It was the stupidest thing I’ve done in my entire life; let’s be honest, I knew that at the time but I still did it, silly cow! It was just before Christmas, and I’d gone with a few of my fellow teachers to the pub to celebrate the end of term – my first in my new profession. I’m Cathy Hull by the way, 23, pretty in a girl-next-door sort of way with a pale face, regular features, shoulder length brown hair (mousey, if I’m, being honest), and quite petite, five-foot-four with a slim figure. I’m from just outside London, and the school I teach at is about fifty miles north of my home town.
Anyway, yes, we were all at the pub, four of us by the end, and I suppose we’d had a few too many drinks by closing time. I certainly had. It was incredibly stupid, because I was due to get a train home the following morning, and my parents would love it if I turned up hung-over and smelling like a brewery. God knows what made me do it, but I told the others that I’d been on a few naturist holidays with my parents in my teens, and I quite fancied doing it again. It really feels quite liberating walking around nude in the open air, with the Mediterranean sun warming your body. After a few bad taste jokes about me ogling my dad’s willy the conversation moved on.
About half an hour later, though, as I came back from the loo, one of the fellers, Marcus Stewart, brought up the subject of naturism again. I saw Judy Preece smirk – she and I have never been the best of friends – but it was only much later that I realised she had put Marcus up to it. He said something about nudism not being possible in Britain because of the climate. Trying to defend my lifestyle choice I told him that there are dozens of clubs in the UK, including one less than three miles from the school. Marcus nodded sagely. “So you enjoy being starkers in public, do you? Wouldn’t you get embarrassed if someone you knew saw you?”
If I hadn’t been so tipsy I might have seen where he was going, but as it was I plunged in with both feet. Of course I wouldn’t, I said, the human body was nothing to embarrassed about, and people were too childish about the concept of nudity. Marcus nodded again, and said, “I’ll bet you wouldn’t go naturist in Britain though.” I laughed and said I’d be happy to. At that Marcus leaned forwards with a suggestive grin on his face. “All right then, prove it. I dare you to do a streak, tonight.”
I stared at him open-mouthed and told him not to be so stupid. I looked at Judy and the other guy with us, Dave Birch, for support. Judy gave me a challenging look, and Dave just stared into his beer, seemingly embarrassed by the whole thing. Marcus crowed, “I knew it, you’re all mouth and trousers Cath!”
I felt myself blushing. “For fuck’s sake Marcus, summer, inside the walls of a camp, is one thing. We’re in the middle of a town in the middle of bloody winter.”
Judy gave me a patronising smile, but said, “Don’t listen to him Cathy, Marcus just wants to see your tits and fanny.” Judy has a big chest whereas I only need a A-cup, so I thought she was probably being bitchy.
Marcus was still jeering at me, then, through my alcoholic haze, I thought I’d come up with a brilliant wheeze to shut him up. Oh God, it would never have happened if I’d just stuck with alcopops instead of moving onto beer. Slamming my glass down on the table, I said, “Okay Marcus, I will if you will.” I smiled triumphantly around the table, expecting that to kill the discussion.
Marcus’ smile wavered for about a quarter of a second, then he nodded and said, “Okay. Marshall Lane, when we leave here.” Drunk as I was, I felt the blood draining from my face. I couldn’t believe the twit had actually called my bluff. I was about to say I was kidding, and no way was I going to do anything so fucking stupid; but Judy was still favouring me with that superior look, and I wanted to wipe the smile off her face. I thought about Marshall Lane. It was three streets from the pub, a narrow cobbled byway no more than about 50 yards long, badly lit and lined with only warehouses and lock-up garages. Even so close to Christmas, with the town crawling with folk, it was bound to be deserted, with no householders overlooking it. It was freezing outside – I saw with dismay that snowflakes were beginning to lazily fall – but it would only take a matter of seconds, then I’d make damn sure that sodding Marcus bought me a coffee and a bacon roll at one of the all-night cafés in Market Street.
It was another hour before we left the pub. I kind of hoped that Marcus had either been joking or was pissed enough to have forgotten about his dare; but just before closing time he bought us both a large brandy, telling me with a wink, “I wouldn’t want either of us dying of exposure out there.”
I could feel my tummy churning with nerves as we started to walk towards Marshall Lane, and desperately hoped I wouldn’t throw up. Dave clearly wanted nothing to do with it, and made his excuses and scuttled off into the night. When we got there Marcus beamed at us and said, “Right, I’ll go first.”
The snow was still slowly drifting down and I was trembling with cold and fear by then. Knowing I was whining, I said, “Marcus, please, this is silly, we’ll both catch our deaths of cold. Let’s just forget it and go and get warm somewhere.”
Marcus had already stripped to the waist, goosebumps bursting out on his flesh. He looked as if he might have agreed with me, but just then bloody Judy chortled, “I’ve got ten quid here that says Cathy’s going to bottle out of it once you’ve done your run Marcus. In fact, let’s all three of us put a tenner in. If you do it Cathy, you get the pot; if you chicken out, Marcus gets it.”
Of course, what I should have done – what I would have done if I hadn’t been more sloshed than ever before after five hours in the pub – was told them both to grow up and stalked off home. As it was, I meekly took ten pounds out of my purse and gave it to Judy to hold. With it being Christmas I was already into my overdraft at the bank, and I couldn’t afford to lose any money. On the other hand, an extra 20 would have just come in handy to tide me over. It did occur to me to suggest that, if Judy was so keen on the challenge going ahead, she get her kit off too and take her turn, but by then Marcus was naked apart from his shoes and socks, standing with his back to us. Teeth chattering, he muttered, “Right, to the bollard at the end of the street and back”, and set off.
Now Marcus is 27, well over six feet tall with long legs and plays soccer and squash. He hurtled down the short street, tapped the bollard with a hand and raced back, his knob bouncing up and down as he ran. As he reached us Judy threw Marcus’ coat around his shoulders and, shivering violently, he kicked off his shoes and grabbed his trousers, as Judy began to rub some warmth back into his upper body and, looking pointedly at his groin, joked about how cold it was. He was still breathing heavily, but he gradually recovered then, silently, the two of them turned and looked expectantly at me.
I don’t think it had really hit me until that moment that I was actually going to do it. Almost in tears of anger and humiliation, I slowly stripped. Even then it didn’t occur to me to do the sensible thing, tell them to sod off and walk away. In minutes I was down to my bra and pants. I’d had to take my shoes off to remove my jeans, with my bare soles on the cobble stones of the lane, and my feet felt like blocks of ice. I unlatched my bra then bent and, feeling the blood rush to my face, slipped my bikini briefs over my training shoes. As I straightened there was a flash of light and Marcus, still pale with cold, was grinning at me and waving his camera phone about. I screeched something at him and made a lunge for it, but he laughed and held it above his head, way out of reach. Realising I was just making things worse I stood back, rubbing my hands up and down my cold body, and snapped, “When I get back here, Marcus, either you wipe that photo or I’ll be wearing your peanut-sized bollocks for ear-rings this Christmas.” And with that I set off on what I thought would be the worst 30 seconds or so of my entire life.
As I approached the end of Marshall Lane, the slap of my feet on the cobbles sounding deafening in my ears, my eyes were caught by another flash. It came from in front of me, and for a split second I thought that someone else had taken a photo of me. Next moment, just as I reached the bollard, a white car nosed into view. A white car with a fluorescent orange and blue stripe down the side, and slowly flashing blue lights on top, and the word ‘POLICE’ stencilled across its bonnet. My heart nearly stopped in terror. I turned to sprint back to my supposed friends, in the hope of getting away, but as I did my foot slipped in the thin layer of snow on the cobbles and I went down, my knee connecting painfully with the road. As I righted myself I heard a strident male voice from behind me call, “Oi, girlie – come ‘ere!”
In blind panic I sprinted in the opposite direction, but as I got halfway up the street I realised that Marcus and Judy were nowhere to be seen. Not only had they fucked off at the sight of the cops, they’d taken my sodding clothes with them. Just as that hit me, a hand wrapped firmly around my bicep and pulled me to a halt, making me slip on the cobbles again and land on my backside with a thump. Sniffling with pain, cold and fear, I looked up into the incredulous face of the female officer who dragged me to my feet. Shaking her head in amazement, she took off her thick jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders, grumbling, “What the bloody hell do you think you’re playing at, it’s sub-zero out here.”
The woman shoved me into the back of the car and slid in beside me. In the light from the street where they were parked I could see she looked somewhere in her 30s, hard-faced with tight blonde curls tucked under her uniform cap. Her male colleague, who appeared 40-ish, squirmed round in the driver’s seat and leaned his elbow on its back while he looked at me. Feeling incredibly self-conscious, I pulled the woman’s jacket tight around me. The car heater was turned up high and I felt warmth gradually begin to seep back into my frozen body. Then the cop in the front seat said, “Right, Lady Godiva, what’s your name?”
The coldness in my body and my fear and shame at my situation combined to render me voiceless. I opened my mouth to reply but nothing came out. The guy sighed then, completely straight-faced, asked, “Okay, miss, have you got any form of identification on you?”
His colleague said, “Yeah, all right, very funny Bob”, but she was grinning as she said it. Then she turned to me and said, “Look love, you’re not doing yourself any favours not giving us your name. Now come on, what is it?”
I finally managed to whisper my name, then Laughing Boy in the front continued, “And do you have any reasonable explanation as to why you were running along a street stark naked at nearly midnight in the snow?”
I felt tears brimming in my eyes, and squeaked, “Please, can you just let me off with a warning or something? I’m a teacher at the comprehensive, I’ll get into all sorts of trouble if you charge me. Please, it was just a silly prank.”
I saw a look pass between the officers, and I thought for a moment that I was going to get away with it. Then ‘Bob’ repeated, in leaden tones, “Just a prank. And you’re a teacher. I’m afraid in that case, Miss Hull, it’s not as straightforward as that. I mean, exposing yourself in the street, that’s a serious criminal offence. If we charge you, well, that means you’re on the Sex Offenders Register, so no more working with children, ever.”
It didn’t even occur to me to wonder if what he said was true. I just thought my career was over, in complete disgrace, and I buried my face in my hands and sobbed. Beside me, the woman hugged me to her and pushed a tissue into my hand but said nothing. Gulping for air I looked at her colleague again and made one more desperate appeal. “Please, my father’s a magistrate, I can’t get a criminal record.”
Bob tutted. “Yes, it wouldn’t do his reputation much good, would it? Not with the publicity – there’s bound to be publicity. He’ll be very proud of you, won’t he.”
Hardly able to speak for crying, I gasped, “Please, I’ll do anything if you let me off. Anything.”
Even as I said it I had no idea what I meant. If it had been two male police officers I suppose I might have realised where it would lead, but not with a man and a woman. They exchanged looks again and I sensed rather than saw the woman give a slight nod. Bob jumped on my words, and said, “Are you offering us a bribe, miss? On top of the charges you’re already facing?”
I shook my head, pawing the tears off my cheeks, and whined, “No, even if I had my purse with me I’m broke. I…oh God!”
They let me howl for a minute or so then, continuing the bad cop-good cop routine, the woman lifted my chin with her hand and said, “Hey, come on Catherine, it’s not that bad, I’m sure we can work something out.” I tried to pull myself together and smile at her. I didn’t think through what she’d said at the time, I just thought she meant they would let me off with no more than a scare.
Turning away from me, Bob lifted his radio mike and said, “Echo Tango three-seven to control, Me and Terri are going on our break now, over.” There was a crackled response, then he started the car and pulled off. Under the impression that I was off the hook, the combination of relief, the warmth in the car and the alcohol I’d consumed started to work on me. I mumbled my address, assuming that was where we were going, then began to drowse.
I’m not sure how long it was before WPC Terri shook me awake. I stared blearily out of the car, and realised that wherever we were it wasn’t my little flat. It was dark and there were indistinct shapes looming around the vehicle. The door next to me opened and Bob took my arm and pulled me none too gently out of my seat. It was very dark, and a bitter wind blew across the open ground on which I was standing, chilling my almost naked body again. Staring around me, I realised I was on one of the half-developed building sites on the edge of town.
Pinching my elbow in his big hand, Bob led me stumbling towards a squat breezeblock building with a yellow light shining from the single window. I felt terrified and totally confused. Bob slammed the entrance door open against the inner wall, and the sole occupant of the single room, an acne-faced kid of about 17, jumped in his chair and hurriedly concealed something in the drawer of the desk he was sitting at. Bob jerked a thumb towards the door and said, “Hello Jimmy, take a walk for half an hour, there’s a good lad.”
Jimmy leapt to his feet, muttered “Yes Mr Gordon”, and scuttled out of the place as if his life depended on it. Terri followed us in and kicked the door shut with her heel.
Bob snatched Terri’s coat off my shoulders and pushed me towards a whitewashed wall, then withdrew a camera from his pocket. “Right Miss Hull, face full front, arms at your sides. Just for our records, you understand.” I felt like pointing out we clearly weren’t in a police station, but I was hardly in a position to argue; after all, I really didn’t want to be in a police station. So I did as he ordered, feeling my face burning with embarrassment. Terri sat on the edge of the desk, watching impassively. After several clicks, Bob said, in a very businesslike tone, “Right, turn 180 degrees.” There were a couple more clicks, then he said, “Good girl. Now, what are you like at sucking cock?”
I spun to face him, one hand over my short brown pubes, the other arm stretched across my boobs, certain I must have misheard him. I stammered, “Sorry? What did you say?”
He sighed, and spoke as if to a rather dim 10-year old. “Blowjobs? You know? Fellatio? Oh shit, don’t tell me you’re a virgin, not at your age.”
I squealed “Of course I’m not.” I stared at him in total disbelief. “Look…you’ve got to be kidding. I mean, this is a joke, right?” Bob just stared at me, as he might an inconvenient spider in the bath. I shook my head, my jaw dropping in shock. “No…I’m sorry but, you can’t be serious. I’m not going to…do that for you. You can’t make me!” I stared at Terri, expecting her to intervene in her colleague’s disgusting behaviour. She simply crossed her arms and stared back at me, raising an eyebrow questioningly.
Bob shrugged and said, “Very true, miss, I can’t make you do anything. Catherine Hull, I am arresting you on charges of indecent exposure, attempting to pervert the course of justice, lewd and…”
“All right!” My shriek filled the room before being absorbed by the breezeblocks. More quietly, feeling as if I was about to faint, I repeated, “All right. I’ll do…whatever you want, just so long as you promise me I won’t be arrested.”
Terri picked up a blanket I hadn’t noticed before, which I assumed she must have brought in from the car, and laid it on the floor, near a two-bar electric fire. Bob grinned. “You play ball, sweetheart, and WPC Simmonds and I have never set eyes on you before.”
As he said it he manoeuvred me onto my knees on the blanket, facing the wall. Despite the blanket and the carpet tiles beneath it the floor felt very hard, and I felt a sharp pain in the knee I’d bashed earlier on. Bob stepped in front of me, leant against the wall, and motioned for me to undo his trousers. The truth was I hadn’t had any sort of sexual contact with a man for nearly a year; Bob was at least a foot taller than me and, as I fumbled down his trousers and boxer shorts with trembling hands, his semi-erect cock looked enormous, both long and thick. I glanced at Terri again. She was sitting in the desk chair, presumably about to get off on watching her partner abuse a prisoner. I looked up at his face and whispered, “Please”. His response was quite simply to place a hand on top of my head and pull me towards him.
Closing my eyes in revulsion I took a deep breath and closed my lips over the tip of his tool. Then I slid slowly down it, as far as I could. I haven’t sucked many dicks, and Bob’s was certainly the biggest. I couldn’t get it all in before the tip jabbed against the back of my throat, making me gag for a moment. I pulled back slightly and cupped a hand under his scrotum, using the thumb and forefinger to pump the base of his shaft. I was using the other hand on the floor, to keep my balance. Bob gave a small moan of pleasure then, in a husky voice, said, “Use your tongue, darlin’.” Obediently I started licking along the underside of his dick, as I slid my lips and my hand up and down him. He stiffened very quickly, and began to twitch his hips back and forth in a rhythm matching the movements of my mouth. I decided that if I was going to do this vile thing I was going to make a good job of it, to make sure he didn’t double-cross me. I twirled my tongue around the very tip of his knob and he groaned and said, “Fuck, that’s nice. You’ll have to teach Terri that one.”
I had almost forgotten Terri, but at that moment I felt a pair of strong hands grasp my thighs and push them wider apart. I almost jumped off the floor as a finger stroked firmly along my slit, then wormed its way inside. I squealed in surprise, then felt another finger move in, as Terri started to finger fuck me. Despite the horrendous situation in which I found myself I felt my pussy beginning to warm up, and I slipped my knees still further apart to give her better access to me. She removed her fingers from inside me, but a moment later hands grasped my thighs and a tongue licked my snatch, sending such a jolt of electricity through me that I more or less fell against Bob. In moments Terri was pulling me down onto her face, lapping her tongue deep into me as I sucked on Bob’s prick.
I’d never had the slightest interest in women until that moment, but all I knew was that the most wonderful feelings were travelling the length of my body from what this particular woman was doing to my pussy. As she pushed a finger into my bum and began to ream it around – a new experience for me – the feeling was so strong that I couldn’t concentrate anymore on what I was doing with my mouth. I was worried I might even lose control and bite down on Bob, so I disengaged my lips from him and rested my head against his belly, eyes closed and gasping as Terri drove me to the edge of release. I could feel Bob’s cock pressing against the underside of my chin, and I kept stroking it with one hand, but one long, constant groan of pleasure was escaping from me as Terri sucked, licked and stroked my cunt, and continued to ream my bum. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and, screaming into Bob’s groin, I jerked spasmodically as I crashed into orgasm, Terri licking me wildly and pulling me down hard onto her with both hands.
Even after I subsided Terri continued to lick at me for a while. Then I rolled onto my side and curled into a foetal position. Suddenly I remembered that the whole point of what I had been doing, in an attempt to avoid arrest, was to suck Bob off, and I hadn’t succeeded in that. With a nervous twang in my voice I looked at him and said, “Oh God, I’m sorry, let me try again, please…”
He ruffled my hair, almost affectionately, and said, “That’s okay. We haven’t got long, and if I shoot in your gob I won’t have time to fuck you.” I hadn’t realised that was part of the deal, and asked if he had a condom. He chuckled at that, and muttered “You’ll just have to get a morning after pill.” Resigned by then to whatever was going to happen to me I was just about to roll onto my back when I saw Terri had beaten me to it. Her uniform trousers and a pair of tiny pink panties were around one ankle, and her legs were spread wide apart, displaying pink lips shining through a patch of reddish blonde hair.
Bob started to push my face towards Terri and raise my bum in the air and I understood what was meant to be happening. Nervously, I mumbled, “Er, Terri, I’ve never, I mean…”
She murmured, “That’s okay love, you’ll soon get the hang of it”, then placed her hand on the back of my head and pushed my face into her twat. I licked her carefully, and sensed a musky, exciting taste on my tongue. My next lick was firmer, and Terri said “Mmm”, and wiggled her hips in appreciation. That was the moment when Bob grabbed my hips and slid his cock into me, right to the top. Omigod, it was the biggest thing I’d ever had inside me! He began fucking me hard, with long, rapid strokes, his balls flapping against me. With each thrust he pushed my face harder onto Terri’s gash, which she seemed to enjoy. I located her clit and touched it with my tongue, making her squeal and push up at me. After that I concentrated my mouth on her clit and used my fingers to stir her pussy around.
I was rapidly heating up again as Bob fucked me, and I was also finding eating Terri out far more arousing than I’d expected. I’d only been at it for a couple of minutes when she started gasping, “Oh baby, oh Jesus, oh shit”, and thrust up at me several times. She squeezed her thighs on my head and I felt her cunt muscles tighten around my fingers as she tangled her hand in my hair and pushed my face hard onto her. The realisation that I’d made her cum was enough to set me off, gasping into Terri’s pussy and squirming on Bob’s prick and, like a chain reaction, he gave a roar and began slamming at me as he shot a fountain of spunk into me. That set me off again, then I collapsed onto Terri and Bob collapsed onto me, still half inside me.
Thankfully they didn’t charge me with anything. They found me a massive pair of workman’s overalls in one of the desk drawers, then drove me back to my place. Just before I got out of the car, on distinctly shaky legs, Terri pulled my face to hers and crushed our lips together, her tongue ravishing the inside of my mouth while her hand slipped into the overalls and squeezed my little boob.
When I got back to school in the new year I was worried that Judy Preece, the bitch, might try to make trouble for me over my streak. In fact, both she and Marcus were almost in tears with apologies to me, and between them repaid the fifty pounds spot fine I told them the police had charged me, and a bit more. (Well, they owed me something, pair of bastards!) I also thought a lot about my encounter with PCs Gordon and Simmonds. I’ve just spoken to Terri on the phone. I told her I had some interesting information for her if she wanted to call round to my flat this evening; she seemed very keen. I have absolutely no idea what I’m going to tell her, but I’m sure I’ll think of something!