Larger women are lovely and Jane was no exception

The football soared high into the air only to be followed
by a group of screaming kids sprinting across the school
playing field to be the first to reach it.

“Bloody first years,” Simon muttered as we walked across
the field towards school. Another day of toil at St
Agnes’ school faced us. Simon and I were in the lower
sixth form, making us both 17 years old. As members of
the elite in the school we found the noise and
misbehaviour of the youngest kids irritating in extreme.

Maybe I should tell you about ourselves. I’m Henry
Stevens, six foot, rugby loving and reasonably academic,
I like to think that I mix rugged good looks with a hard,
strong body and a great mind. Mind you, the other guys I
know wouldn’t agree but there’s no harm in selling
yourself hard.

In truth most of the stuff I said is true. I play rugby
for the first team and enjoy a good ruck. I’m head boy of
the school, a post I like to think is due to all my fine
characteristics but the guys reckon its just because they
wanted a hard man to keep the other kids in line.

I’m studying law, economics and politics. I chose these
subjects because they offer several lucrative career
moves whether as a lawyer, a politician or an accountant
– can’t lose either way.

Simon Harris was my best mate. A total nutter who would
sooner get pissed than play a game of football but who
had the finest intellect I had ever encountered. Although
he was an irrepressible jokester I had no doubt
whatsoever that he would take a first class degree at
Oxbridge without any problem. He was studying the
subjects as me but was clear in his objectives. Simon had
every intention of become a barrister and again I had no
doubt that he would do well.

The bell was just ringing as we reached the sixth form
building. The first lecture of day was “The origins of
English law” – a subject guaranteed to send the most
enthusiastic student to sleep. The room was fairly full
when we arrived. Sat in it’s usual place at the front was
the “St Agnes mafia”. This was a group of five girls
comprising of Shirley Foster and her four sycophants.
Shirley’s father was a high court judge and her family
lived in a huge mansion in the most expensive part of
town.

Shirley had an attitude problem. In essence she
considered herself to be of god-like stature. The rest of
us were no better than unwashed peasants. Apart from
being unspeakably spoiled she also was the foxiest bird
in the school. She had the usual attributes – blonde,
slim, fine large tits, a cute rear and long, slim legs.

Every guy I knew would willingly give her a good shafting
but she never let any of us get a look in. None of us was
worthy even to go on a date with her. Simon had once
suggested that god had been so busy giving her the
perfect body that he forgot to give her a cunt. Purely
speculation but I would have loved to have had the chance
to check it out.

Mr Syme, our lecturer had arrived and launched into the
days lecture. No sooner had he started than the door
opened and a late-comer crept in. The “mafia” gave a
groan of derision as the figure tried to remain
inconspicuous as she walked up the aisle. It was Jane
Roberts.

Every class has a victim. That misfit or pariah that the
nasty bullying faction love to abuse. Jane’s problem was
simply that she was overweight and she dressed scruffily.
She had long brunette hair which always looked unkept and
greasy and her standard clothing was a long, loose skirt,
a baggy black sweater and doc Martens boots. She was
actually quite a pretty girl but that didn’t seem to
matter to the mafia.

I personally had nothing against Jane. I had only spoken
to her once or twice so I hadn’t had a chance to get to
know her. She seemed pretty shy and very defensive. I
suppose what was most unfortunate is that none of us did
anything to help Jane out – something I’m not proud of.

“When you’re ready miss Roberts.” Mr Syme’s voice boomed
out, “I would like to resume the lecture.”

Jane blushed with embarrassment and shuffled into her
seat. I felt really sorry for her and quietly resolved to
watch out for Jane.

****

It was raining heavily when we left after the last
lecture. I saw Jane approaching as I was getting into my
Golf Gti. Recalling my earlier promise I called out to
her.

“Can I give you a lift?”

She looked surprised, mumbled “no thanks” and walked off
in the rain. Very strange.

When I got home I found mum and dad browsing holiday
brochures in the lounge. I grabbed a can of coke and
joined them.

Unlike most kids, I had an excellent relationship with my
parents. Somehow they had managed to tread a fine line as
parents of allowing me freedom to do my own thing without
either spoiling me or allowing me to run riot. We had a
strong relationship based on respect and trust. Dad was a
chemical engineer and mum a lawyer.

After a few years of following their own careers they had
formed a consultancy providing advice to chemical
companies on safety, legal and compliance issues. They
had found an excellent niche and were doing very well –
in fact, we were pretty well off.

We lived in a huge house – much too large for just the
three of us. Two B’mers on the drive along with my little
Gti.

“What gives?” I asked as I cracked my can.

“We’re pretty well finished the Acme chemicals safety
report and we think we deserve a long skiing holiday the
Christmas. Interested?” Dad replied.

I knew that they had worked non-stop for the last three
months on the Acme job and that it had earned them a
mint. They deserved some serious chill time. I didn’t
really fancy skiing and thought it would be nice to be on
my own.

“Sounds good but if you don’t mind, I would rather stay
here.”

I saw mum give dad a quick look of concern and I guessed
what she was thinking.

“I suppose you are old enough but we will be away at
least a month.” Mum finally spoke.

“But no wrecking the house with parties.” Dad added.

“As if.” I put on my most angelic face. They both
laughed. They knew how much I liked to party but they
also knew that my group of friends were OK.

“Enough of this,” Dad interrupted, we have planning to do
and you could get a couple of hours study in before
dinner.

“Sure,” I replied and rose to leave.

“And keep your stereo turned down,” Mum added.

*****

A couple of days later I was on lunch time patrol duty.
This involved walking the school area checking for kids
misbehaving. I was stood chatting up a very attractive
girl in fifth form when I saw Jane approaching. She
stopped and after a long moment of hesitation asked if
she could speak to me.

Being head boy has a number of perks including a study
where I can retire to work. Not only does this room have
a desk but I also have a leather couch, radio and kettle.
A real home from home.

“Lets go to my study, we can talk in private there,” I
suggested.

After making coffee, I sat down on the couch next to
Jane.

“What can I do for you?” I asked, smiling.

Again she hesitated as if trying to work out what to say.

“Y.you know how Shirley Foster and her friends are so
nasty to me all the time?” I nodded encouragingly. “Well
they’ve started sending me hate mail. I don’t know what
to do.” I could see her eyes filling with tears and she
began to sob. I put my arm around her shoulders and tried
to reassure her.

Once her sobs had subsided I asked to see the letters.
There were five of them, all with a similar theme:

“Piss off you fat slag. We don’t need your type here, go
back to where you belong, in the gutter.”

One of them threatened her with a good kicking.

“How do you know it’s Shirley?” I asked.

“I saw one of the gang slip a letter into my locker when
she thought I wasn’t around.”

I sat back and thought for a couple of minutes. Shirley
wasn’t the type to back off just because I told her. If I
could fix her then I knew that her buddies would run off
like frightened rabbits. The only option was to play
dirty.

“I think I know how to fix her but it will involve you
getting some more aggro. Can you hack it?”

Jane nodded.

“Anything to get them off my back.”

I explained my plan and suggested that we execute it
after school.

****

It was pouring with rain after school when I hid myself
in bushes at the side of the school field. I knew that
Shirley and her crew passed this way on the way home and
I had armed myself with a camera and telephoto lens. In a
while I saw the mafia leave school and start across the
field. Jane had also been watching and left on a parallel
course to them.

One of the mafia spotted Jane and gave a shout. I heard
Shirley shout out, “Get her!!”

I began taking pictures as they ran after her. Jane began
to run but deliberately let them catch her. With a push
she was knocked to the ground and the mafia circled her.
First the contented themselves with smearing her with mud
but Shirley soon grew bored and began kicking her. I ran
off half a dozen shots, including two of Shirley putting
in the boot and ran on the field to stop matters.

I shouted out and the girls stopped.

“What he hell is going on?” I shouted. The girls looked
at me with blank insolence. Jane lay on floor, wet, muddy
and sobbing.

“She called us names and we taught her a lesson.” Shirley
was unrepentant.

“I want to talk to you, the rest of you clear off before
I put you on report.” I wanted to sort Shirley out on her
own. The others walked off reluctantly and stood by the
road waiting muttering to each other. I turned my
attention to Shirley.

“I know you are lying, I saw everything. Jane didn’t call
you any names, your attack was unprovoked.”

“Prove it if you can,” Shirley wasn’t about to roll over.

“Oh I can prove it. You see I have the whole event on
film. Lucky for Jane I was taking some photos of the
school building when it started.”

Shirley’s face was now pale and her look of aggression
had gone.

“It seems to me that your father and the headmaster
really wouldn’t like to see these photos. I can just
imagine the judge’s reaction to seeing his daughter
commit assault.” I paused to let the thought sink in.

“You wouldn’t dare!” she snapped with a little less
bravado than before.

“Just try me. You’ve behaved like a spoilt little shit
for far too long, I’m going to fix you for good.” I let
that sink in for a moment.

“Let me tell you what is going to happen.” I continued.
“You are going to be nice to Jane from now on. So are
your friends. You will treat her with respect. If either
you or your friends say or do anything out of line, I
will send copies to the photographs to your father, the
headmaster and the local paper. Is the crystal clear?”

Shirley gulped and nodded.

“Pardon? I can’t hear you.”

“Yes. I understand.”

“Now apologise to Jane.”

Shirley paused and finally spoke.

“I’m sorry Jane.”

I could see she hated having to do it, her expression was
like someone who had just had a prickly cactus shoved up
their arse.

“Good girl now clear off. I’ll be watching you.”

Shirley walked off to join her friends.

Jane was still sobbing.

“Sorry I was slow in stopping them but I needed to get
the evidence. Did they hurt you?”

“I’m OK. I’ll have a few bruises but it was worth it.
Jane grinned, her face almost comical with it’s mud and
tear streaks.

*****

I insisted that I gave her a lift home. For some reason
Jane was reluctant but she finally acquiesced.

Apart from telling me where she lived Jane sat quietly
during the drive. Her home was in a block of flats on a
notoriously rough estate on the outskirts of town. I
parked up and in spite of her protests insisted in
walking with her to her door. I was a little concerned
that in spite of her claims of being OK that she might be
in shock. I thought it best to explain this to her
parents.

The block of flats was run down and well sprayed with
graffiti. Almost inevitably the lifts were broken and we
had to walk to the sixth floor. The door to Jane’s flat
was painted white with “Slag” written across it in black
spray paint. Jane opened the door and to turned to me.

“Thanks for the lift, I’m OK now.” she began.

She was interrupted from a female voice from inside.

“Brought a guest eh? Bring him in. I like to meet your
friends.”

I saw Jane cringe at the sound of the voice but she
nevertheless showed me in. The hall was uncarpeted and
the flat smelled of cigarette smoke, booze and the
unmistakeable smell of cannabis smoke. Jane took me into
the lounge. The room had a minimum of furniture – just a
worn couch, a coffee table, a TV with video and a rug.
Her mother lay on the couch. A fat woman wearing a
dressing gown which hung open showing her sagging tit and
a pair of worn red panties. She looked unkept, her hair
hanging uncombed to her shoulders. She was smoking a
joint and had a glass of white liquor in her hand.

“I won’t get up, I’m a little tired today,” she rasped
drunkenly. “I was up all night entertaining.”

As she spoke she was looking me up and down as if
inspecting me.

“Well. well.. Janie, you’ve got a pretty one there.
You’ll have to lend me him sometime.” She laughed nastily
and burst into a fit of coughing.

Jane looked at her mother with undisguised hate. She
grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the room. As we went
down the hallway I passed an open door to her mother’s
room. The bed was unmade and covered with a stained
sheet. I could see an empty bottle on the floor along
with several used condoms. At the end of the hall was
another door, fastened with a padlock. Jane unlocked it
and took me inside. Her bedroom was a stark contrast to
the rest of the house. It was neatly and brightly
decorated with decent furniture and a carpet.

“Please sit down,” she asked, “pointing at a chair in the
corner. “Let me get out of these wet clothes.”

Jane turned away from me and began to undress. I looked
away but caught sight of her reflection in her dressing
table mirror. I rather liked what I saw. Her bulky
clothes actually hid a very nice body. Sure she wasn’t
slim but she certainly wasn’t obese. She wore plain white
cotton panties which stretched nicely over her broad
rear.

I could never understand the preoccupation that women had
with whether their bums looked big in certain clothes.
Jane’s looked just right. She wore a white bra which
struggled to cope with her significant tits. I’m no
expert but my guess was that she was a good DD size. I
could see several red marks on her back and stomach where
she had been kicked. Jane would have some nasty bruises
in a day or two.

Jane slipped on another pair of jeans and a sweater and
made some coffee. She lay on her bed and after a moment
began to speak.

“I suppose I owe you some explanation but please
understand that no-one else knows what I’m going to tell
you.”

I had some doubts about whether I wanted to hear this but
I also guessed that she needed to talk.”

“It’s OK, you can trust me.”

For the next ten minutes Jane told me things which I
wouldn’t have believed possible. Her father had left home
when she was three. He had been a brutal man who drank
heavily and had been generous with his fists. He had had
some bother with a local gang and had moved to safer
territories up north. Her mother had also been a heavy
drinker and chose to earn her living by turning tricks
and doing a little drug dealing. She spent her time
drunk, stoned and in bed with various “friends” she had.

Jane had a part time job which she used to furnish her
room, buy her clothes and food. She expected and got
nothing from her mother. The lock on the outside of her
door and the bolts on the inside served two purposes.
They prevented her mother from pawning her possessions
and it kept out her mother’s “friends”.

This was necessary because one night, when she was 14, a
man had come into her room. He forced her to give him a
blow job. What had hurt most was that her mother had
helped the guy by holding her down. She found the ordeal
disgusting, the man’s cock was greasy and had stank of
what she assumed to be her mother’s cunt. As Jane lay in
her bed sobbing afterward her mother showed little
sympathy.

“Swallowing a little cum won’t hurt you. Anyway, we need
to keep the customers happy.”

From that time onward her room was kept secure at all
times and she kept a kitchen knife under her pillow. The
next man who tried anything would get a nasty surprise.

Jane was now waiting to complete her final exams so that
she could get away from home. This in itself had been
made more difficult by the stress that had been caused by
Shirley.

I didn’t interrupt at all as she spoke, simply allowing
her to talk herself to a standstill. Eventually when she
finished I could see how drained she was. She also seemed
relieved to have told someone about her life.

When I considered my own parents and my life, I realised
how lucky I was. Somehow I needed to give her some
support. I stood up.

“Come here,” I told her.

Joan looked bemused but nevertheless left the bed and
walked over. I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a
hug. At first she seemed surprised but the hugged me
back. I tried to ignore the feel of her heavenly tits
pressing against my body but it wasn’t easy. We stood
hugging without speaking for a couple of minutes before
Joan pulled away.

With a small smile she simply said “Thanks for listening
and the help.”

“No problem. Look I’m here for you if you need any help,
OK?”

Jane nodded. It was getting late so I made my farewells
and headed home.

****

The period leading up to Christmas was extremely busy. I
had a couple of exams to get through, mum and dad had
finished the Acme job and were getting ready for their
holiday and I was busy planning parties.

Finally the day came for their departure. Mum had stocked
up the house with food but nevertheless fussed over
whether I had enough to survive – don’t you just hate it
when your mum forgets that you are now capable of looking
after yourself?

Dad had got an Amex card for me so that I had sufficient
cash.

“Spend too much and you’re dead,” he told me.

****

It was Simon who noticed that Jane hadn’t been at school
for a couple of weeks. The weather had turned nasty with
heavily snowfalls and frosts and we were definitely in
for a white Christmas. I checked with the school office
but no-one had been in touch to say where Jane was.
Worried, I drove around to the flat after school.

The door was answered by her mother. She was in her usual
housecoat.

“Well, well, its lover boy. Anything I can do for you?”
she asked pulling her housecoat open to reveal her fat
naked body.

“Can I speak to Jane please, Mrs Roberts?”

“She’s not here.”

“Oh, when are you expecting her home?”

“I don’t know and don’t care. She’s left”. Mrs Roberts
snarled. “Come and look if you don’t believe me.”

We went to Jane’s room. It had been gutted. All the
furniture, her hi-fi and all her other bits and pieces
were gone.

“Surely she’s told you where she’s gone?” I asked.

“Look sonny, she can be in hell for all I care. She’s old
enough to look after herself now and I don’t need any
grief from you. Now piss off, I’m expecting company.”

Reluctantly I left.

I have to admit I was worried. Where the hell could Jane
go? Was she on the streets? It was getting dark and the
weather forecasts warned that temperatures were going to
drop well below zero. I decided to look for her.

First I tried the hostels for the homeless. I knew that
they were always full at Christmas. A year earlier I had
done some voluntary work and I knew the manager of one
hostel. I always found the places depressing. Although
the staff did their best to create a cheery atmosphere,
there was always that undercurrent of depression and
despair. Everyone knew that the shelter was temporary and
that they would be back on the streets after Christmas.

No-one had heard of Jane or anyone who looked like her.
The next place to look were the areas of town used by
those on the streets. There were a couple near the canal.
Armed with some cans of strong larger, cigarettes and
some meat pies I set out to meet whoever was there. I
found a group sitting around a large bonfire – there was
always plenty of wooden palettes to provide fuel.

I knew one or two of the guys and I sat down for a chat
and to hand out the goodies I had brought with me. The
food, booze and smokes went a long way to mellow the guys
and I asked them about Jane.

“There has been a girl around for a couple of weeks. Very
shy and definitely new to the streets. She had nothing
with her. One of the guys had a spare sleeping bag which
he gave her.” Life on the streets is tough if you don’t
have something like a sleeping bag or blanket to help
keep you warm.

She had stayed around for a couple of days and then had
disappeared.

There was an alley near the cathedral which was sometimes
used but it wasn’t a safe place. They suggested I check
it out.

The alley was dark but from my torchlight I could see it
was cluttered with rubbish of all sorts. I walked the
full length but saw nothing. As I turned to leave I heard
a single cough. I turned back but could see nothing but
rubbish. I started to search sifting trough the pile of
trash. Buried below I found a filthy sleeping bag. My
heart thudded as I pulled it open. Inside was Jane.

She looked deadly pale in the torchlight. She smelled
strongly of booze. Her face was cold and I pushed my hand
inside her sweater. The skin of her chest was cool – too
cool. I could feel her heart beating but I feared that
she might have hypothermia. I pulled her out of the
sleeping bag – not an easy task even with my strength –
and carried her across my shoulders to the car. I had to
get her home and warmed up in a hurry. Her jeans were
soaked with piss and I detected a strong smell of shit.
She was in a mess.

She lay comatose throughout the journey. I had done first
aid courses and I knew that it was crucial that the
temperature of the core of her body did not fall too low
if hypothermia was to be avoided. It was important to
treat the person gently so that no further internal
cooling occurred. When we reached the house I carried
Jane up to the bathroom. I propped her on the toilet and
began filling the bath with warm water. I guessed that
immersing her in warm water would be quick way of warming
her up.

I began peeling Jane’s clothes off her. At some stage she
had messed her panties and I had the nasty task of
cleaning her up. All her clothes would have to be thrown
out. I eased Jane into the bath and began washing her.
The warm water plus my vigorous soaping of her body began
to get her temperature up.

I won’t lie and tell you that I didn’t look at her while
I washed her. Her plump body, huge breasts capped with
large pink nipples, the thick bush over her cunt and the
thick stubble under her arm pits. Any other time I would
have thoroughly enjoyed such an erotic experience.
Instead I felt like I was preparing a corpse for burial.

After over an hour, I sensed that she was beginning to
come around. Getting her out of the bath was trickier
than getting her in. She was still pretty unresponsive so
it was a case of trying to lift a slippery dead weight.
After much struggling and grunting I got her onto the
edge of the bed where I could towel her down. Once dry
she was a little easier to lift.

I carried Jane into the guest room and after a major
struggle got her into a pair of my pyjamas. I had put an
electric blanket in the bed so I was able to slip her
into a nicely warmed bed. Once I tucked her into bed, I
phoned our neighbour who was a doctor. Fortunately he was
home and came over immediately. He checked her out.

“She is a very lucky girl. Well her pulse rate isn’t too
bad and her chest is clear. Her rectal temperature
indicates that her core temperature isn’t too depressed.
Fortunately she had only slight hypothermia. You got to
her just in time. I don’t think she would have survived
the night. Now tell what is she doing here, you should
have taken her to the hospital.” Doctor Hughes fixed me
with a serious look.

I explained who she was and what had happened.

“Well, you’re a good friend indeed – she’s double
blessed. What you need to do is get something warm into
her stomach. No tea or coffee, I suggest some warm clear
broth. Then let her sleep. If she starts coughing, call
me, I don’t want her developing pneumonia. I’ll call
round in the morning.”

With that he left.

I found some clear soup in the kitchen and filled a large
bowl. Slowly I fed Jane with the soup. Fortunately she
was sufficiently conscious to swallow without choking but
she really didn’t wake enough to speak. There was a
comfortable arm chair in the corner of the bedroom so I
turned off the main light and settled in chair to keep
vigil.

****

To my surprise Jane slept the night through. I was awoken
by a slight noise from the bed. I got up, Jane was awake
looking about in confusion. She saw me but it was a
moment before she realised who I was.

“Henry, where am I?”

I sat on the edge of the bed and explained that she was
at my home.

“How are you feeling,” I asked.

“Er. OK I think, a little tired and really hungry.”

“How does tea and toast sound?” I was delighted she
seemed OK.

I explained the events of the previous night as she ate.
Jane ate with a healthy appetite and I was pleased to see
some colour in her face instead of the deathly pallor of
the previous evening.

Jane suddenly looked concerned.

“Who got me into these pyjamas? Who put me to bed?” She
asked.

“I’m afraid I did. I also gave you a bath. I needed to
get you warm and, er., you had a little accident in your
panties.” I admitted.

Jane blushed deep red.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I want to die with embarrassment.”
Jane began to sob.

“Hey relax,” I tried to lighten things up, “Its not every
day that I have the privilege of wiping a beautiful
woman’s bum. Anyway, I told you before that I was here
for you. Now tell me why you were on the streets.”

“It happened after you left our flat. Mum was unusually
obnoxious wanting to know all about you and asking
whether we had had sex. Then she told me that she had
some special guests that evening and that it was time
that I helped her with the entertainment.”

“I knew what she meant. She wanted me to let them have
sex with me. I told her that I was still a virgin and
that I would decide when and with who I would lose it.
She then grabbed me and pushed me out the door. She told
me that if I won’t earn my keep then I can find somewhere
else to live.”

“I had nowhere to go and nothing with me so I went into
town. Basically I lived rough using what I could scrounge
from others. I suppose she’s sold all my stuff.”

I nodded. “Sorry, she showed me your room. She’s gutted
it.”

“So I have nothing in the world.” Jane began sobbing.

Things looked impossible although a seed of an idea
formed in my mind.

“Just a moment Jane, all may not be lost.”

I grabbed the bed-side phone and dialled dad’s mobile.

“Hey kid, what’s new.” Dad’s voice boomed through.
“Wrecked the house yet?”

“Mostly cool dad but I have a bit of a problem.”

I gave him a run through of what had happened. Dad and I
always thought along the same lines and he identified the
same solution as I did.

“Let me have a word with you mum and I’ll ring back.”

True to his word dad rang back in a couple of minutes.

“We’re both agreed on this son. Jane stays at our place
as long as she wants. No conditions, she is our guest.
Use the Amex to get her what she needs. And whatever you
do, you don’t tell her mother where she is. OK?”

“Understood dad,” I grinned.

“Let me talk to Jane.” Dad continued.

I handed the phone to Jane and left her to talk while I
took her cup and plate to the kitchen. When I returned
she was still speaking.

“Th. thankyou. Mr Stevens are you sure it’s not too much
trouble.”

“Don’t be daft girl, we have more space than we need and
I need someone to make sure Henry behaves himself. Could
you put Henry back on?” I heard dad’s voice boom from the
phone.

“He wants another word,” Jane handed me the phone.

“Hi again.”

“She seems a nice kid, Henry. She’s in need of serious
reassurance and comfort. Do what you can.”

“Will do dad. Speak to you soon.”

****

“I don’t know what to say.” Jane looked nonplussed.

“There is nothing to say. You are our long term guest.
This house is a place where you are safe. In any case we
have a bigger problem to deal with.”

Jane looked up, questioning.

“Young lady, you have no clothes. You cannot walk around
in pyjamas and you can’t borrow any of mine – my pants
won’t fit your bum.”

Jane blushed again.

“You really must get out of that habit of blushing when I
tease you. Now what do you need?”

I fetched a note pad to make a shopping list.

“Knickers?” I began. “What type?”

“I like the full sort that cover my bum. I can’t wear
those thongs – they are uncomfortable and make me sore.”
Again Jane blushed.

“OK, what a about bras. How big? What type? 38FF?”

“I’m not that big!!! Nice comfy ones, underwired 34DD.”
Jane realised that I was joking to lighten the moment and
responded in kind.

“OK jeans, shirts, sweaters?”

“I’m a size 18. I prefer darker colours. I’ll also need
some stuff from the chemist – hairbrush, toothbrush and
some pads.”

“Pads?”

“You know, lady’s things. My period is due.” Jane managed
this time without blushing.

“Fine. I’ll go shopping. Is there anything you need?”

“I would like to grab a shower and then another sleep.”

I phoned school with an excuse that I had flu and
wouldn’t be in. As I reached the door I saw Dr Hughes
walking up the drive.

“How is Jane?” He asked.

“Well she slept the night through and has had breakfast
so I think she’s on the mend.”

“Good, I’ll just check her over,” he replied and went
upstairs.

I waited in the hall for the ten minutes he was with
Jane.

“I think we have nothing to worry about,” he said when he
came back down. “her temperature is fine and there is no
sign of chest problems. Just keep an eye on her.”

I thanked him and we both left the house.

****

The thought of going shopping for a woman was pretty
daunting if not embarrassing. How on earth do I go
shopping for underwear? I then remembered a small shop
which catered for larger women. Perhaps they would be
able to help.

My heart was thumping just a little as I walked into the
shop. Luckily there were no other customers in the
lingerie department. The assistant, a highly voluptuous
lady in her thirties came up to me.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“This is a little difficult for me,” I began, “I need to
buy some underwear for a friend. She is unwell and cannot
come in for herself.”

“What underwear do you need and what size is the lady?”

“Bras and knickers. She is size 18 and 34DD. She is 17
years old and likes full fit panties.” I added that I was
looking something which was quite sexy – I decided that
Jane needed something to boost her self-esteem.

“It is best if the lady in question can come into the
shop for a fitting but we can probably manage. Many young
ladies like a type of bra which lies snug with the skin.
It allows them to wear close fitting tops without visible
“bra lines”. Do you think this might interest the young
lady?”

“I think it. What do they look like?” I had no idea but
it was a good place to start.

The attendant asked a colleague to mind the shop for ten
minutes.

“Please wait a moment.” She asked. She went into a store
room and returned a moment later with half a dozen boxes.
“Please come with me.

She led me into a small room.

“I don’t usually do this with customers but it might be
the best way to help you decide.”

She took off her blouse. She had fabulous tits, roughly
the same size as Jane. She had on a white, unpatterned
bra which gripped her tits snugly. The material was
translucent allowing her dark nipples to be visible.

“This is the type I was talking about. They are extremely
comfortable and give excellent support. This is vital for
the lady with a fuller bosom.” I guessed that “fuller
bosom” meant big tits.

I nodded. The sight was so sexy that my throat had dried.

Quickly she turned her back to me and slipped off her
bra. She put on one from a box. This was the same design
but in a flesh colour. The straps were made from a
transparent plastic

“This one is almost invisible under any blouse or shirt.
They can also be worn with strapless tops.”

Over the next 20 minutes the assistant showed me several
different designs, all very sexy. One in particular was
slightly low cut so that it could be worn with a low cut
top giving a sexy cleavage.

I really couldn’t decide so I bought one of each. The
assistant looked a little surprised so I explained that
the lady in question had lost her luggage during a recent
flight from abroad and was having to restock.

Most of the bras came with matching panties of a suitable
design so I bought a selection of these plus a few packs
of plain white cotton panties.

Once I had paid I went into the clothes section of the
shop. This was an easier task. I bought a couple of pairs
of designer jeans, some simple blouses, some sweaters and
socks. I found some seriously sexy low cut tops which
would show Jane’s figure off. I also found some skirts.

After a couple of hours and �500 poorer, I left the shop.
I slipped into a shoe shop and bought suitably
fashionable shoes – no Doc Marten’s, I wanted Jane to
have a new, more feminine image. A quick visit to the
chemist to get her toiletries. While I was there I drew
on the advice of the girl at the cosmetics counter to buy
some nail varnish, lipstick and perfume.

****

When I got home I went to the guest room to leave my
shopping. The room was empty and the bed made. I found
Jane in the lounge watching TV. I could see from her damp
hair that she had showered.

“How’re you feeling?” I asked.

“Human again.” She replied with a smile.

I told her that her shopping was in her room and she
scampered off to check it out. I heard one or two squeals
of surprise and then all was silence. After ten minutes I
heard her walk downstairs and into the lounge.

Holy shit, what a sight. Jane was wearing a white low cut
top and jeans. Both clung to her body. She must have been
wearing the pink bra because her tits looked soft and
natural with no signs of her bra. She wore no shoes or
socks. She had painted her fingernails and toenails
scarlet. She had brushed her hair and she looked radiant.
She looked good enough to eat.

She came over to me, bent forward, giving me a fabulous
view of her cleavage and gave me a huge kiss.

“Oh Henry,” she spoke with a huskiness in her voice,”
thank you for the wonderful things. I feel so sexy. How
did you choose such naughty bras?”

She looked at me in disbelief as I explained how the shop
assistant had modelled them for me.

****

Jane was in need of some serious advice and now was the
time.

“Jane, I hope you now realise that you really are a sexy
lady. Why on earth did you wear such unflattering clothes
before”

“Because I’m fat.” Jane replied bluntly. “I have huge
tits and a belly which wobble when I walk. Shirley and
her friends used to say I was fat.”

There was a full height mirror in the hall and I told
Jane to go and look at herself in it. As she looked at
the reflection I asked her;

“Do you look fat?”

Sure she was no skinny bird but her new clothes
emphasised the curves of her body giving her a voluptuous
sexiness.

“Jump up and down. Do you tits wobble?”

Jane jumped a couple of times. Her new bra worked
perfectly, limiting her tits to a soft, natural movement.

“Do you accept that you are not fat but are in fact an
attractive and sexy lady?”

Jane looked at herself in a number of positions before
replying.

“Hmmm, if you say so. I must say I feel pretty damn
good.” And burst into laughter. Then she turned to me.

“Once you gave me a hug when I needed one. I now want to
give you one.”

Oh my, what a hug it was. Her gorgeous tits pressed
against my chest with a soft warmth. My cock stood to
attention in record time and in spite of my best efforts
my bulging crotch brushed against her lower belly. Jane
must have noticed and seemed to press her body against me
harder. Her face nuzzled the crook of my neck and I
smelled the perfume of her hair. Jane gave a sigh.

“Can we go up to my room?” she asked.

I could no more fly than refuse, I was besotted with
Jane. In fact, I realised I had been since the time she
asked for my help. We were kissing as soon as we got into
her room. Full, deep kisses so that I could taste the
sweet moisture in her mouth. My hand roamed over her body
feeling her softness.

Jane pulled away and I felt a pang of dismay. Had she
changed her mind? I then realised that she was taking off
her clothes.

“Henry, have you had sex before?” Jane asked as she
pulled down her jeans.

“Yes, once.” I replied. It had been a fumbled and very
messy affair in the back of my car after a school dance.

“Oh,” Jane seemed a little disappointed.

“It was messy and over in 30 seconds,” I grinned.

I suddenly realised that I wasn’t prepared.

“Just a moment,” I gasped and rushed into my parent’s
room. Lurking in the drawer of dad’s bedside locker I
found a packet of condoms. I rushed back to Jane’s room
with it in my hand.

Jane was sat naked on the bed. I dropped the condoms on
the bedside locker and stripped. My “old feller” was
standing to attention and Jane wasted no time in grabbing
it in her hand. Her touch sent shocks of pleasure through
me.

“Henry, are they all this big?”

My cock was a decent six or so inches, not huge but good
enough. What was more important was that it was pretty
wide. I remember a few years earlier a group of us had
compared cocks in the showers. Mine was a good two inches
across.

“Slow down,” I gasped, “or I’ll come.”

Once I was nude I slid onto the bed and we resumed
kissing. This time it was her naked tits which pressed
against me. The hot feeling of skin on skin was
fantastic. My hands resumed their travels over her body,
this time unrestrained by clothing. Jane shuddered and
whimpered as my hands brushed the sides of her belly over
her waist. She broke away.

“Oh, that sends tingles through my body.”

I run my hand across her plump belly to the thick bush
between the thighs. Jane parted her legs inviting my hand
down onto her cunt. The hair covering her slit was
soaking wet from the juices flooding from her. She
shuddered as my finger brushed over her clit on it’s way
into her cunt. My finger slid in some way and then met
the thin skin of her hymen. I hesitated. Jane grabbed my
hand and pulled it hard against her. My finger burst
through her hymen and deep into her body.

“Good, that’s done.” She sighed. “Now fuck me Henry”

No finesse here, Jane had stronger needs. There would be
time for more lingering sex another time. I rolled on a
condom and moved between Jane’s thighs. I felt her grasp
my cock and ease it into her. A firm thrust and my cock
was deeply into her tight, hot passage. Jane gasped, her
eyes wide with surprised pleasure as I filled her. I was
impressed how easily she stretched to take me.

Jane moved slightly allowing my pubic bone to press
against her clit.

“Oh, I like that!!!” she gasped.

Slowly she began rotating her lower body so that I
constantly crushed against her clit. This meant that I
was able to control myself while Jane became more and
more excited.

Jane began to gasp and squeal and grind against me more
quickly. I guessed she was getting close and began
pushing in and out hard, bottoming out each time. By as
much luck than skill we were approaching orgasm together.
With a series of squeals and digging her nails into my
back, Jane hit her’s first.

Seconds later, I felt that glorious pressure build behind
my cock. My cock swelled, causing Jane’s eyes to widen,
and I felt my juice burst from me with pulses of
pleasure. Jane smiled broadly as she felt my cock pulsing
inside her.

“I wish I could feel you filling me up instead of that
horrible rubber thing.”

Afterwards we lay naked on the bed. Jane lay half on me
with her head on my chest. We didn’t speak, being content
to bask in satisfied afterglow. I remembered what Jane
had said about her choosing of who and when her virginity
would be taken. I felt privileged to have been that
person. Our reverie was disrupted by the sound of the
phone. Cursing the caller with a thousand agonies I
picked up the phone.

“Yes?” I spoke in a cold unwelcoming voice.

“Hey H, you old sheep shagger! Wazzzzzupppp?” It was
Simon. “I heard you was sick.”

“I was fine until I heard your voice, “I retorted.

“That’s what everyone says. Did I interrupt you
strangling the monkey?”

I had to chuckle, Simon was irrepressible.

“Listen, man. Can I come around? I have some serious
parteeeeeeee business to discuss.” Simon was a pretty
good mimic and used a variety of ‘voices’ to spice up
conversations. The word ‘party’ was pronounced in his
best 1970’s DJ voice.

Any prospect of further cuddling with Jane that afternoon
was scuppered so I agreed.

“Sure, give me 30.” I replied and hung up.

“Simon is coming around. We have enough time for a quick
shower.”

“OK, race to the bathroom,” Jane laughed and leapt off
the bed.

I have to tell you, sharing a shower is seriously good
fun. It was a shame that we couldn’t spend the rest of
the afternoon doing it

****

When I answered the door I saw Simon and Gina. Gina,
Simon’s girlfriend, was a seriously cute girl. Tiny,
petit, almost flat-chested but very sexy she was one of
the nicest girls in our class. I could never understand
what she saw in Simon (although Simon did have the
biggest schlong I had ever seen) but the simple fact was
that they were besotted with each other. I led them into
the lounge.

Simon spotted Jane and slipped into Errol Flynn mode. He
gave hugely exaggerated bow.

“Good day fair lady.” He hadn’t recognised Jane, but Gina
did.

“Simon its Jane Roberts.”

“Nah,” he replied in disbelief, “Bloody hell, Jane. You
look amazing.” It was a delight to see Simon lost for
words. It didn’t last long. Jane had enough time to smile
with pleasure before Simon adopted his Groucho Marx
persona.

“Good-day madam, what fine breasts, are they yours? If I
were a woman I would like breasts like those. In fact,
come to think of it, if I were a man I would like breasts
like those.” He sat down beside Jane and putting his arm
around her he added. “It would be awfully decent of you
if you could see your way to lending them to Gina for a
day or two.”

It was a measure of Simon’s natural comic abilities that
rather than being insulted both girls were giggling at
his remarks. Knowing how Simon could turn any occasion
into a riot, I needed to stop the silliness.

“Enough already, who wants a drink?” The girls asked for
coffee and I grabbed Simon. “Come and help wise guy.”

Once in the kitchen Simon became serious.

“OK man, give, what’s happened to Jane?”

“Some pretty nasty personal shit but she’s making out
fine.” I wasn’t about to spill the beans – even to Simon.

“So are you?” to Simon sex was king.

“That’s for me to know and you find out,” was all I would
say.

I carried through the coffees and Simon carried a couple
of bottles of Budd for us.

“This years party theme is the 1960’s. You know,
miniskirts, nakedness, free sex and general rampant
misbehaviour.” Simon announced.

Simon was famous for his parties. There was always a
theme and they always ended up in mayhem. The last one
had been a vicars and tarts party. Three girls had been
so convincing that they had been accused of soliciting. I
could never work out why his parents let him hold these
parties, but they were great fun.

“What on earth can I wear to the party?” Jane asked
later.

“Well as Simon said, the ’60s was all about miniskirts
and see through blouses. You would look great.” I
suggested helpfully. Jane was unimpressed.

“You may like my rear but my bum is too big for a
miniskirt. I’m not showing off by boobs and bum to
everyone at the party.”

Damn, I had to think again. After a lot of thought Jane
spent some time looking at dad’s collection of vinyl.
Inside she found a copy of Jimi Hendrix’s “Rainbow
Bridge” On the back was a shot of a long haired brunette
in a long flower patterned dress and a head band.

“That’s it,” Jane announced pointing at the picture. A
hippy I shall be.”

With a little searching we tracked down a suitable dress.
To my delight it had a low cut top which revealed Jane’s
cleavage perfectly. I found a kaftan and a wig in a
charity shop. We made a perfect, if not slightly
ridiculous, hippie couple.

****

The party was already in full swing when we arrived at
Simon’s house. Simon appeared wearing a Beatle jacket,
Beatle wig and John Lennon glasses. Gina wore a lacy
blouse and a tiny mini-skirt.

“Don’t you get a nasty cold draught in that skirt?” I
asked her.

“No, I’ve put on thick cotton panties.” Gina replied with
a grin. “Anyway, the only thing which I need to worry
about getting up my skirt is Simon’s hand.”

I grabbed a bottle of Budd and a glass of wine for Jane
and began to mingle. Most of the guests were guys from
our class and I was getting into the party spirit when
Shirley arrived. I was surprised that Simon had invited
her and even more surprised that she decided to come.

Shirley took off the fur coat she was wearing to reveal
that all she wore was a skin tight cat suit. It was so
tight that her crotch formed a perfect ‘camel’s foot’
With her flowing blonde hair she looked like someone out
of a James Bond film. I felt Jane nudge me.

“She’s nude under that catsuit,” She whispered. “I hope
doesn’t have to pee in a hurry.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because there are no buttons or zips in the crotch. She
will have to take it off to go to the toilet.”

“Really? How interesting.” Simon had been listening.
“Excuse me, there is something I need to attend to.”

Simon went upstairs. Knowing Simon, I suspected that
mischief was in the air. Of course I was right.

After an hour or so, during which Shirley had been
drinking steadily, I saw her walk over to Simon. She
spoke briefly and I saw Simon lead her upstairs. As he
walked past he whispered, “follow us at a safe distance.”
Jane and I waited until they disappeared into Simon’s
parent’s room and followed. Simon was sat on his parent’s
bed with a grin on his face. Shirley was nowhere to be
seen.

“What.” I began, only to be stopped by a shriek from the
en suite toilet.

“HELP. I’M STUCK!!!”

Simon pulled open the toilet door to reveal Shirley,
naked, struggling on the toilet. The catsuit was on the
floor and Shirley was struggling frantically, revealing
her gorgeous body. Her firm tits wobbled as she
struggled. From the small blonde tuft above her slit it
was clear she was a natural blonde.

“My bum is stuck to the seat!” she screamed, tears
running down her face. “It hurts!!”

Several revellers had come upstairs had come into the
room and Shirley’s pink form was under close scrutiny by
twenty of so sets of eyes.

“Have you bastards seen enough,” she screeched, “for
fucks sake get me out.”

I could see things were getting out of hand.

“Simon, what have you used? Superglue?”

“Yeah, I’ve got some solvent which will dissolve it.”

“Give it to me and clear these people out,” Jane snapped,
snatching the small plastic bottle.”

Simon realised that things weren’t as funny as he
expected and he cleared the room without another word.
Gina and Jane went into the bathroom and shut the door.

After about twenty minutes the door opened and the three
of them came out. Shirley was crying and the girls had
their arms around her.

“Is she OK?” I asked.

“Her bum is red and sore but otherwise no physical harm.”
Gina replied.

“I want to go home, “Shirley sobbed.

I had a blinding idea.

“That wouldn’t be a good idea,” I told her.

The three girls looked at me in surprise.

“If you go now then Simon will have won. You need to show
him that he is really the loser.”

“What?” Shirley sobbed.

“The only thing which Simon will understand is if you get
some revenge on him.”

“I don’t see why I should. My father will take care of
him when I tell him what has happened.” Shirley went in
haughty mode.

“Yeah that’s what we expect of you.” I decided to be
blunt. “You like to think that you’re a cut above us all
because of your father. The fact is your father’s status
is down to his own efforts. You can’t hijack them to add
to your own reputation. We judge you from your own
achievements which, to be blunt, are pretty
insignificant. You have to learn to fight your own
battles – be judged for what you are.”

The three girls looked at me in astonishment.

“Henry, she’s already upset without you being nasty.”
Jane snapped.

“Jane, Shirley needs a reality check. I want her to see
what she is and what we think of her. Does she want some
genuine friends or just those brown-nosers who follow her
around? Maybe then she can become a more decent person.
Shirley, wouldn’t you like to get some payback on Simon?
Show him and the others that not only can you take his
lousy joke but you also know how to dish it out?”

To my mild surprise Shirley sat quietly – thinking.

“What do you have in mind?” She finally asked.

“There are lots of possibilities. What would you girls
like to do to him?”

“Well, seeing how he exposed Shirley for all to see, we
could do the same to him. Gina suggested.

I could see that the girls were getting some ideas so I
decided to beat a retreat to the bar.

“I’ll leave you ladies to your plotting,” I told them and
left.

****

You can accuse me of not being a good mate but I had two
reasons for wanting the girls to give Simon some grief.
The reality was that Simon needed a sharp lesson in
behaving sensibly and I thought the girls would do the
job well. If it gave Shirley a chance to grow up then all
the better. I sat on a couch sipping a cold Budd and
watched the world go by. I noticed Gina and Jane moving
around the room speaking to the other girls. In every
case the girls gave a giggle, nodded and followed them
out of the room. This went on for some time.

I knew the game was afoot when Gina came into the lounge.
She walked up to Simon, grabbed his arse and whispered in
his ear. I guessed that she was making a seriously smutty
suggestion because Simon followed her out of the room and
up the stairs. Soon it was Simon’s turn to scream for
help. There were only guys in the lounge and we looked at
each other in surprise.

“What the fuck! Is that Simon?” Pete asked.

“Sounds like it.” I added.

As one we ran upstairs. The door to Simon’s parent’s room
was locked. We could hear muffled screams coming from
inside the room along with female laughter. Pete banged
on the door.

“What’s going on?” he shouted.

The door opened a crack.

“You’ll see in a moment.” Came the reply.

After a further ten minutes the door burst open and a
large group of girls came out carrying Simon. The went
downstairs into the garden, where they tied him to a
tree. We followed down. What a sight! Simon was naked
apart from a pair of girl’s panties which had been pulled
tight giving him a wedgie but failing to hide his
humungous cock, which lay on his leg. (I wondered who had
donated the panties) His face was covered in makeup and
his lips smeared with red lipstick. They had written
“Soft Bastard” on his chest also in lipstick. The area
around his cock was red and hairless.

“The sods have given me a bikini line waxing, and they’ve
stuck a huge vibrator up my arsehole.” he groaned.

I realised that if you listened carefully, you could just
make out the buzzing of it’s motor.

“Hell, that is some dong.” Some guy shouted. “Hey Gina,
is it a fun ride?”

I saw Gina blush but she nevertheless replied.

“Why? do you want to try it?” she grinned.

“Well Simon, how do you like a little pain and exposure?”
Shirley asked.

“The worst bit is that I don’t have a drink,” he moaned.
Even now Simon had to crack a joke. I realised that he
was beyond help and that he would probably be cracking
jokes on his deathbed.

If Shirley was disappointed in his reaction she wasn’t
going to let it show.

“Alright girls, let’s leave him to chill for a while.
Time for a drink.”

I hoped they wouldn’t leave him for too long – it was
after all a cold December evening.

The girls let Simon stew for half an hour or so and then
relented before he got frostbitten – although he did
catch a nasty cold. To his credit Simon took his
treatment well but sadly it didn’t diminish his appetite
for extreme jokes.

****

By the time we got back home we were nicely tired and
more than a little pissed. We simply stripped and fell
into bed.

Sometime during the night, I woke up. Jane was lying on
her side facing away from me and I was pressed against
her back so that her heavenly rump pushed against my
cock. My ‘old man’ was seriously stiff and I eased it
between her legs so that it rubbed against her cunt.

Jane must has sensed my movement because she sighed and
pushed her rear more firmly against me. Her crotch was
slippery with her juices and I easily slide my cock
inside her. The position was perfect – I could rub her
tits or clit while slowly fucking her. Her crotch and
inner thighs were flooding with juices – Jane was
seriously aroused.

We were in no hurry, choosing to fuck gently. Jane’s rear
was moving more firmly and I guess my cock must have
slipped out at some stage but because her slippery inner
thighs were gripping me so tightly I didn’t notice for
some time.

“You’re in the wrong hole,” Jane whispered.

Her butthole must have been so well lubricated that I had
slid into it without realising. I apologised and began to
pull back.

“No don’t, it feels nice.” Jane asked as she pushed
against me. I felt my cock completely buried in tight,
hot place. Jane opened her legs and began rubbing her
clit. I began gently squeezing and massaging her tits.
Jane’s nipples were pretty big anyway but with my
attention the had stiffened until they stood out like
organ stops.

So we lay, me slowly and deeply fucking her arse while
she masturbated and I worked on her tits. It’s fair to
say I was pretty worked up but Jane must have been even
more so. Slowly her moans became louder and her movements
became faster. Just listening to her getting more and
more aroused was as exciting as the feeling of her tight
ring rubbing up and down my cock.

Naturally I couldn’t hang on for ever and I felt the
tension build behind my balls and my cock swell even
more. When I came it felt as though my guts were being
pulled through my cock – I had never felt anything so
intense. The pulsing and jetting of my cock was enough to
trigger Jane and with a squeal she came.

Warm and satiated, we didn’t bother moving, choosing to
fall asleep as we were.

****

Christmas was cold but pleasant. Simon and Gina came
around for dinner and we had a warm and slightly drunk
time in front of the fire.

Early in the new year mum and dad came home. They were
deeply tanned and were obviously well rested. Jane was a
little nervous about meeting them but she got on with
them really well. We had a habit of dealing with
important issues by holding a “family meeting”. What was
cool about it was that I had just as much a say as they
did.

Once they had unpacked their bags and eaten, mum and dad
called a family meeting. Jane started to go to her room
when mum stopped her.

“Please stay, Jane, the meeting involves you too.”

Slightly surprised Jane sat down.

“OK,” Dad began. “I think it would be helpful if we
discussed Jane’s plans. Jane, you need to understand that
you are welcome to stay here as long as you want. No
pressure, no hassles. Have you thought about what you
want to do?”

I knew the answer. We had talked about what we wanted out
of life. Jane wanted to study medicine although she had
no idea how she would be able to pay her way through
university – her mother was no use for any cash.

“Thankyou for letting me stay – I have nowhere else. I
hope to go to university one day to study medicine but I
don’t see how I can.” She replied.

“Jane, do you feel able to tell mum and dad about your
mum and your life with her?” I thought it might help if
they had the full picture. “You chat while I make some
coffee.

I figured that it would easier for her to talk without me
hanging about. I killed some time making some phone calls
and took the coffee in after about twenty minutes. I
could see from their expressions that they had the full
story.

“Pretty rough huh?”

They just nodded.

****

Jane settled in happily and soon established herself at
school as a good scholar. We fucked as often as
circumstances would allow and I think it’s fair to say we
were in love. We had heard nothing from Jane’s mother and
Jane hadn’t spoken about her.

For some strange reason, one day she changed her mind.

“H, I want to go and see mum after school,” she told me
one morning.

I wasn’t sure it was a good idea but it was her choice
and I agreed to drive her.

When we reached the flat we found the front door
unlocked. The flat was even more untidy than before,
freezing cold and smelled pretty disgusting. The lounge
was empty. We heard coughing coming from her mother’s
bedroom and we went in.

Jane’s mother lay in bed. She was a real mess and I could
see blood stains on her pillow and sheets. Her face was
white and haggard – she looked seriously ill. The word
‘tuberculosis’ sprang to my mind.

“What the fuck do you want?” she rasped before being
seized by a coughing fit.

“I wanted to see you,” Jane replied.

Jane’s mother didn’t reply. She couldn’t. Her coughing
fit became more fierce and blood trickled from her mouth.
She was gasping for breath.

Jane went to comfort her while I rang for an ambulance.

The coughing finally subsided to a degree and we waited
in silence until the ambulance arrived. The paramedics
took one look at her and loaded her onto a stretcher.

One of them gave me a look which suggested that she was a
hopeless case, Jane didn’t notice.

We followed the ambulance to the hospital. The paramedics
approached us as we walked over to the ambulance. The
news was bad, Jane’s mother had haemorrhaged during the
journey and couldn’t be saved. It later turned out that
her heavy drinking had weakened blood vessels in the
throat and that these had burst causing haemorrhage.
Apparently this was a consequence of cirrhosis. The
haemorrhage had been catastrophic and impossible to stop.

To her infinite credit, in spite of her treatment Jane
mourned her mother. None of her mother’s many friends
bothered attending the funeral leaving just us to stand
at the graveside.

****

Things worked out pretty well of all of us but not quite
as you might expect.

As predicted Simon studied law and was called to the bar.
After only five years he took silk and is currently the
youngest QC in the country. He married Gina, now a
successful psychologist and both are doing very nicely.

Jane and I never got together. We went to different
universities and although I was her first love we drifted
apart and she met and married a fellow medical student.
Jane is a successful general practitioner and has three
lovely children whom I adore. We’re very close – rather
like brother and sister and I have the privilege of being
godfather to her children. Although I’ve never admitted
it openly, losing her gutted me.

As for me, I suppose you might say I was the failure of
the group. I took a degree in economics and joined a
merchant bank. For five years I worked like a maniac
earning a huge amount of cash before I burned out. I had
had a number of girlfriends but I didn’t have time for
love or marriage. After my breakdown I was left with no
desire to rejoin the rat race so quit.

I sold my big house and my Mercedes and bought a villa in
Port Grimaud and a boat. Life is warm and gentle in the
south of France. I spend my time between fishing and
sitting a small bar discussing politics. I’ve never
managed to find the right lady to marry – none could
compare to Jane, but I have several very good lady
friends who help me sleep from time to time.

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