Freshers Ch. 04

"I thought Terri just told her mum it was a French boy that 'took her virtue'?"

"Well, yes - but I did sort of promise Mum and Dad that if the opportunity presented itself, I would own up to taking Terri's virginity," I pointed out.

"She'll be fine," Beth tried to assure me. "I'm not saying she won't be shocked, and that yes, she might get a bit angry, but I'm sure she'll come around in the end. I mean, she loves Terri - she's her only child, and all she wants is for her to be happy."

"Huh! 'Happy' in her mind, means Terri being as chaste and virtuous as an eighty five year old nun, or something," I groused.

"Look, what is it they say? Absence makes the heart grow fonder? I'm pretty sure this past couple of months of separation has been hard on Terri's mum too - she may have mellowed a bit."

"I bloody well hope so!" I answered back. "I'm sure you can understand that I don't quite relish the prospect of becoming a eunuch! And anyway, it was partly your fault!"

"My fault? How?"

"Don't you remember? That night in the villa when Terri came into your room to find us having sex together?"

"Oh, yeah," Beth replied as the recollection of that night filtered back into her memory. "I guess I did sort of tell her it was okay by me if she wanted to have sex with you. But you know I'd stand by you when the time comes to tell Terri's mum the truth."

"I know you would," I said as I took her hand in mine and gave it a squeeze. "But I can't pretend I'm not nervous about it."

* * * * * *

A little under an hour later, Beth and I headed out into the night. It was a bitterly cold but cloudless evening, and already some of the cars parked out in the street glittered with a fine layer of frost. Together, we headed into the city centre to find a pub that served decent beer and reasonably priced food. We settled on a place called the Pig & Whistle, a short distance from the Minster, which promised us an evening of beer and a hearty meal. The sign that swung from a large bracket above the street depicted an anthropomorphic pig dressed in blue dungarees and skipping down a country lane whilst blowing into a tin whistle, presumably playing a jaunty tune.

It was busy inside, but then pretty much all of the pubs in the centre of York were like that, so we weren't deterred, and we made our way inside - myself to find us a table, while Beth went to the bar to order some drinks. The only table I could find was in a side room adjacent to the main bar, where a raucous gathering of young guys seemed to be in the middle of a birthday party or a stag do of some kind at the far end of the room. They were a bit loud and rowdy, but at least they weren't making any trouble. Some time later, Beth returned with a pint of lager for me, and a glass of red wine for herself.

"That lot over there sound like they're having a good night!" Beth nodded towards the lads in the corner as she sat down and picked up a menu.

"They're harmless I suppose," I said to her as I too perused the menu. "Must be some guy's birthday or something. Anyway, what do you fancy? My treat - courtesy of posing for Phyllis!"

"Ooh, decisions, decisions," Beth said as she scrutinised the list of the pub's culinary offerings.

The food selection on offer fell pretty much into the category of 'pub grub', rather than anything elaborate, and it was the sort of fare that was most definitely not à la carte or worthy of a Michelin star, but that was just fine by us - all we wanted was something hearty and filling and not too expensive.

Just as she had said back at our flat, Beth chose the gammon steak with chips, fried egg and peas, whilst I opted for toad in the hole with chips, peas and lashings of onion gravy. I went up to the bar to order our food, making a mental note of our table number.

"Half hour wait on food tonight, pet, we're quite busy tonight, as you can see," the young barmaid said to me as I paid for our order.

"That's okay," I replied as I took my change from her. "It's not like we have to be anywhere tonight."

I returned to our table and sat opposite my sister, imparting the news that we would have to wait a while for our food to arrive.

"Well, as long as it's cooked properly," Beth replied as she sipped her wine.

At the opposite end of the room, the group of lads broke out into an impromptu burst of singing. From the bawdy words it immediately became apparent who these guys were - they were obviously members of a local rugby club. For those who have never heard a rugby song before, they are often peppered with bad language and references to sex, and the song these lads were singing sounded fairly typical of the genre.

"Ah-hum, titty-bum, titty-bum, titty-bum. An engineer told me before he died, I have no reason to believe he lied, that no matter whatever he tried, his girlfriend was never satisfied! That girl she had a twat so wide, she never could be satisfied!

"The engineer he was a designer, so he measured the bore of her vagina. Then he built her a cock of steel, powered by a bloody great wheel. Yes he built her a bloody great wheel, with two brass balls and a cock of steel!"

Yes, it was fairly safe to say that the words of that particular ditty were rather filthy! But despite the foul language, Beth and I couldn't help but find the bawdy sing-along to be mildly amusing. We declined to join in, however.

"Two balls of brass were filled with cream, and the whole bloody issue was driven by steam. He tied his girl to the leg of the bed, he tied her hands above her head. There she lay demanding a fuck, he shook her hand and wished her luck. Round and round went the bloody great wheel, in and out went the cock of steel. Up and up went the level of steam, down and down went the level of cream. Till at last the maiden cried. Enough! Enough! I am satisfied!"

By now, the singing had attracted an audience from the adjacent room, and a few more people decided to join in.

"Now we come to the tragic bit, there was no way of stopping it. It went like the piston of a train, he should have fitted a gearing chain. Clouds of steam blew out the top, there wasn't any way to make it stop. It jumped off her, it jumped on him, and then it buggered their next of kin. It jumped onto a departing bus, and the mess it made caused quite a fuss. The last time, sir, that cock was seen, was in Buckingham Palace fucking the Queen!

"There's a moral to the story I tell, if you see it coming, better run like hell! Nine months later a child was born, with two brass balls and a bloody great horn. The warning in the story is, always fit a safety switch. The crux of the matter is plain to be seen, you should never trust a FUCKING MACHINE!"

As soon as the boozy gathering of rugby players finished the final stanza of their song, they erupted into a loud cheer, and they all raised their glasses and began chanting loudly.

"Oggie, oggie, oggie!"

"Oi, oi, oi!"

"Oggie, oggie, oggie!"

"Oi, oi, oi!"

"Oggie!"

"Oi!"

"Oggie!"

"Oi!"

"Oggie, oggie, oggie!"

"Oi, oi, oi!"

Yes, this crowd was definitely loud, and very, very bawdy!

After a few more songs, all of which were as saucy and expletive-laden as the first, our food arrived, and we both tucked in. The food was nothing fancy, what you might call 'comfort food', and the sausages in my toad in the hole were done to perfection. About halfway through devouring my meal, just as I was about to bring my fork up to my mouth, I noticed a couple of police officers, a man accompanied by a young woman, had entered the room.

"Hello, looks like someone's decided to put an end to those guy's fun!" I said to my sister as the officers approached the party of rugby players.

"Well, at least they'll tell them to quieten things down a bit," Beth remarked.

"Andy Samuels?" the female officer said to one of the rugby lads in a voice that had a familiar ring to it, but that I couldn't quite place at the time, seeing as it was coming from the opposite end of the crowded room. "My name is WPC Honeylips, and you have been a bad, bad boy!"

Suddenly, a cheer erupted among the young guy's teammates and the rest of the people gathered in the room as the young police constable took off her hat to reveal her long blonde hair that previously had been held up in place with a small pin, and placed it on the guest of honour's head as his mates sat him down in a chair in front of the girl.

Loud, sensual music began playing through the pub's sound system, and the 'police constable', who was obviously actually a stripper, began to dance sensually, albeit uneasily, whist taking off her overcoat. I must admit, I did feel kind of jealous of the guy in the chair in front of the girl as she went through her routine, gradually slipping out of one part of her uniform after another. I could only see what was going on from behind, but even so, it was still an arousing sight to behold. Beth on the other hand, was clearly not amused.

"Ugh! Look at 'em! Drooling all over that poor girl," my twin muttered. "Typical bloody men!"

"Hey!" I retorted defensively. "It's just a bit of fun, that's all."

A loud cheer erupted as the girl's skirt dropped to the floor. She deftly kicked the garment away and then placed her right leg on the chair the guy was sitting on, and then started to unclip her stockings from her garter belt, and proceeded to roll them down her legs, all whilst sensually gyrating to the slow beat of the music.

"Fun?" Beth snorted derisively. "This isn't fun! It's... it's objectification is what it is!"

"Oh, for pity's sake don't go all feminist on me! Please spare us!" I replied, albeit jokily.

"I'm not a feminist!" Beth retorted. "I just don't like to see women debasing themselves in public like this! I mean, would you like it if those blokes were a group of women, and it was a man getting his kit off while they drooled and leered at him?"

"Well, actually, no I wouldn't!" I replied with a wink.

"Okay, bad example for a bisexual guy, I guess," Beth shrugged. "But my point stands."

Another loud cheer erupted as the girl unbuttoned and then shrugged off her white uniform shirt, leaving her in only her bra and panties. It was at that moment that I was smashed in the face by a wall of partly horrified, partly astonished realisation. I noticed a small mole on the girl's left shoulder blade - a mole that I knew only too well, and had last seen only that very morning.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed. "That girl! It's Terri!"

"What?" Beth shrieked dramatically, sounding a little like Oscar Wilde's Lady Bracknell from The Importance of Being Earnest.

"That stripper, it's Terri!" I went on.

"Oh my God!" Beth gasped. "So this is what she's been doing for this so-called 'job' of hers! We've got to stop her!"

"You'll do no such thing!" I admonished my sister, grabbing her by the arm to prevent her from storming up to our roommate and putting an abrupt halt to her routine.

"Have you taken leave of your senses, Tommy?" Beth said to me in disbelief as Terri continued her striptease by removing her bra. "The poor girl's embarrassing and degrading herself up there!"

"Yes, and barging in there and yelling at her to stop is only going to embarrass her even more!" I hastily pointed out. "Just leave her be - let her finish and we'll talk to her about this later."

Some bloke somewhere in the crowd wolf-whistled loudly, as Terri slowly slid her underwear down off her hips to leave her totally naked in the crowded room. She twirled her tiny lace g-string around on her index finger before handing them to the clearly aroused birthday boy.

"Ugh! This is disgusting, I can't stand to watch anymore!" Beth said as she got up.

Fortunately she had clearly decided to heed my words, and instead of marching up to Terri, she instead discreetly stepped back through the crowd of people, and back into the main bar. Of course, I now found myself in something of a quandary - should I show solidarity and follow my sister, or should I stay and at least see that none of those burly rugby louts laid a finger on Terri. Of course, at that moment I realised that that was what her fellow 'police constable' was there for. The other 'officer' was clearly a minder of some kind, there to intervene if anyone tried to take advantage of the situation, and presumably to pick up her discarded clothes for her. Reassured that Terri was at least being looked out for, I followed Beth back into the pub's main room, where I found her looking somewhat upset at the far end of the bar.

"I can't believe she'd do something like that!" Beth said, clearly shaken as I approached her.

"I know, talk about a turn-up for the books," I replied. "I mean, our Terri, the once shy and naïve girl, working as a stripper of all things!"

"It's not that!" Beth said, with a hint of anger rising in her voice. "She lied to us, Tommy! All this time she's told us that she's been doing overtime as a promotions girl all over the north of England, when in reality she's been doing... that!"

Beth pointed into the other room, just as another rowdy cheer erupted. Putting two and two together, I deduced that maybe Terri's performance had reached its climax.

"Er, yes, of course," I sheepishly agreed with her.

She had a point of course. Even though Terri had confided in me about her day job only that morning, she had nevertheless been untruthful with me about what she was doing in the evening. She was, after all, supposed to be on her way back from Carlisle. One thing was for sure, when we eventually managed to get her home she'd have some questions to answer!

Q&A (Terri)

What an exhausting day it had been! Myself and the rest of my fellow promotions girls had put in another long day of standing around in our bikinis handing out free samples of SolaBlok to shoppers, and we were all suffering the after effects of having been on our feet almost all day. We were all still somewhat puzzled as to why the company that made the stuff was employing the girls of Viking Promotions Limited to promote their product, which was normally associated with sun, sand and sea, in a shopping centre in Leeds surrounded by Christmas decorations and twinkling lights, but ours was not to reason why.

Once we had put our normal clothes back on, and packed everything up and returned to base back in York, it was time for us to head off to our various assigned overtime engagements, where the real money was to be made. I had only been stripping for a few weeks, and to begin with I had found it to be horrifyingly embarrassing, and bloody scary too, but once I had done it the first few times I began to feel a little better about it. The money from a single striptease in some pub, club or wherever a client wished, was easily four times than what we were paid for the daytime promotions work. The thing that had really made a difference in my attitude towards being a strip-o-gram, however, was Tommy's words to me earlier that morning.

Yes, I had realised once his words had set in, that in an odd way it did make me feel empowered. I know it may seem completely counter-intuitive to draw a sense of empowerment from being so lewdly displayed for nothing more than the titillation of groups of rowdy men, but the fact that whilst I was stripping off I had their complete and undivided attention, not to mention their very obvious arousal, made me feel good about myself. They were, to use the old expression, quite literally "putty in my hands." For a once meek and naïve girl like me, the sense of power it gave me was beginning to become quite intoxicating.

The only thing I didn't feel good about, was having to lie to my friends about what I was doing with my evenings. But of course, unbeknownst to me, my subterfuge was about to come to a crashing end.

Phil, my minder and fellow 'police constable' for the evening gathered up my clothes for me once I had finished my routine for the rugby players, and ushered me into a small room behind the bar. I was as naked as a jay bird, but I was feeling an adrenaline rush that made my nipples feel like bullets. Phil, who was in fact my boss's brother, handed me my knickers and watched me as I gratefully put them back on. He continued to watch me dress as he handed the rest of my clothes to me - well, he, along with every other person in the pub, had just watched me undressing, so him seeing me getting dressed again was no big deal in comparison.

Surrounded by barrels of beer, bottles of wine and big boxes of bar snacks and crisps, I clothed myself once more.

"You were bloody amazing tonight," Phil said as he handed me my skirt. "You had those guys in the palm of your hand - did you see how hard the birthday boy was? I swear he was about to cum in his pants right there and then when you were taking your knickers off!"

"Thanks, Phil," I replied as I zipped up my skirt. "I think I'm really beginning to enjoy this job now."

"It hardly seems like a few weeks ago when I escorted you on your first job," Phil recalled wistfully as he leaned against a beer barrel. "You were terrified! You were even sick in the alleyway outside, as I seem to recall."

"Yeah, well, you would too if you were in the same position," I said as I took my shirt from him.

"I was, once," Phil replied.

"You? You were a stripper yourself?" I gasped at the sudden revelation.

"Yes I was, for my sins," Phil said with a shrug of his shoulders. "In fact, I was my sister's first stripper, to tell you the truth. She had this group of friends you see, back when she was a student in Hull, and one of them was celebrating her twenty first birthday. They'd all chipped in to pay for a stripper to entertain them in the house they were all sharing, but at the last minute the guy cancelled on them. So out of desperation, she asked if I wouldn't mind driving all the way down there and being their substitute stripper. I was pretty shocked at what she was asking me to do for her, as you can imagine!

"Now, I'd always been a bit of an exhibitionist at heart, I guess you could say - I was often seen around our house with nowt on. But the thought of doing a striptease in front of my sister and her housemates, well, it was a whole 'nother ballgame, as they say across the pond. But I loved my sister to bits - I still do, of course - and I knew it would mean a lot to her, so I agreed, thinking to myself, "well how hard can it be?" Famous last words, right?"

I rolled my eyes at Phil's pretty blatant double-entendre, and buttoned up my shirt as he continued his anecdote.

"Well, very hard, as it turned out - and in more ways than one!" Phil resumed with a wink. "When I arrived at her place and rang the doorbell I felt almost physically sick with nerves. But I didn't want to let her down, so I took a deep breath and pushed the button. After all, the last thing I was going to allow was for my kid sister to call me a wimp! I was shown into their living room where all of the housemates were gathered - there was eight of them, all crammed into the one house, sharing the bedrooms upstairs.

"So there I was, a nervous twenty three year old guy about to strip off and parade around naked for my sister and seven of her friends. I was bloody terrified! But I went ahead regardless, and once my sister put some sexy music for me to dance to, I began my rather obviously amateurish routine.

"Feeling the collective gaze of eight pairs of female eyes as I slowly gyrated my hips to the beat and gradually undressed myself for their appraising eyes is a feeling I'll never forget as long as I live!"

"I know, talk about a rush!" I agreed.