The Birthday Party


This is the latest of the adventures of Rebecca, although she takes a backseat in this one. This is set in 1980 Birmingham so no social media, no internet, no smartphones so characters can be more confident about not being found out. Also, the assumptions of the characters reflect the attitudes of that time.

A word of warning. I have deliberately chosen to have longish introductions, including back story and development of the underlying story and some flirtation before serious sexual activity takes place. That reflects my own preference in stories, but YMMV. I also prefer to have my characters consider the implications of their actions before saying what the heck, let’s go for it.

This is the first of two stories happening at the same party. This is the more romantic one and the other will be more lust based.

Reviews are welcomed. Obviously I am more likely to listen to those which say some things worked, but I could improve the story by doing X or Y differently. I have no problem with being told that I put the story in the wrong section.


Julian had still not decided if he was looking forward to his joint birthday party tonight. It was the first big birthday party of the school year and more importantly it was the first one after most of last year’s upper sixth had left for university. This meant that the women in his year were looking for new boyfriends.

Last year had been the first year his school had admitted women into the sixth form and the upper sixth had in effect had first dibs on the girls in his year. More of them drove and they were allowed to drink in pubs. Over the summer and during the first two weeks of September a lot of these relationships had broken up. Many had not been that serious and others had simply recognised the reality that relationships were unlikely to survive the other person being at college. Others without explicitly breaking up had been left on the basis that they could each go on dates with other people.

Officially it was a joint birthday party with George Latimer, Claire Burrow, and the new girl Bess Martin. They had all turned 18 over the last month apart from Bess who was now 19. Julian had no illusions that the reason he had been co-opted as a host was not because he and George were close friends. They had been until the end of the fifth form but had drifted apart since.

The main reason was because he actually had become friends with the women in their year and they were more willing to accept an invitation from him than George. George was a little arrogant and condescending. While this attracted some, many reacted badly to it.

In addition, as he was friends with Claire it had made it easier to persuade her to be a joint host and to invite her friends and most of the lower sixth girls. It was a relief to him as his parents had decided that after his middle brother had held a sixth form party two years ago which had got slightly out of control, they were not going to allow him to hold one at their home. As his dad had explained they had recently redecorated and recarpeted the house and he was dammed if he was going to do so again for another five years.

Dad had agreed to fund a generous amount of alcohol for a party held elsewhere which had also helped seal the deal with George. Claire’s parents had supplied nibbles and party cans of beer for a similar reason as his parents. He was not certain what the deal was with Bess. George had said that he wanted to make her feel welcome at the school. Julian’s own suspicion was that George was setting his sights on her.

One problem he foresaw was that there would be too much competition for the women who had just become available for romance and perhaps more. In particular there would be too much competition for Claire’s affections.

He had been attracted to her for the last three terms. She was intelligent, good natured and had a lovely smile. She also had a wiggle in the walk which meant that most of the boys in his year had walked into each other or even into doors because they were watching her rear rather than where they were going. She also had, not to beat around the bush, gorgeous big tits. She was about five foot four and her breasts looked like they belonged to someone six inches taller.

He felt guilty that his go to wanking fantasy was taking her from behind with his hands squeezing her tits. He felt bad about thinking about his friend like that, but it was the truth. At least when speaking to her, he looked her in the eye.

To take his mind off worrying about the party he had gone to the cinema to see John Hurt and Anthony Hopkins in the Elephant Man after he and his dad had dropped off the wine boxes, beer bottles, bottles of Cinzano and Campari, R. Whites lemonade and Pimms at George’s house. The cinema was reasonably full for a Saturday matinee considering it was a slightly arty film in black and white. He had brought some popcorn to eat during the Bolu Escort adverts and trailers.

He was surprised when someone sat down next to him despite the fact that there were plenty of spare seats. He decided to ignore the intruder and continued to eat his popcorn. After a couple of minutes, the lights went down.

At the end of the first advert, he suddenly felt something against his lower leg. He looked down to see a pair of stockinged legs crossed with the dress high up on the hips. A stockinged foot was next to his ankles. He had heard stories that local prostitutes would come up to unaccompanied men in cinemas and offer to jerk them off for a couple of quid but had not credited them until now. Anyway, it sounded more the sort of thing which happened in the Jacey cinema on Station Street during the “continental” films rather than the Odeon.

He decided to call her bluff and put a hand on her knee and squeezed. He looked down and saw that the skirt had ridden higher up the thighs and the woman had parted her legs. He gulped, balanced the popcorn between his legs and put his right hand on the stockinged leg nearest him halfway up the thigh. The woman responded by crossing the other leg over and trapping his hand between her thighs. She also put her hand in his popcorn.

He did not look at the woman’s face but raised his left hand and put it round her shoulders. The woman made no objection and he decided to pull her closer to him. There was no resistance.

He closed his eyes and imagined the girl was Claire. He bent his neck and tried to kiss her. She opened her lips, and he began to snog her. Her legs parted again freeing his hand. At the same time one of her hands played with his hair.

He was tempted to move his right hand further up her thighs, but he was a breast man. He reached upwards and started squeezing her breasts. As the adverts turned into the trailers, he undid the top two buttons of the thin summer dress and slipped his hand into her bra. He released the lips in order to breathe and whispered involuntarily, “Oh Claire.”

The girl laughed and said, “Well, Jules, that answers two questions I’ve been wondering about. You are a randy bugger who would stoke the fireplace without looking at the mantlepiece and you fantasise about Claire. Best stop now, though.”

He opened his eyes and found that the girl was his classmate Rebecca. She smiled at him, “Sorry if I got your hopes up. I just wondered how long you would ignore me for and then decided to tease you. Still kissing me before you’d even looked at my face made me realise that you are more of a sex beast then we all thought, and I began to wonder whether you’d realised it was me. I thought that you were playing chicken with me and seeing how far I would go before I bottled it.”

She put her hand in his popcorn and took some for herself and winked at him. He decided to laugh at himself. Rebecca was another good friend of his, although he found her rather intimidating. There had been some stories about her at the start of last year, but the consensus was that they had been exaggerated. Certainly, it was generally known that she had walked fifteen miles home rather than be bonked by one of last year’s upper sixth. The man had been expelled officially for drunk driving, but again rumours suggested that the real reason was because he had tried to blackmail her by refusing to take her home until she let him fuck her up the arse.

She said, “Let’s have a drink afterwards.”

The film started and it was very good indeed. As they walked out of the cinema, he looked at her properly. For some reason best known to herself, at school she dressed in what looked like a normal school uniform despite the dress code for the sixth form allowing smart casual. Tonight, she was wearing a thin summer dress with stockings.

They went into the wine bar. He checked the time. There was two hours before he needed to be at the party. While officially it started at 7, it was unlikely that many people would be there until 7.30 and he wanted to avoid spending too much time speaking with George or his older sister Joanna while they waited for the guests to arrive.

He ordered a bottle of Yugoslav Lutomer Laski Riesling and sat down at a table. The room was quite dark and an empty bottle of Mateus Rose with a candle in it provided the main lighting.

They first discussed the film. Both of them had been impressed by John Hurt. Rebecca reminded him that the actor had done a TV film called The Naked Civil Servant about a man who had decided not to disguise the fact that he was homosexual in the 1940s. They both agreed that Quentin Crisp was braver than they were. She had also made the point that flaunting his sexuality had not necessarily been good for his sex life.

Julian was still feeling embarrassed and apologised for mistaking her for a prostitute. She laughed and said, “Fair enough mistake to make. Certainly, Joanna is going to call me one before the evening’s Bolu Escort Bayan over. Anyway, now I know that you can’t wait to get your end away, it’s time to get you ready for your mission.”

“My mission?”

“Getting rid of your image as being the epitome of the three deadly Ds.”


“Decent, devoted, and dependable. You’ll make someone a marvellous boyfriend if you can only learn to be a little more exciting. Specifically, you and Claire should make a go of it.”

“But she can do better than me. She’s out of my league.”

“Faint heart ne’er won fair lady. She speaks to you every day and smiles when she does so. She likes you.”

“As a friend.”

“When have you ever given her a clue that you want to be more than a friend? Your problem, Jules, is that you give off confusing signals. You are friends with so many girls that none of them thinks that you are particularly interested in them. Just remember that the girls in our year are almost as horny as you are and at least as shy as you are. Flaunting our sexuality is bad for our reputations.”

“You didn’t seem shy two hours ago.”

“Everyone half thinks I am a semi-pro anyway. Besides which you were braver than I expected you to be. I thought you would bottle it rather than try and get my tits out. You are avoiding the issue, what are you going to do about you and Claire? You need a plan of campaign for tonight.”

He made various weird noises which she laughed at.

She then said, “I know what. I will be your wingman tonight. Actually, wing woman.”

“So, you are coming tonight?”

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He blushed as he realised the double meaning. She laughed at him again and then answered the question.

“Yes, I want to watch the hunt. Besides which there will be enough single women around, so I won’t get hassled like last year.”

“What will you do as my wing woman?”

“That would be telling. Anyway, tell me who you think your rivals tonight will be?”

He outlined the main four. There would probably be more who would like to be, but most of the others were as timid as he was. There was Richard, the sportsman who felt that he could step into the gap left by Claire’s ex-boyfriend who had been captain of both the Rugby and the Cricket team. There was Mark the aesthete who was both pretentious and academically bright. There was the cheeky chappie Joe who made people laugh and the brooding arts student William who was also incredibly good looking.

She nodded. She took out a notebook and made notes which rather disconcerted him.

She then turned to him again and said, “First lesson, Jules. Act as though you think you are worth loving. Not arrogant, but more like you know you have something to offer. Women are as insecure as men and how can you expect a girl to go out with a man who does not respect himself? You are in the top quarter intellectually despite being a lazy git and the top 10% by personality. Behave as though you believe in yourself.”

He thought about this statement and recognised that after having shared half a bottle of wine with Rebecca it was fundamentally true.

“Ok, Becca. I will try and behave that way.”

“Second, watch how much you drink this evening. I am frankly mystified as to how teetotallers ever reproduce, but there is a fine line between having enough alcohol inside you to be brave and having so much that you make a fool of yourself.”

“OK, coach, I can see what you mean.”

She looked at him and said, “Mind you, Jules, I think we each need a glass more before we leave. If I am going to be your wing woman I need a little more Dutch courage as well.”

He laughed and said, “Ok, I presume I’m paying for these.”

“Of course, look upon it as my fee. Third, change clothes before you arrive at the party. We both stink of tobacco now. Most of our year are non-smokers and while by the end of the evening those who do smoke will have passed on the smell to the rest of us, best not starting off like that.”

“I get that. Claire doesn’t smoke so I’m best off not letting her think that I do. What else?”

“Fourth, arrive at the party with me. You can say we met at the cinema or on the bus out of Brum but make her think she has competition. Me and her get on well with each other, but we are quite different. With luck, she will want to save you from me or at least realise that she does not want you to be in a relationship with anyone but her.”

After they had finished the bottle and he had bought the two extra glasses he asked her. “Why are you helping me?”

“I like both you and Claire and I think you will be good for each other.”

She looked at him again and said, “Fifth, and this is more of a suggestion than a definite recommendation. Dress smartly. Jacket and shirt rather than jeans and tee shirt. I certainly think men look better that way and I suspect Claire does as well. Besides which it makes you look different”

She then Escort Bolu paused, “By the way, if you have 50p on you go to the gents and buy a packet of three. Best to be prepared.” She checked her purse “I can change a pound if you do not.”

He blushed but took the advice.

They took the bus back. Julian agreed to come round to the house she lived in with her mother’s friend to collect her.

He showered and got changed. He brushed his teeth and had a Trebor mint or two to disguise his breath and looked at himself in the mirror. On the way out his mother looked at him and sighed. “Julian, you look so much like your father at your age. Anyway, have a wonderful time tonight and if you can’t be good, be careful.”

She then winked at him. He kissed her on the cheek to hide his blushes. Logically his father and mother had had sex at least four times, but it was not an image he felt comfortable with. He went round to the address Rebecca had given him and rang the doorbell.

An attractive older women answered the doorbell. She was wearing a dressing gown which stopped mid-thigh. She said, “You must be Julian. I’m Marion. Becca will be ready in a minute or two. I’m afraid I rather hogged the shower. Do you want a G&T?”

He nodded assent and was shown into the living room. He sat down on the sofa and a minute later she came in with two glasses. She handed one to him and he got a good look at her ample cleavage. He gulped and took a large mouthful of his drink. She then sat opposite him and crossed her legs slowly.

“So, you’re a friend of Becca’s? You look like your older brother. James was it?”

Julian tried to deal with the thought that this woman knew James and the equally disturbing question of how she knew him.

“I’ve been told that.”

Just then Rebecca came in. She was dressed in a short black skirt, a tight-fitting jumper, and stockings.

“Just as well I came in now, Marion Robinson. Julian let’s be off while you still have your trousers on.”

Julian with a mixture of relief and regret stood up and said, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Robinson.”

The older woman stood up, “Come round any time. If Rebecca isn’t in I can entertain you until she’s back.” The woman winked at him.

After they were outside the door, she looked at him and said, “Sorry about that. I thought that she would have already gone out for the evening. Still, you were clearly good for her morale. She honestly does not do that with every man who walks in the house. Actually, would you have preferred it if I had left you with a bit longer?”

He ignored the last question and said, “She said she knew my brother.”

“Don’t worry. It was the night of the long walk. He was here to save the honour of the school.”

He did not know what to say to that. She caught his embarrassment. “No problem, it was also the best call for me. Being cross examined as to my morals and being accused of simply haggling about the price would not have been good for my reputation.”

He blushed again and said, “James never said anything. Most of us believed that you had called Alex’s bluff and walked home because he did not behave like a gentleman.”

“Sweet of you to say so. It happens to be the truth.”

“Are you after anyone tonight?”

“No. I will be studying too hard for the Oxford entrance exam to have time for a boyfriend, and I don’t want to be the school bicycle at parties. Still keep that to yourself tonight, especially with Claire.”

As they approached the front door of the Latimer home, she slipped a hand under his arm. They rang the doorbell, and it was answered by Joanna and Bess. Bess gave him a hug. “Welcome to your own party, Julian.”

She then turned to Rebecca, “And who is your guest?”

Joanna laughed, “It’s the Tart dressed for business.” One of the more misogynistic teachers had taken delight in calling the register using initials and surname and drawing attention to the unfortunate juxtaposition of initials. George and his cronies had taken to calling her Tart for a month or so afterwards until the joke grew stale. Joanna still found it funny.

Bess looked again, “Oh. Sorry Rebecca, I did not recognise you. You should dress more like this at school. Can we talk later? Joanna says that you have a lot to teach me about what men like.”

Julian felt embarrassed. He knew Joanna hated Rebecca but could not tell whether Bess was being insulting or not. Bess was academically bright but had previously been at an all-girls school.

Claire then joined the throng. She was wearing jeans and a tight jumper. She looked at him and smiled. “Jules, you are fashionably late to your own party.” She air-kissed Rebecca and said, “Let’s get a drink.”

The three of them made their way to the kitchen and shared some wine from a wine box which had been kept in the fridge. Claire placed another wine box in the fridge for later.

Claire then said, “Are you two together?” Julian tried to convince himself that she sounded disappointed, but then denied it to himself.

Rebecca said, “No, just met at the cinema and Julian agreed to arrive at the same time as me. I rather expected Joanna would be putting the knife in.”

Julian said, “Wasn’t expecting Bess to join in.”

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