself with lapping away at her and listening to the sounds she made.

Eventually though, I did step things up a couple of notches. I removed my tongue from her vagina and replaced it with a couple of my fingers. My other hand went up to tweak her by then stiffly aroused nipples. The effect it had on her was instantaneous - she let out a sudden yelp and I felt her whole body stiffen for a few seconds.

"Hahh!! Oooohhh!!" She gasped.

I looked up at her for a moment - her eyes were tightly screwed shut and she was biting her bottom lip. Her skin was covered in goosebumps as every single follicle on her body stood erect, her skin glistened with a fine sheen of perspiration - she was on the brink of coming to the boil.

All she needed was one final push, one last kick of heat to send her from merely simmering to full-on boiling. I once more buried my head between her legs and forced my tongue against her clitoris.

"HAHHHHHH!! Oh fuck Tommy!! Oh shi... Oh Tommy I'm... I'm c-c-commmminnnnnggg!! HAHHHHHHHH!! ARGHHHHH!! OHHHHHHHHHH!! HAHHHHHHH!!"

I felt her legs clamping the side of my head as she reached the very pinnacle of pleasure. Even though her legs covered my ears muffling the sounds of her cries, I could still hear every single sound wave she made. How I love the sound of Beth in the throes of orgasm! With one final guttural roar she allowed her zenith to consume her.

"UUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHH-H-H-H-H-H-H!!"

And then she slowly began to come down from her summit of pleasure. It's always a gradual process, lasting a couple of minutes, but as she moaned and purred contentedly I marvelled at what I had done to her. And she had the gall to snigger at me for falling asleep for a moment after she made me cum that morning!

"Mmmmm... Ohh, Tommy-bear, that was amazing!" She murmured after a while, her eyes still closed, her beautiful naked body lying limply on the settee.

It took her a minute or so to fully come around and finally become aware of her surroundings once again.

"That was fantastic Tommy!" She said, now fully lucid once more, "Would you like me to... y'know..."

"Hey don't worry about it!" I replied with a smirk, "Just paying you back for this morning. You made me cum this morning, and now I've made you cum. Fair's fair, as they say."

Beth smiled broadly and chuckled slightly.

"Okay Mr. Tommy-bear, I hear you. Hey, am I going to be the only one naked around here? Are you going to join me or not?" Beth asked as she sat up.

I pondered for a moment. I quite liked having her naked whilst I remained clothed. It was a nice reversal of the times when it was I who was naked whilst she was clothed.

"Maybe later." I replied eventually, "I believe I was in the middle of cooking dinner!"

"But you like cooking naked!!" Beth barked suddenly.

"Well, yes I do." I confessed, "But not as much as I enjoy seeing you naked."

"You absolute pig!!" She shrieked and threw a cushion at me as I left the room. I could tell though by the sound of giggling a second later that she didn't really mean it.

---

We sat in the kitchen and enjoyed our evening meal together, me sitting fully clothed while she remained naked. It wasn't anything elaborate, just some pork loins and boiled vegetables, but I was pretty pleased with my efforts. We indulged in a spot of dessert afterwards: a chocolate sponge pudding with plenty of deliciously hot custard. It was a bit of an indulgence given our new status as impoverished students, but I felt like pushing the boat out to mark our first full day in our new home.

Eventually, after watching Beth doing the washing up in the nude, I decided not to tease her any longer. I took off all my clothes and joined her completely naked for the rest of the evening.

And that was how we stayed, right through the night and all through Sunday. In fact, neither of us wore a stitch of clothing until it was time to head off for our first day in university the following Monday morning. We'd been completely naked together for the last 36 hours!

The Importance of Memory (Beth)

It was Friday, the last day of our first full week away from home and the end of a whirlwind first week at the York Institute of Art & Design for myself. It had been a compelling time of getting to know new people, navigating the various buildings that made up the institute's campus, attending lectures and sitting for hours at a time behind an easel. I was studying fashion design mainly, with additional units in painting and art history. The fashion design aspects of my course seemed pretty intense, which I was kind of expecting, since fashion is a very competitive industry to get into, but that was tempered by the peaceful nature of my painting classes. I had always been good with painting, mainly using watercolours and acrylics to paint scenes taken from old photographs, so it made sense take this unit and improve my skills.

There is something quite zen in sitting at a stool with a canvas before you, almost meditative in fact, and after a hard morning with the fashion students, it was nice to spend the afternoon in the painting studio. Our lecturer was a woman named Phyllis, who had a stereotypically artsy look about her. She was in her mid-50's or so with long greying hair. She wore very loose, flowing dresses accentuated with long strings of beads around her neck. I liked her almost from the first time she introduced herself to us. Our course was to explore all aspects of painting and sketching, from simple still life observations using various mediums, to more complicated work using live models, painting from memory, and experimentation with various materials. We were to examine art movements such as the Old Masters, Pre-Raphaelite painters, Impressionism, Cubism, Surrealism and many others. I couldn't wait to get stuck in!

Of course, as pretty much all of us expected, Phyllis announced that the live models we would be working with would be posing nude, although we wouldn't be doing life classes until after Christmas. Our first couple of sessions were basically sketching the traditional still-life of a bowl of fruit, but for today's session she decided to step things up a notch: sketching from memory.

"Now, I know all of you are already competent artists. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here." Phyllis began as she wheeled in a trolley covered with a grey cloth draped over several objects beneath, "But it is necessary to try to unlearn some of the things you have learned thus far, and to look at still-life studies from a new perspective. Memory is one of the most important tools an artist has at their disposal, and this term what we shall be working on is your ability to work from memory. Can anyone tell me why this is an important aspect of painting and drawing?"

"In case the lighting changes for any reason?" One of my fellow students speculated.

"Well, that's one reason, and quite right indeed." Phyllis answered, "Lighting conditions in a studio environment such as this are pretty constant and can be controlled, but when out in the field, the lighting conditions can change in an instant, altering the way we view something. Sometimes even the slightest difference in light can change the nature of how we see a particular subject in the blink of an eye, so being able to remember how something was is as important as being able to paint something as it is. What I want you all to do in this session is to take no more than five minutes to observe the items I have laid out and then I want you to sketch from memory at least two of the items as quickly as you can. I want you to take no more than three minutes for each item. It doesn't have to be amazingly accurate, just so long as it is recognisable. Okay, now I'm going to remove the cloth here to reveal the six items I have for you to sketch and we'll see how we get on."

And with that, Phyllis removed the grey cloth draped over the objects on the table. Six objects sat in a row on the top of the trolley: a small porcelain figurine of a little girl in a dress holding a ball, a small toy boat, an old Bakelite telephone, a candelabra, a carriage clock and a toy car. We all gathered around the trolley trying to take in as much detail as possible. I decided to concentrate on the small figurine and the old telephone to begin with, trying to commit every last detail to my memory.

"Aaaaand... time's up!" Phyllis announced brightly as she covered the six items to obscure them from our view, "Now then, you all have three minutes to sketch the first item you chose, followed by three minutes to do your second object. Okay, and begin!"

In an instant, the sound of hurried sketching of charcoal on paper filled the room as we all got to work. I worked on the small figurine first, since I figured it was probably the hardest form to remember accurately, so I decided to work on it whilst it was still fresh in my mind. After three minutes, Phyllis announced we were to stop sketching the first item and start work on the second item. The old telephone was a pretty generic shape, so I managed to recall its various details quite easily. The only part I struggled with a little was the curves of the receiver that sat in its cradle.

"Okay, time's up everyone. Charcoal down - let's see what you have all come up with!"

She spent a few moments with each student, nodding appreciatively at our work as she went from student to student. After a short while she came to me. This was the first time my work had been appraised by anyone since my exams back at sixth-form college when I was doing my A-levels. It wasn't all that long ago but nevertheless I was still nervous.

"Ah, I see you went for the figurine." Phyllis said as she came to stand by my side.

"Well, I figured it might be the hardest one to do so I thought if I did that one first I'd be able to recall more of it." I replied.

"Not a bad idea!" Phyllis beamed, "Task prioritisation - a good skill to make use of! Very good work... Elizabeth isn't it?"

"Beth." I replied, suddenly filled with a warm feeling of inner pride, "Thank you, Phyllis!"

As she left my position to appraise the remaining students work I felt as though I had really made a good impression on our tutor. But little did I or any of my fellow students know, Phyllis had a trick up her sleeve.

"Well, I must say I am impressed by your work so far." She began as she took her place back at the front of the room beside the trolley once again, "Speed sketching from memory is a very useful skill to develop and I urge you all to practice it in your own time. Now then, I want you to choose another two items to sketch. Again, you only have three minutes to sketch each item. Only this time, I'm only giving you 30 seconds to memorise them!"

And she whipped off the cloth to reveal the six items once again. This time I concentrated on the candelabra and the toy car. As soon as she replaced the cloth she gave us the order to begin sketching once again. The sound of hurried scribbling filled the room for a second time.

We were quite an eclectic looking group of students. There were around 25 of us and seemed to come from what looked like a wide and varied mix of ages and ethnicities. It was clear though that the male students were in somewhat of a minority, however. As I did a quick head count before our first session started earlier that week, I counted only seven men among our ranks. Still, I figured that by contrast if I was studying engineering or chemistry, it would be us women that would be the minority. Whether that was right or wrong was a debate for another time and place, but did it bother me that women weren't so well represented among the scientific and engineering fields? I mused upon that thought for a moment as I sketched away on my pad of paper. I figured that, though it would be nice for everyone if there were as many women as men studying science and engineering, and it would be nice if there were more men studying art and design, but at the end of the day it didn't really matter - following one's heart is more important than making up the numbers. Sure, we should encourage girls to study maths and sciences, and yes, we should encourage boys to study more traditionally feminine studies such as the arts and humanities, but the last thing we should do is tell people what to do with their lives just so there can be equal numbers of female engineering students and equal numbers of male nursing students just to balance some feminist's spreadsheet somewhere.

"Okay, everyone, charcoal down again please!" Phyllis called out once again.

To my surprise, despite the fact that I'd briefly let my thoughts run away with me, I managed a pretty presentable sketch of the candelabra and the toy car and once again, as she came to inspect my work, Phyllis seemed pleased with my effort. But things were about to get a lot tougher!

"Okay then folks, you already know what I'm going to say next." Phyllis began, "I now want you to sketch the last two items on the trolley. Except this time, you will be given precisely zero seconds to memorise them! This will be a test of how good your memory really is!"

A brief but playful groan went around the room - I guess we should have seen it coming! Anyway, I tried my best to recall the last two items, the toy boat and the carriage clock, and once more I set about trying to sketch them as best I could.

---

I was looking forward to getting back to our flat by the time Phyllis ended her tutorial an hour or so later. She had us doing one or two other sketching exercises - it was fun but mentally taxing nonetheless. I had enjoyed the session immensely, and as the rest of the students filed out of the room I took the opportunity to have a quick word with our tutor.

"Um, hi Phyllis!" I said as I shoved my things into my bag.

"Yes... Beth, right?" Phyllis replied, "Do forgive me if I get your name wrong from time to time - it comes with the territory of having to recall so many students!"

"That's okay, I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed today - it was quite fun really." I said.

"Good, I'm glad you enjoyed it." Phyllis replied brightly as she leaned against her desk, "Memory is such an important thing to develop, but I try to approach it in a lighthearted manner. I don't like piling the pressure on first year students too soon - you're all just settling in and getting to know one another. Simply giving you all too much to deal with too soon can be quite counterproductive in my experience, I prefer a more fun approach - to begin with at least. You might end up hating me by the end of term though!"