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THE SECOND YEAR

CHAPTER 4

Despite the distractions I passed my exams and was through to the second year.

Back home, Dad was disappointed that I had not found some friendship with suitable young men of “our people”, but Mum said it was OK that I was taking it slowly. He asked did they have the society meetings entirely in “our language” and I said no. (And I thought “your language” maybe. Mine is English.)

In the summer, I was introduced to a nice young man who came to our house in a suit, and sat very stiffly, accompanied by his father. Afterwards Mum apologised. Dad was very old-fashioned, she said, but he means well. Then we had a little chat.

“You really can kiss boys, you know. And they don’t have to all be the ones Dad would approve of. Just be careful how far you go, and if you do, please wear protection.”

I wished I could tell her, but instead went off to my bedroom for a really good orgasm, thinking about cocks! If only she knew! On the other hand, I was only doing what my mother said, like a good daughter, and keeping myself pure. Except I wasn’t so keen on the pure bit.

The summer was really boring. A holiday meant going to see Aunties and Uncles. The way Dad spoke about me going to university, you would have thought I was already a professor at Oxford. His enquiries about young men who were distant relatives were unsubtle at best, and I cringed when he learned that one of them was studying law.

Back at university at last, Alison, Becky and me were in a shared flat, with our own bedrooms. Each had a washbasin, and there was a bath and a shower, so we were just about able to manage. We were still virgins, but Alison and Becky had kissed some boys and even given a handjob to someone they actually knew and liked. (Becky 1, Alison 3.) We said we were definitely going to lose our virginity this year, but there was no hurry, as there would be plenty of new cocks to play with. The main thing was not to do it with anyone who knew us at home.

I had forgotten Intro Week, so it was good (I suppose) that the Student Union reminded me. As Officers we had to sit at a table to encourage freshers to join. We were in a dark corner with an embarrassingly bad sign above us, but got a surprising number of enquiries. I suppose 3 girls might have had something to do with it, but we had both girls and boys (some OK looking ones, as well) asking. We had been told by the old committee not to express our own SF preferences (which was easy, because we didn’t have any) but say we welcomed all interest in science fiction and fantasy and were a lively and diverse group (which was, of course, a lie). Alison realised how to play it. When someone asked if we were interested in some author we had never heard of (which was most of them) she would beam and say “Oh yes, of course!” if he looked OK, or frown and say “Not really, but we welcome all sorts,” if he was repulsive or smelled.

The Students’ Union contacted us to congratulate us on our recruitment drive, and suggested we change our room bookings to some larger ones.

The first meeting was terrifying. I was glad I wasn’t Alison, but I still had to sit at the front along with Becky. It turned out to be nearly a hundred people, mostly first years, with the remnants of last year. Fortunately, the past president Derek was there to help and had written some things for Alison to say.

“As we have so, many members this year, we’d like to see what sort of mixture you are. Could you raise your hand, please if you are mainly Fantasy fans?” There were maybe a fifth.

“And how many of you like SF films?” A lot of hands went up.

Derek stood up “Then I’m sure you will be pleased to know that we will be showing ‘Metropolis’ and some other silent black and white SF films.” This did not meet with the joy he expected

“Plus ‘The Day the Earth Stood Still’,” which produced some smiles. “The original 1951 version, of course – full length, not the shortened TV version,” which produced some grimaces.

Things were not going well in any way.

“How many of you like Philip K Dick?” asked Alison. This produced a scattering of hands. Half of the survivors from last year, and a few from the freshers.

Derek stood up again.

“He wrote the stories for the films Blade Runner, Minority Report and Total Recall. Any more interest?” There were maybe a dozen hands more raised, somewhat tentatively.

Then Alison stood up and raised her hand.

“How many of you are left-handers, like me? The southpaws, the cack-handers?”

It was at least a dozen, with some standing up, and some cries.

Then I was surprised to see Tony stand up in the second row. I thought he had graduated.

“How many of you are LGBT and the rest, like me?” He said. “The poufs, the lezzes, the queers, the dykes, the trannies and the other perverts?”

That produced a few cheers and mainly people standing up and waving.

Becky stood up “And SF isn’t just for the boys is it? What proportion of you are female?”

We three raised canlı bahis şirketleri our hands.

“Or identify as female!” she added. “Don’t be shy girls!” It must have been about a fifth.

“I think we have demonstrated some diversity. Now what do we do about it?”

Derek stood up again.

“President, if I may?” and she indicated he should speak.

“I think this represents an opportunity. You probably don’t want to listen to more lectures in the evening (“here, here,” said someone), but it might be good to discuss things you like.”

“We could even several groups in this room with their different interests, obviously a fantasy group, and a Philip K Dick group. But mainly whatever groups you want to set up. Now we have more females, perhaps there would be interest in feminist science fiction…”

“Left hand of darkness!” someone called out. “That covers at least two groups!” Derek laughed, but I think very few in the room understood. I certainly didn’t, but it turned out to be an interesting novel.

“Well done!” he continued. “So here’s my idea. When we’ve had coffee, why don’t you move the chairs round and get in any groups you like, and just talk about things. I suggest the Fantasy group go in that corner, and others talk over coffee and make up groups as you like. If there is any group that wants to meet more, select someone as a representative to be on the committee. Becky will take your names and emails, and will contact you.”

This seemed to provoke some nods and people saying things which sounded approving.

“Now,” he went on. “There is tea, coffee and water over on the left. And one biscuit only, please!”

People started getting up.

“Wait a minute!” called Alison. “I haven’t come to the most important thing. Just give me a minute.”

Slightly reluctantly, people sat down.

“We haven’t mentioned the main purpose of student societies. They fulfil a social function…”

“SF!” called out some wit.

“You could call us the Social Function Society, but I’ve got a better idea. The main purpose of a student society is to meet other people in order to have sex with them!”

There were some gasps, and a lot of laughs.

“I think this is the opportunity to make this work well. We can start with meeting in common groups, but we want to enjoy the diversity and mix between them in future. Let’s make this the Sex Fun Society!”

Which got laughter and then applause. When it died down, she continued.

“Perhaps not in the formal meetings, please, but they would be a good place to make arrangements for what happens afterwards. Perhaps immediately afterwards.”

It was getting hard to hear her over the happy hubbub which was arising.

She stood up and raised her hands, and Derek called out “Quiet, please!”

“Now really important. The University wants us all to practise safe sex.”

It was quiet and whoever the wit was called out “Safe Fucking Society!” which provoked more laughter and comments.

“Very good. But I will remind you there is more to sex than fucking, as a diverse and creative group like this must know. So let me invite anyone who wishes to join the Erotic Possibilities discussion group. Hands up!” They all went up.

“Finally, I would like to meet all the female members in the little room next door, once you’ve got your coffee for a quick word, before you join any other discussion groups. It is on the topic of safe sex, so please only biological females, and whatever orientation. I am sure if we have a women’s group then those who self-identify will be welcome, and obviously anyone can join a feminist group.”

“Right, the Treasurer tells me you’re entitled to three biscuits each, but don’t hog the Bourbon creams!”

(That had been my only real action as Treasurer, to argue with the SU treasurer. Not much of an achievement, but I was pleased when someone called out “hooray!”)

CHAPTER 5

With our drinks and biscuits we went into the room next door, where Alison whispered to Becky and me “Listen, I’m winging this. Help me if you can, but I thought the handjob club could go again!”

We looked at each other and I think we had the same thought: wow!

There were 15 girls apart from us.

Alison, for once appeared a bit stuck, so Becky spoke up.

“Can I ask if any of you are lesbians?” They looked at each other, frowning.

“I am,” said a short-haired girl rather truculently. “What of it?”

“And me,” said another rather quietly. They looked at each other and smiled.

“Well, it’s just that I’ve been thinking it might be nice to try some girl on girl, and you could perhaps give some advice. I don’t want to join the LGBT+ society, but I thought maybe I might meet someone just you know…”

“I’m the same,” volunteered another. “I mean, just thinking about it,” as she blushed and looked down.

Alison picked up the feed.

“Well it certainly is safe sex, and there would be no harm in people exploring their options. Just discreetly. canlı kaçak iddaa All by mutual consent, and privately of course. This is one of the ways in which we can help each other.”

Another girl was blushing, as she stood up. Her voice was a little strained.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can stay. It’s not compatible with my religious beliefs. Thank you for the biscuits.” She held out her hand to the girl beside her. “Ginny? Are you coming?”

“I’ll stay for a bit,” came the answer. “See you on Sunday.”

One down, but so far so good.

Alison came to her main pitch.

“Now another form of safe sex is the handjob,” at which a couple of people frowned: obviously not pleased with the direction this was taking, but a redhead said “at last”.

“Do you all know what that is?”

No-one said anything, but Ginny tentatively put up her hand, and said “I don’t.”

“Well,” continued Alison, “it is where you massage a man’s penis until he ejaculates. Also called tossing him off.”

“Oh,” said Ginny, “so that’s what he wants! So that’s not really sex then?”

Alison looked at us, then turned to her kindly.

“If you mean, like no sexual intercourse before marriage, it’s not sexual intercourse.”

Ginny brightened up.

“But it is a way that men demean women,” interrupted another girl. “Women are the servants to satisfy men, to serve their sexual needs. We only do it because we have to, at our master’s command, to stay in his favour.” She sat back, satisfied with her point, as did a couple of others.

Alison spoke carefully.

“Actually, it can be very empowering for a woman,” which produced a couple of snorts of derision, “if there’s no relationship involved, and it is only done to please her.”

No-one said anything, but their expressions changed and the redhead leaned forward.

Alison then explained what we had done, and the talking started.

“So it’s a bit like training?” said Ginny. “Learning how to do it?”

“Yes,” said Becky. “But it was so good I wanted to do it again, but didn’t want to have to pretend to like a boy and kiss and such. And now I’ve seen quite a few cocks in action!”

There were a couple of intakes of breath.

The girl who had talked about demeaning women smiled.

“So it’s just about using a man as a sex object? Reducing him to nothing but his cock? Not caring about his personality and going to another man without a thought? Perhaps it can be OK.”

“This is why I joined the SF group,” said the redhead. “There’s a rumour that you had some kind of handjob rota, and I thought it’s certainly one way to meet boys and find out what they’re made of!”

There were some laughs and two other girls said they had joined for the same reason.

“Well I’m sorry it got out,” said Alison. “It was all supposed to be secret. There’s no rota, we just wanked as many boys as we could but only once. They were supposed to think they were the only one.”

This produced some laughs and we told them how many we had done. Which produced some words of surprise in unladylike language.

“I’m not trying to get you to do anything…” She looked towards the lesbians.

“No, count me in,” said the short-haired one. “I don’t want a man doing anything to me, but it sounds really kinky, so I’d like to have a go!”

“And of course, if any of you have steady boyfriends,” continued Alison, but she was interrupted.

“I’ve got a boyfriend, but I still want in. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Maybe I’ll learn something.”

At the end exactly half of the girls were definitely up for it and the other half said they wouldn’t say anything. We were asked to describe how the cocks varied, which we did, and two more said they were in.

“Will one of you be the one to show us?” asked Ginny, and another girl said she was happy to lead off as she was experienced, at which point the one with the boyfriend also volunteered. So that was five of us to be group leaders, as it were, and seven others eager to participate.

Becky checked she had their names and emails and said she would get in touch.

Alison suggested we spread ourselves around the other groups and look for likely targets. As we went back to the main room two girls hung back to speak to the lesbians.

CHAPTER 6

As soon as we got back there were many people trying to get our attention. Alison was first grabbed by a man from the left-handers group. Though we never found out anything about left-handed science fiction, they had taken the suggestion literally and formed a group of ten, which actually worked out well through the year. (H. G. Wells and Lewis Carroll were left-handed, though.) They called themselves the Sinister Society.

I was grabbed by Aragorn, who ushered me to the corridor, where it was quieter.

“Well,” he said, “the news about the Fantasy group is that it is three factions arguing with each other: the Tolkien, the Pratchett and the Moorcock groups. Which is actually quite lively. I think it’s going to canlı kaçak bahis work well.” I must have looked puzzled, because he said “Michael Moorcock. Elric?”

“Sorry, I know you don’t really know anything about this stuff, you only joined to get at cocks. You certainly fooled me and most of the others, but it was good, and if there are any freshers who want the same, our cocks are at your disposal, my lady.”

He gave a bow.

They had obviously talked, boasted probably. Well, that would make it easier to start. I had an idea.

“Do you think you could make discreet enquiries and suggest any new members who might also like a handjob, on the same terms? Just to keep the process going.”

“OK,” he said. “Strider will roam the land on his mission…”

“Not now,” I interrupted him. “By the way, have you got a steady girlfriend yet?”

“Alas, there is only one for me, my true love, the lady Éowyn, who is far away in Rohan.” As he started to recite some Elvish poetry (I suppose) I left him and went back into the room.

No sooner had I done so than Tony ushered me out of the room again.

“The gay group is great,” he said. “There’s several who aren’t committed LGBT fanatics so not in the society, but like SF and fantasy, and we sort of get on. By the way, I’m here because the department offered me a scholarship to do a master’s. Oh yes, Peter sends his love. He’s on clinical practice for a few weeks, so won’t be around.”

He looked around and then said quietly “If you’re starting to pull cocks again, I can probably find you some from the newbies. Maybe mine too, now my boyfriend’s gone.”

I realised I was blushing. What the hell had we started?

Back in, I was surrounded by four I remembered from last year. “We’re the Philip K. Dick group,” said a big bearded one, some kind of engineer, I seemed to remember.

“Oh hello, Mike,” I said, thinking of his mushroom-shaped cock.

“It’s Mark,” he corrected me, “but can we speak to you outside?”

Again I was shuffled into the corridor.

“I thought there were more of you,” I said.

“Yes, there are more who like the films, but they’re in the film group, and I think others are in other groups, but we think that’s an advantage. Look, could we go into that empty room and tell you what we think?”

We sat down and he began.

“Lekha, you have wanked off every one of us! And probably half the others. Pretending you were such an innocent girl”

“But I was,” I protested. “I’d never so much as seen a cock till I came to university and Alison started it.”

“I told you so,” said one to the others with a satisfied grin. “She was innocent. That’s why she was so good, and why I nominated her!”

“But Alison was good, wasn’t she?” said another. “She knew what she was doing, all right.”

“Back to business,” said Mike, sorry Mark. “We reckoned you girls had some kind of what you might call a handjob club, and you seem to be doing it again, but on a bigger scale. As we see it, each girl gets to wank a man once only, is that right?”

I nodded, dumbstruck.

“So you won’t be wanting us again, although we’d all like you if you did.”

I shook my head.

“But you might be recruiting some new girls who could try us, and some new cocks from the freshers?”

I nodded.

“So here’s our suggestion. Instead of the handjob club, why not the Dick Appreciation Group, as in the Philip K. Dick Appreciation Group? It would be a sort of code for making arrangements. People could join it and you would arrange whatever rota you want.”

I was stunned, but managed to say “That’s a good idea. I’ll mention it to Alison.”

He gave me a piece of paper, and stood up.

“Here are our names and emails. We’ll know what you girls are talking about when you send emails about Philip K. Dick.”

I went back into the room where Derek was talking enthusiastically to Alison and Becky. As soon as they saw me, they rushed over and again we went out into the corridor and the room next door.

“I’ll start again, for Lekha’s sake,” he began. “You girls have done a brilliant job! I am just amazed! You’ve recruited so many and the groups are really working, although I was sorry to see so few in the Phil Dick group. This is really top management stuff, empowering people to run their own work groups, and I think the society’s going to become really active!”

“Lekha, just offering three biscuits changed the coffee break from mean to friendly! And Alison, you broke the ice with calling for the left-handers. Becky got the girls interested. And Alison, the last bit was a stroke of genius. Of course, a social function is really what the societies are there for, and calling us the Sex Fun society was a brilliant joke!”

He then made some suggestions and remarked it was a shame that he and Bernice had not been able to work better.

“But weren’t you a couple?” asked Alison.

“Perish the thought!” he said. “I don’t think that bossy boots could partner with anyone. I’m happy with my fiancée. She would be perfect if only she liked SF. Er, Science Fiction, that is.” He went a bit red, and we thanked him very much for his suggestions and support.

He left and I told the others about what Mark had said, and gave Becky the list.

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