Hoff and Hols, a Romance Ch. 05

Fergie had, of course, been right. Schooldays may have ended, but the saga of Hoff and Hols had not.

We Skyped excitedly the day the A-level results came out. AK was happy with her set of Bs, which were more than she needed for the Police. My set of four A* satisfied my need to excel at something, and put me in good favour with the College which awarded me a scholarship on the back of them. With that, and the prize money from St Guthlac's, plus a bursary from one of the Church charities supporting the daughters of clergymen, I found myself quite comfortable. My Papa was beside himself with pride, and even Mama acknowledged I had done something worthwhile.

The next I heard from AK she was on holiday in the Balearics, having, by the look of it a fine old time before she started her eighteen-month training programme. And me, well I did some work for Papa in the parish, and worked with the parish youth team. It was a good way to pass the time, but I was surer than ever that I did not want to take the famous "gap" year.

AK sent me some sexy texts of her in her new uniform - which somehow managed to do the impossible, add sexiness to her - the flash of her stocking tops she sent me certainly added to the allure. I did not think that the one of me in my matriculation cap and gown quite reciprocated - but since she said I looked like a cross between Batman and a mushroom, it may have served another purpose. Our texts and photos kept us in touch, and being me, I managed to write to her, though as AK confessed in the odd postcard, she was not one for writing - she preferred doing.

My college was not one of the more fashionable ones, tucked away behind St Ebb's church in a quiet side street, but it suited my needs. Within a few weeks I realised I wanted to change my degree. Much as I had loved English Literature at school, what we were being offered here was more like linguistic philosophy. My tutors were wonderfully helpful and understanding, and I was transferred to Theology swiftly and painlessly. From my first tutorial I knew I had been right.

For someone from a Boarding School background, Coll, as we called it, was no great problem! I had my own room with ensuite facilities, but that apart, everything else was familiar: Refectory; Chapel; the companionship of a small group. The greatest difference for me was the presence of boys, but as none of them took any interest in me, that was no great inconvenience.

I made my number with the Chaplain, Mother Emma, as she liked to be called. She was once of the few female College chaplains then, and an inspiration to those of us who were discerning our vocations. It was Emma I saw when I realised I had chosen the wrong subject.

We had a chat, long into the night, and her kindness and help were material in shaping my future. Before long I was helping in the chapel, and working with her and others on what we called, jokingly, the Saturday night "knickers run."

Like any other city with young people and clubs, Saturday night/Sunday morning could offer scenes over which Sodom and Gomorrah might well have cast an envious eye. I never ceased to marvel at the bravery of some of my contemporaries in terms of their willingness to bare all, or almost all, in the quest for boys. We offered a ministry of service, being there to help anyone too drunk or incapable of helping herself. I like to think we saved many from getting themselves into a mess. It was there I met Chloe.

It was a cold Saturday night in early November. Cold enough for me to have donned woolly tights, several layers, and my Barbour. Lisa, one of my friends from the Christian Union and I were patrolling the Turl when we came across an altercation. Three boys seemed to be harassing a rather pretty but very drunk blonde. She suddenly slipped to the floor, legs splayed, displaying a very fetching white G-string to the observant young men. They seemed to be moving in on their prey. Lisa advised giving it a miss, they would, she said, help her. I was having none of that.

Moving over, in my hi-vis vest with "Mission volunteer" on it, I intervened.

"Come on boys, this one is too drunk to consent, you really don't want to go here."

The tallest of them a good foot taller than met looked at me arrogantly.

"And if we do."

Flashing my beeper at him, I said:

"I beep for the police, and you can explain it to them!"

"Fuck you!" He snarled.

"Not that anyone would," one of his charming friends said.

Lisa came over the help, and the decided things. They left.

I squatted down next to the blonde.

"You okay? I'm Pixie, can we help?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah Chloe, thanks. Where the fuck am I?"

"Come with us."

Lisa and I helped her to her feet and took her to the mobile unit to get checked out. The medics confirmed someone had slipped something in her drink. I said I'd sit with her until she felt better, and then make sure she got back to college. We established that she was at Christ Church, which was a long stone's throw from my place.

Several cups of strong coffee and a cake later, Chloe began to come round a little, but she was still woozy when I delivered her back to college. She thanked me.

"Give us your number, Pixie, I want say thanks properly when I am less out of it."

I did, and she did.

We agreed to meet for coffee just off the High.

It is amazing the difference not being drunk and dressed to thrill makes, I thought, as Chloe came in, smiling. In her stylish dark jacket, mid-thigh skirt and sweater, her long blonde hair in a fetching ponytail, she looked so beautiful. She reminded me of someone. There was a touch of the Hols about her, but it was someone else, someone I knew, but I could not put my finger on it.

We ordered cappuccinos and a croissants, and sat by the window, watching the world go by.

"I just wanted to have a chance to do two things, Pixie: to thank you for saving me the other night, and to say I don't usually do that."

I smiled and said that I would not judge if she did, she was young, beautiful and Oxford was an exciting place. She smiled back:

"That's sweet of you. What are you reading?"

"This is where you roll your eyes, Chloe, so don't worry, I won't be offended. Theology!"

She did indeed roll her eyes.

"Really, gosh! I'm doing PPE."

"I think I could sort of tell," I giggled.

"Oh, and how's that?" She asked.

"I think most of the most gorgeous girls in Coll are doing politics, philosophy and economics. They all want to be special advisers to MPs or something in politics. You?"

"Gosh, you are acute, as well as cute," she laughed. "Yes, I did two parliamentary internships in my year out, and have joined the Union. In fact the reason I was so pissed is that I had just had some bad news and went out on a bender as a result."

I could see the pain in her face.

"Why? Oh and thanks for the compliment."

Her smile could have charmed the wildest beast.

"You are welcome. My long-term boyfriend just announced he's dumping me. So I went out with some lads from the Union, and it was one of them, I am sure, who drugged my drink. God knows what would have happened if you had not intervened."

"Oh," I said, "I think we know what would have happened. I am glad we saved you from that - but sorry about your boyfriend."

At that moment my phone pinged.

"Hey, Squirt, am coming your gaff Friday, okay if I come see you? xxx AK"

"Urgent?" Chloe asked, clearly impressed by the way I grabbed the phone so quickly.

"An old school friend wants to visit this week-end."

"Boy friend?" She asked.

I had determined that while I would never thrust my sexuality in the face of others, nor would I hide it. I had avoided the LGBTI+ Soc because, well just because. Most of its members were too in my face - well not literally, but you know what I mean. I did not want to be defined by my sexuality, but I would never deny it.

"No, girlfriend," I smiled, "I'm gay."

Chloe smiled.

"Never tried girls, but sort of wondered from time to time."

"Well at St Guthlac's it was not too hard."

"You were at Guth's?"

"Yes, you?"

"I was at Ascot, but my twin brother, Crispin was at St Edmund's."

That was it, it hit me like a lightning bolt.

"I see the resemblance." I just blurted it out.

"You know Crispin?"

"Met him."

"Well Pixie, he's coming here this weekend with his girlfriend, she was at Guth's, do you know her? AK?"

I had, by this stage gone into shock.

"You okay, Pixie?"

I showed her my text.

"Golly, you mean that AK and you were an item? How intriguing. I have always thought that she'd be worth being lesbian for. Is she?"

I was now thoroughly flustered.

Of all the women in Oxford I could have rescued, I had stumbled across Crispin's twin sister, and she fancied AK. She looked at me and her mouth opened.

"You are Hoff, aren't you?"

"Guilty as charged," I responded.

"Oh how lovely! AK talks about you a lot. Yes, she and Cris are staying with friends in Headington - we can all get together!"

We had a chat for another hour, which morphed into lunch, and then she had to go for a lecture. We arranged to meet for a drink later.

I couldn't wait to tell Hols - so I didn't. Texting to see if she was free, and getting the answer I needed, I rang.

"Hi Squirt. How's the Brain-Box?"

"You didn't say you were coming down with Cris."

"I am fine, thanks for not asking, and how are you? And how did you know?"

"Sorry, AK, I am good and hope you are. You simply will not believe who I have just had lunch with!"

"In that case, Pix, you better enlighten me."

"Chole, Cris's twin sister."

"What, the gorgeous pouting Chloe!"

"None other."

"How the fuck do you know her, Squirt, I'd not taken you for a Union Hackett?"

I explained the background.

"Fuck, Pix, you are a star! Yeah, Cris said her bastard boyfriend had chucked her for some slag. Look, we are staying out at Headington."

"I know, and I have an invite from Chloe, with whom I am having a drink later."

"Lucky her."

We chatted about her training programme, which she was enjoying, and about her and Cris, which was, I was pleased to hear, going well. I had overcome my jealousy and wanted only that she should be happy. The thought of seeing her brightened the rest of that week.

Chloe and I got on well over drinks, and we arranged transport for Friday night out to Headington.

Emma, the Chaplain and my tutor that term, could see a change, and after the evening service asked me what had happened to cheer me up.

"Am I usually miserable Emma?"

"No, bless you, but sometimes I sense a sadness there. I am happy to see it alleviated."

I explained to her about Chloe, and that led to my spilling the beans about Hoff and Hols. I had rather expected to get something of a telling off, but instead she put her hand on my wrist and looked at me with real understanding.

"Pixie, you can't help the way you feel. That is how God made you. The Church will catch up one day. I suspect, from what I have seen, you have sinned a good deal less in the sexual license department than many others. Can I ask a personal question?"

I felt a warm sense of relief surge through me, and assured her she could.

"When was the last time you had sex?"

Golly, she did not mince words, and I felt my face flush.

"My last evening at school back in June."

"Well, there you are, Pixie. All those people going on about being gay being sinful, somehow forget to mention that all sex before marriage is frowned upon. Tell you what, let me give you some reading to do on the whole 'same-sex' issue. Can I ask you a final personal question? At least for now?"

I nodded.

"What do you want to do when you graduate?"

"Ideally, Emma, I'd like either to be an academic or go into the Church, but my sexuality rather precludes the latter."

Emma looked benignly at me.

"You think, do you?"

"I do, Emma."

"Well, tell you what Pixie, on Sunday after Communion, why don't you come back to mine for lunch?"

I accepted. Golly, I thought, suddenly I was quite the social butterfly.

I usually finished my weekly essays by Friday evening, and this time, with a bit of extra effort, had them done by lunchtime.

Chloe had suggested lunch at her college, which turned out to be rather better than the fare offered at mine. We chatted about what to wear, and she suggested casual smart, a phrase which always puzzled me. But when I turned up for the cab at hers in my blue pinafore dress, she nodded her approval.

"Perfect!"

She looked stunning, as always, in a green version of the classic little black dress.

AK had texted me when she arrived and told me she was looking forward to seeing me. I felt apprehensive, so openly so that Chloe gave my hand a squeeze when the taxi dropped us off.

"It'll be fine!"

The moment I set eyes on AK it felt different, fine, yes, but not fine.

She grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"Squirt, you doll up well, as ever. Hi Chloe, fancy you meeting Pix! Of all the women outside all of the bars and you meet my beloved! Cris, you remember Pixie?"

And into full view hove my nemesis, Crispin. Tall, fit, broad shouldered, intelligent, rich, amusing, and witty, what was not (from my point of view) to hate? He gave me that grin of his which, I had been told by others, loosened knicker elastic at twenty paces; mine were more resilient. Still, to be fair, he was nice.

"Pixie, can I just say thanks for taking care of my sis - you are a star!"

That was kind of him, and I thanked him.

The dinner was one of those buffet affairs with what seemed to be a cast of dozens, all balancing plates on one's knees or the nearest available space, while hazardously balancing a glass of alcohol in the other. It turned out that Cris's cousin, Ned, was at Oxford, and it was his birthday - hence the do.

AK and I managed, by dessert, to find a corner to catch up.

I had watched her. She was always my social facilitator, without her I was too shy to be much use on occasions like this, but her mere presence helped me. It was, I reflected later, strangely familiar, and yet unfamiliar. Familiar because I was with her, unfamiliar because the previous few months had put some distance between us. If University had about it some of the familiarity of the school experience, AK's work lacked that; it was as though she had taken some decisive steps into adult life which I had yet to take.

"You and Cris seem happy, darling," I said, rather obviously.

"I am glad you see it my love, you know that though I love my Hoff dearly, I am most definitely a cock girl."

"I take it your virginity is a thing of the past?"

"Fuck yes," and she gave me the gory detail.

"What do you make of Chloe?" AK asked, changing the topic.

"I like her. It was odd, when I first saw her, she reminded me of you, but not just in appearance. It was only when I found she was Cris's sister that it hit me, she looks so like him."

"Yes, I did notice," AK said with what I knew was a rather naughty smile.

"You don't...?" I said, realising suddenly what it meant.

"Oh but I do, think how hot that would be!"

Then we got engulfed by the party, but as numbers began to thin out, I looked for Chloe, who, it turned out, was looking for me.

"Oh Pixie, thank goodness! Cris is legless, will you help AK and I get him to his room?"

Between us we managed to get Cris to where he needed to be.

AK and Chloe were, as I was, quite out of breath.

"Tell you what," I said, "let me grab us a drink and I'll be back."

I did, leaving them to put him to bed.

I got myself some mineral water. I was no great shakes with alcohol, apart from anything else, there was not enough of me for it to go round! I got a glass of red wine of AK and Chloe. It was beginning to look as though our hosts had also gone to bed, so I did a bit of tidying - habit - and then went upstairs.

I walked in - to find AK sucking on Chloe's nipples, the latter stripped down to her knickers, with AK in a similar state, with added stockings. The latter looked at me with a smile. With the thought that three (if one discounted the comatose Cris) was a crowd, I made to leave, but AK left Chloe's nipples for a moment to say:

"Stay!"

Chloe looked over at me, her face flushed, her eyes, glazed with what AK had been doing.

"I'd like you to stay Pixie!"

So, planting myself in an armchair, I stayed and watched.

Bear in mind, I thought to myself, that they were both drunk and therefore their inhibitions lower than usual (not that AK suffered much in that department anyway), but to be getting her first lesbian experience while her twin brother was asleep on the bed, seemed to me to be a kink worthy of AK.

AK pushed Chloe back, sucking on her nipples alternately, while her hand strayed down the front of her knickers, and I could see her fingers at work, much to Chloe's delight. AK looked over to me.

"Get her knickers off Pix!"

Nothing venture, nothing gain, I thought, and obliged, getting my first view of her trimmed blonde bush; yes, Chloe was a natural blonde. The sight of AK's fingers pressing into her, along with the sound of her moans and the smell of her pussy, was turning me on.

"Now mine, Pix!"

As AK moved, I helped her off with her knickers, and hands on Chloe's breasts, she plunged her face into her pussy, lapping hungrily at her. Chloe gripped AK's hair, moaning, and pressing herself onto her. That was it.

I knelt behind AK and began to lick her wetness, slurping some of her juices to lubricate her rosebud before teasing her with my tongue. Then, pushing her onto Chloe, I licked lower, using my thumb to strum her clit as two fingers found their way into her sticky hot mess of a pussy. She moaned into Chloe and pressed herself back onto me.

As she licked Chloe, I licked her, using my fingers to fuck her deep, finding her special place and treating it as she needed. AK moaned; Chloe moaned. I thought that Cris really must be well out of it to miss this.

AK was so wet, and it was so good to be back between her thighs, that I treated her arsehole to a fingering, which made her moan all the more. My fingers could feel each other through the narrow wall of skin between her two holes. Then, as Chloe came, AK gripped my fingers and did the same.

AK collapsed onto her, before rolling over to hold her. I watched. There was something indescribably erotic about watching the two of them, naked in the bed. Cris, under the covers, had not stirred.

As they both seemed to have collapsed into an exhausted sleep, there was, I thought, nothing to be done save throw a cover over them. I tidied up their clothes before going to freshen up in the bathroom. I called myself a cab, and on the way back to college, reflected it could be an interesting morning when they all woke.