It was late on a Friday night, and I was sitting in my room in college, trying to get to grips with my latest creative writing assignment. We had to write a narrative using a regional dialect, either from within the UK or (in deference to the many foreign students who hadn’t been further out of London than the first-year lit trip to Stratford-upon-Avon) another English-speaking nation.

According to my friend Sally, who’d done the option last year, this tended to lead to a lot of bad attempts at Australian dialect based on the students’ daily dose of “Neighbours” or “Home and Away”, which are hardly authentic in my view. I wasn’t particularly enjoying it, since this sort of writing usually comes across as terribly self-conscious and artificial, and I wasn’t finding it at all easy (which I suppose made it a good subject for an assignment – no point in making it too much of a doddle). I was trying to do a Geordie piece, based around a Saturday night in the Bigg Market area in Newcastle. Lots of scope for some interesting dialect there.

But I was determined to get it done. I got undressed, so I was just wearing my long t-shirt and some panties underneath, which meant if I got tempted to go out I’d be put off by the need to get dressed again. Clever, eh? So I stuck at it all evening, and was starting to make some real progress, when there was a knock on the door. I looked at the clock. It was after half-past ten.

“Annie? Annie? Are you there? It’s Louise.”

No Louise, I’m not coming down to the bar with you. It’s almost closing time and I told you I had work to do tonight.

Thump, thump, rattle, rattle (but the door’s on the latch precisely to keep people out, so she can’t just barge in like she usually does).

“Annie? Annie? You haven’t gone out, have you?”

If I keep quiet will she go away?

Thump, thump again, a bit harder this time.

“Annie, please, I know you’re there. I promise I won’t keep you long. I just need to ask you something.”

Hey ho, what are friends for after all. I decided I’d better see what she wanted.

“Coming!” I shouted, and unlatched the door. And there she was, my friend Louise from down the corridor. She was wearing a short skirt, a baggy t-shirt, and had obviously come from the bar. All right for some.

“Hello, Annie. Can I come in?”

How about trying, “Sorry I’ve disturbed you, I know it’s late”?

I sighed. “Ok, Lou, come in. But I’m a bit busy.”

“Oh, hell, Annie, I’m sorry, but it’s all such a pain.”

She kicked off her shoes and plonked herself down in my armchair, flopping her right leg over the arm.

“Make yourself at home, Lou,” I said. I don’t think she spotted the sarcasm.

This did rather give me a clear view up her shortish skirt. I could see she had on a pretty brief pair of scarlet panties. She does have a great pair of legs, does Louise, lovely smooth thighs that just ache to be kissed. Behave yourself, Annie. Lou’s not that way inclined.

She looked around my room, as if she was casing the joint. “Got any booze, Annie?” she said.

“Nothing you’d fancy, Lou,” I said. Dear old Louise, she’s a bit of a Bacardi Breezer girl, which I wouldn’t give house room to. Give me a nice glass of wine any day. Trouble was, I knew there were a couple of bottles of rather nice Chilean red under the table, left over from a party the other weekend.

“Don’t mind,” she said, “Any old port in a storm?”

“Sorry, I’ve not got any port,” I said, and she looked at me in a puzzled way. I really don’t think she got the joke. But I couldn’t help glancing at the stuff under the table, wondering if it was on view, and her eyes followed mine.

“Vino!” she said “I spy vino! That’ll do, Annie, yes please.”

I suppose she’d already had enough alcohol, but I decided I’d better listen to her latest bad-luck story before bundling her off to bed to sleep it off. So I opened a bottle, got out one of my smaller glasses, and poured her one (plus one for myself: I’d probably need it).

“Cheers,” said Louise, and took a good swig. Bit of a waste of my good Cabernet Sauvignon, but there you go. She swung her leg back and forth, making her skirt ride up even further.

Those are very nice little panties, though. Naughty Annie, have a drink instead.

I won’t bore you with the details, but it seemed that her latest boy-friend, Sharouz (I think I got that right; I’ve an idea it’s Iranian), had been spotted snogging some guy from his Spanish course in the bar that night. Obviously, this had got Louise more than a little bit upset, and while her friends had stopped her from confronting him, she’d stormed off in that lofty vehicle, high dudgeon (thanks to Flann O’Brien for that one), and come round to bother me.

Now, I suppose I should admit right now that I probably shouldn’t have done what I did next, but the sight of Louise’s thighs and panties had got me a bit turned on. I really wouldn’t normally take advantage of someone when they’ve had a bit to drink, but it all worked out okay in the end, so I’ll not go there. Sometimes moral mazes are best kept on Radio Four.

“Hey, Lou, better you found out now,” I said. “Even if he is bi, the rules are still the same – one guy or gal at a time.”

“Unless you’re having a threesome,” said Louise.

This was a good sign; she was starting to get her sense of humour back.

“That’s blokes for you,” I said. “Here, have another drink.”

And I got up with the bottle and went over to top her up. As I did so, I put my hand on her bare knee and gave it a friendly squeeze, in a comforting sort of way. Yeah, Annie, you’re fooling no-one.

She smiled at me. As if by accident (whoops!), my hand slid higher up her thigh, and I gave it a little rub.

“You’ll get over it,” I said. “Plenty more where he came from.”

“I’m fed up with men,” she moped. “You’ve got the right idea, Annie.”

“Oh, I like men,” I said, “I just like women too.”

Oh dear, my hand was still on her thigh.

“I think I could like women too, Annie, if I just had the right one.”

She put her hand on my arm, as if to stop me pulling my hand away. She pushed it further up her inner thigh. OK, Louise, you took the initiative there. I gently rubbed the sensitive skin.

“Are you sure about this, Lou? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Oh yes, Annie, it’s not just the drink, honest. I don’t mind at all. I really want you to.”

“I really want you too, Louise, you’re really lovely, and I’d have done this before if I’d thought you were interested.”

“I’m glad you’re doing it now, Annie.”

“Just one thing, Lou, if you change your mind, I promise I’ll stop.”

“I don’t think I will.”

“Just stay where you are then,” I smiled.

I stood behind her in the chair, and began to massage her shoulders. She was a bit tense at first, probably because she hadn’t meant any of this to happen, and was still trying to come to terms with it. I started by rubbing my hands over her shoulders on top of her shirt, but when the time seemed right I edged them under the material and got to work on her bare skin. She sighed.

“Mmm, that’s nice, Annie, I’m feeling more relaxed already.”

I let my hands descend further inside her neckline, still rubbing, down towards the top of her large breasts; luckily her top wasn’t too tight, so I wasn’t too restricted. I ran my hands over the outside of her bra; I could feel her nipples starting to get hard.

“Would you like me to take my top off, Annie?”

“Yes, I think that would be a good idea.”

I took my hands out and she quickly slipped her top over her head, so she was sitting there in just her bra. She glanced at me, and was about to start fiddling with the catch to take it off, but I stopped her.

“Steady, Lou, not yet.”

I massaged her shoulders again. I was hoping this would prolong the anticipation and get her more excited, and it seemed to be working. Her hand was resting in her lap, and I saw her start to rub over her public mound, feeling for where her clitoris would be. Mmm, that’s it Louise, soon be there.

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, I allowed my hands to slide the straps of her bra off her shoulders. They slid down her upper arms, coming to rest by her elbows. The cups now hung loosely over her lovely bulging titties.

I could feel myself starting to get wet as I gazed down from above at her deep cleavage, the dark shadow disappearing between her breasts. I let my hands slip under the front of her bra, and she sighed with pleasure. My fingers found her nipples and played with them gently for a while. I slid my hands further down, and nudged the bra itself further down over her boobs. By getting my hands under the bottom of her boobs, I managed to push the bra right off, down over her stomach. Now I let her reach round and release it, dropping it onto the floor.

“You’ve got lovely breasts, Lou,” I said, “They’re so much bigger than mine.”

“I want to see yours too, Annie.”

That was easy, but it would mean I was suddenly much more naked than her, since all I had on was an extra-long shirt and my panties.

“I’d like that, Lou.”

She got up out of the chair, and turned to me. I smiled at her, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off her firm, beautifully rounded tits. Even without the bra, they hardly sagged at all. Sagged isn’t even the word I want, but I’m getting wet between my legs typing this, so it’ll have to do. I want to get on.

Louise reached over and pulled up my long shirt over my head. Now my own little titties were bare, and I was standing there in just my black panties.

“Oh, Annie…”

She quickly undid her belt, and let her short skirt fall round her ankles. I could see the wet patch round the crotch of her red panties. If mine hadn’t been black, she’d have seen the same on me.

We kissed. I could taste the red wine in her mouth.

“Mmm, Louise.”

We put our arms round each other and our bodies pressed together. I could feel her big firm boobs against my little ones, our nipples rubbing against each other. If hers were hard, I reckon mine were harder. They do stick out a lot when I’m aroused.

I edged her over to the bed, and we fell onto it, still kissing. I pushed her onto her back, where she lay with her arms above her head, flattening her breasts slightly. She was breathing quite heavily, and they moved up and down. I leant over and took her right nipple in my mouth, cupping her breast in my hand and jiggling it up and down.

“Ooo, Annie, it’s lovely when you suck my nipple like that.”

I licked round her dark aureole. She reached down over my back and slipped her hand inside my panties and over my bottom.

“You’ve got a lovely arse, Annie.”

And she gripped my soft flesh and squeezed hard, before pushing her hand between the cleft of my buttocks. She found the little tight entrance to my arsehole, and slipped her finger inside.

Oh, I love it when someone does that. I could feel her finger wriggling around in my hole and I responded by grabbing her breast and squeezing hard. If she wanted to get rough…

“Oh yes Annie; that hurts; do it more.”

Hmm, is she into pain? Not sure I am though, at least not much. Let’s hold off a bit.

I released her boob, leaving a red mark where I had gripped it. Instead, I reached down and tugged at her panties. Time to get them off. I wanted to see her pussy.

Louise helpful raised her backside and off they came. She was obviously happy for me to take the lead, which was fine by me. Shamelessly, she spread her legs wide.

And oh, what a lovely little pussy she had. Yum yum. Her outer labia projected just a little way out from her slit, all of it a beautiful shade of pink. I caught a delicate aroma of sexual juices.

“Do you think it’s nice, Annie?”

“Oh, yes, Lou, it’s one of the nicest I’ve seen.”

I buried my head between her thighs and got to work with my tongue, using all the tricks I knew to get her going; sucking her labia into my mouth, nibbling at her clitoris (she really seemed to like that), and inserting my tongue as far as I could up inside her vagina. And she was loving it, wiggling around like nobody’s business. Ok, time to get serious. Quick as I could, I reached to the bedside table and grabbed my dildo. It’s a big pink cock-shaped one, and I can frig myself for hours with it when I’m feeling horny. I don’t think Louise realised what I was doing until she felt something different nudging at the entrance to her vagina. She looked down and smiled.

“Ooo, Annie, that’s a big one.”

“Do you want it, Lou? Or shall I put it back?”

“I want it, Annie. Oh yes, I want it. Stick it in me, Annie. Quick, quick!”

“Whatever you say, Lou.”

I rubbed it against her slit to lubricate it, although she was so wet I didn’t really need to. I pressed the big bulbous head against her wet little hole, then pushed it gently forward. Her little labia parted to take it in. I pushed it deep up inside her (she squealed with pleasure as she felt her vaginal walls expand to take it all) and began to pump it in and out. She frigged away at her clit, faster and faster, her breath coming in short gasps in time to her frigging.

I was actually a bit taken aback by how wild she was getting. I hoped no-one was listening next door. This really wouldn’t be the best time for someone to tell us to shut the f*** up. She was really getting carried away. The old bed was rocking.

“Ooo, Annie, I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m going to come, oh, Annie. Quick, Annie, take it out, take it out.”

I thought I’d better do as she said, and pulled out the dildo.

Louise came.

And you know what, she was a squirter.

A great gush of liquid shot out of her vagina like a bloody hose-pipe, off the end of my bed and all over the carpet. Two, three, four more great gushes of liquid all over the bed. Where in God’s name was it all coming from? And she was shaking and squealing, arching her crotch into the air as all this liquid squirted out. As it subsided, she was still shaking uncontrollably all over, her whole body glowing with perspiration. I actually was a bit worried she’d injured herself, so violent had been her reaction.

I leant over and took her in my arms, hugging her tight, feeling her shaking subsiding as we clung together.

“Oh Annie, Annie, hold me please…thank you…thank you…”

“My God, Lou, I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

I’d seen it on the internet on some porn site, so I knew it was something that could happen with some women. But never for real, and certainly never with dear little Lou.

“Oh Annie, I’ve never come quite as much as that before, and I can usually only do it when I’m frigging myself with my own dildo. By myself, I know how to build up to it, get myself to the limit, then let it all out. But oh Annie, never as much as that.”

“Lou, it was amazing.”

“And you know, it never happens when a man’s fucking me. They come, and then that’s it. Sometimes I have an ordinary orgasm, and that’s nice too, but a squirter is special just for me. Until now, Annie. Now it’s for you too.”

I hugged her again.

“I don’t come like that, Lou. But I want you to make me come now, please. Will you do that for me?”

“Oh Annie, yes. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

And I did.