From Fantasy to Reality

This story was written without any enhancement from AI. All characters are over 18 and any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.

This is the first part of a longer work that will be released in parts to make editing more manageable.

~~~Part one~~~

---The Camden flat---

Another night, another true crime podcast to try and drown out the sound of bed springs and moaning above my head. It would probably be more effective if I had a decent set of headphones but it's better than nothing.

If I'd known Sarah was going to be such a slut again this year, I would have made more of an effort to claim the upstairs room, even if it is smaller and at street level. I lost the coin flip for it fair and square but I'm sure I could have argued my case better.

I lived with Sarah last year too but we were just two of six in a larger house share then. This year, just the two of us have moved into a shared lower level flat in a row of Victorian terraced houses in Camden ahead of our final year of university. Even as a flat it's fairly basic. Four rooms split between street level and a basement; two bedrooms, a tiny kitchen diner and a bathroom. Between us we can hardly afford it but despite the small size and high cost, we love having a place all to ourselves.

Sarah's been my best friend since the very first weeks of uni just over two years ago. She lived down the corridor from me in halls and saved me from some really pervy guys that wouldn't get the message at freshers events in those first few weeks. She stands at a petite five foot one but if you get on the wrong side of her she's fierce. I've seen over six foot rugby players back down if she takes issue with them.

Between the nights out, we bonded over both coming from up north and feeling somewhat out of place now being in London. It wasn't long until we were practically inseparable and never looked back.

In many ways, even back then she was the polar opposite of me. She arrived at uni with a boyfriend back home, body confidence and the alcohol tolerance of someone about twice her size. Comparatively, I was single, shy and felt woozy after anything more than a few weak alcoholic drinks.

It was maybe six months into the first year when the distance got the better of Sarah's relationship. She was a shadow of herself for a while but since then, it seems she's steadily working her way through the male population of London. Come to think of it, I really should have known better than to ever consider taking the downstairs room.

In the month since we've moved into the new flat, she's managed to convince me to go out with her most nights. The usual routine starts as a suggestion that it's purely a girls night with just the two of us, maybe some of our other uni friends at most. After varying amounts of time at a bar it turns into, those guys over there are so hot, chatting to them won't hurt. We chat to them, I try my best to flirt, with wildly mixed results, while she has them wrapped around her finger in no time. After doing that for a while, I usually want to leave first. Often because flirting hasn't gone so great and I feel so awkward I want to crawl out of my skin. Otherwise, because I either can't afford or handle another drink.

There's always a slight barb from Sarah. Something along the lines of "Oh Jen, you don't want to disappoint (insert the name that night here) and leave early do you?" There's a little back and forth of how I'm not trying to disappoint anyone. Which she usually miraculously solves by deciding to invite them back to the flat to 'keep drinking'. To be fair to her, I've hooked up with a handful of guys following that plan so I can't complain too much. She should probably have some kind of award for proficient wing womaning.

However, some of the times the guys come back with us, I have a change of heart or get nervous and scurry off back to the safety of my room. At that point, the guy I was chatting to tends to leave frustrated and disappointed. To be a people pleaser (clearly not for her own benefit whatsoever) Sarah has managed to talk her way into both of them staying with her a couple of times. The first I know about it is usually three sets of footsteps walking on the ceiling followed by an extended period of creaking and moaning voices.

I could probably never admit it to her, I'd likely die of shame, but some of those nights where both guys stay, I skip the podcast and listen to her up there with both of them. As the muffled voices die out and the other noises start, I find my hand sliding down into my shorts, rubbing my pussy to the rhythm of their sex. Not so much to the thought of my friend being up there but more fantasising about it being me up there with those men. Of my body being used by them for their pleasure. Ironic really when I'm touching myself in my room alone because I got too shy for one of them to be my own hook up.

Invariably, as much as I try to avoid it, I'll have an awkward encounter with an at least partially naked man somewhere in the house the next morning. Sarah will fill me in on as much detail about her latest conquest as I'll let her tell me. How big they were, did they know how to use it, had they already asked to see her again, had they struggled to perform and if it was someone I'd been chatting too at the bar, how much I had or hadn't missed out. I pay particular attention to the details if it was a threesome. So that I can try to figure out how close what I imagined as I laid below was to the real event.

Quite honestly, sometimes I could probably satisfy my sex drive just by living vicariously through her. Her sexcapades are as good as any steamy novel and I don't crave sex nearly as much as her.

In our second year, I had a relationship that lasted for a couple of months with a guy called Josh. He was hot but when I think about it, we never really did much outside of having sex. That being my only significant relationship to date, I ticked off most of what I consider the traditionally taboo things with him. Having sex outside, sending dirty pictures at inconvenient times, trying anal, some light BDSM you get the jist.

Up until last month, I thought that those few months with Josh had ticked off most of the sexually adventurous stuff that felt I needed to try to not be missing out. I'd consider myself a fairly vanilla girl in general but now I was starting to question that. Those nights spent touching myself while listening to threesomes seemed to be awakening something in me I hadn't known was there.

Maybe it's just because the final year of uni isn't far off or I'm just feeling a little more horny than normal. But on this random Tuesday morning, I suddenly have the thought that if I don't take my chances to explore these new fantasies that are forming this year, maybe I never will. It's time to admit them aloud.

--Making the confession--

I'm sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast as I hear the front door open and Sarah saying some fairly awkward goodbyes to her latest visitors.

A few moments later, she walks into the kitchen with a serious case of bed head. Her dirty blonde hair is short, barely shoulder length, but it looks matted and tangled with some impressive volume happening on one side. Her face is free of make up but she still has a glow about her and I'm forever jealous of how good her skin is. She has an oval face with big brown eyes above a small button nose and full lips. She's wearing an oversized hoody that hides her petite but muscular body completely except for her bare legs that have a beautiful golden shade to them.

"Morning," I mumble at her through a mouthful of corn flakes.

"Oh, hey. Didn't realise you were already up. Sorry if there was some noise last night," she says without blushing. She's not embarrassed to be heard but at least she's trying to be a courteous friend.

"Oh don't worry about it. I got my headphones on before things really got started," I lie.

"Good, I was worried we'd keep you up. One of them was huge, I just couldn't keep quiet!" she says with a bit of a smirk. "You look thoughtful, what's on your mind?" she adds as she slips onto the stool next to me and grabs a banana for breakfast.

"Well..." My words trail off nervously. It's ridiculous, if anyone in my life is going to understand these new fantasies, it's Sarah.

"Come on, spit it out," she insists.

"Okay, okay. I've been thinking how... ermmmm... maybe I should be living a little more adventurously while I can," I say. Mentally preparing myself for what's coming.

"Yes girl! I knew I'd break you eventually," smirks Sarah. "So, what are you classing as adventurous?" she asks while she suggestively licks along the banana and winks at me.

I've got her full attention now, this is clearly peaking her interest. "Right yeah, about that. You know how I've always sworn by being fairly dull and vanilla? Well, how pissed off would you be if that turned out to be not entirely true?" I say, stalling.

"Shut the front door! I wouldn't be pissed off at all. Just a little confused. You turn down sex when it's there on a plate sometimes, what gives?"

"Well, I get awkward and self conscious, that shouldn't be much of a surprise to you by now," I admit. I can feel my blood rising and adding a bit of colour to my cheeks.

Sarah thinks for a second "Okay, that I can sort of follow, if not fully understand. But quit stalling. When you say adventurous, what are we talking about?"

I stare down into my cereal. Putting something out into the real world that's only recently formed in your own head is unnerving, even with someone you trust completely.

Sarah is getting increasingly impatient and gives my arm a nudge. "Come on then, you can't tease me with this big revelation and then hold out on me!"

I take a deep breath and say "Okay fine. I think I want to be used as an object for pleasure. I want someone, preferably multiple people, to use me however they want and I have no control over it."

Unusually, Sarah is silent for a few moments before saying, "Ok, I have questions."

Now that I've said the words, the shame I've held on to around the thought is lessened slightly. I swallow my cereal and look at her, "Well, in for a penny in for a pound, ask away."

I think she has a sudden realisation that she might have sparked this new interest and asks, "How long has this been in your head?"

"I think it always was to some degree but it really took hold last year," I say. It's not entirely true but I hardly want to admit that actually, listening to her threesomes has really clarified it for me. "I've just never had the confidence to voice it until now."

"Ok, ok, that tracks with the shyness," she nods. Saving me from being forced into an admission of the truth. She continues, "You said someone or multiple people. Does 'someone' mean not exclusively men? and is multiple 2, 20, 200?"

"There'd definitely have to be mostly men I think. At least that's how I've pictured it. I've never done anything more than kiss a woman so I'd have to explore that more privately before considering there being other women involved.

As for multiple, probably just two initially. But if I enjoy it as much as I expect, maybe more in the future," I answer.

"I see, well two sounds very doable. It'll just be figuring out if they'd be into it beforehand might be tricky," she replies pensively. I can see the cogs turning in her head how she could make it happen. She returns to her questions, "So, the object part. Are you thinking like an airhead fuckdoll, just a sex toy with holes to use, a free use situation or something else?"

"Erm, of those I'd probably have to say a sex toy with holes to use. I don't think I want to interact with them other than to pleasure them. I haven't really considered it other ways but I guess it's the idea of someone else having total control of my body that does it for me." I answer.

"Hmm, interesting," she nods. "Ok, the last two for now. Does it have to involve someone you trust? And when are we going to do something about this?"

Surprised by these questions I reply, "Honestly, it's exciting to think about everyone being total strangers and seems logistically easier but I guess that is risky. I want to fulfil a fantasy but not be traumatised trying.

Regarding when, as I hadn't uttered any of this out loud until a couple of minutes ago, 'when' never really seriously crossed my mind."

"Interesting. Sounds to me like you've still got some details to figure out. Who'd have thought shy little Jen had such a dirty secret. Have I moved in with a slut?" She chuckles.

That makes me almost spit out my cereal. Exasperated, I reply, "I'm sorry what? You've had us out on the prowl almost every night since we moved in here and brought guys back most of those times. I admit one fantasy and I'm the slut?"

She's quick to reply, "Well, you're not wrong there. But I just crave a good fuck without all the obligation a relationship brings. Other than the occasional extra person of late, the actual sex is nothing particularly kinky."

I nod sarcastically at that. "Let it be known, threesomes are no longer kinky. Men's fantasies worldwide have just got a step closer."

"Fine, you've got me on that one," she admits. "But in my defence, I've not deliberately sought them out. I've got you to thank for them."

"Oh what a struggle that must be for you," I add sarcastically.

"What can I say? I'm just a people pleaser," She says with a smile.

I nod my head, "Mhmm ye, nothing to do with getting double the cock I'm sure."

"Well, it has its upsides," she says while stretching her arms upwards. "Anyway, I best go make myself presentable, I've got volunteering soon. I'll leave you to figure out the specifics of what you want saucy minx," She says, giving me a nudge in the arm as she gets up.

Sarah gets a monthly allowance off her parents which is enough for her to get by. She's decided for now that volunteering makes her look better on her CV than working some irrelevant minimum wage job. It must be nice to have the option.

"I'm going to regret my little confession here, aren't I?" I say blushing slightly.

She puts her hand on my shoulder and looks me in the eyes, "Oh I doubt it. You wouldn't have told me if you weren't sure that you actually want it to happen. I just want to make sure you've fully thought about what it is you want."

"Wanting and doing are two very different things," I add.

"True. But knowing what you want is step one," she says as she slips off her stool and throws the banana skin in the bin. Heading out the door she leaves me saying, "A few drinks tonight though yeah?"

She's out of the door by the time I have a chance to respond. I consider shouting after her but nothing witty comes to mind.

Well, I've done it now. It's no longer just a secret locked inside my head. I best come up with some answers or she'll be insufferable. I also get the feeling Sarah will be conspiring to make sure that I find out if the fantasy is as good as I imagine in the not too distant future.

--Act normal--

I keep Sarah's questions in the back of my mind as I go for my shift stocking shelves in Tesco. It's an incredibly mundane job but without an allowance from my parents, the bills don't pay themselves. At least the shop is only five minutes walk from the flat so it's not an ordeal to get there.

I don't know if it's deliberate but their uniform always feels overly tight. The trousers really hug onto everything from the knees up. I like how it makes my thighs look but it leaves nothing about my bum to the imagination and my bum isn't even that big. If I wear anything other than a thong it makes my underwear outline very clearly visible. Thankfully, I've never struggled with them giving me a camel toe but I've definitely noticed that it's a problem for some of the other women.

My real problem though, is with the shirts. I've been blessed with a big rack and even with a sports bra on, it's almost impossible to not look like they are making a break for freedom. I try to wear the fleece to keep them covered but sometimes it's just too damn hot. Today the sun's shining and it's thirty degrees out so the fleece just isn't going to work. After our extended chat in the kitchen I was so distracted that I only put a normal bra on by accident. I can only pray that those couple of buttons that are fighting for their lives, make it through the day or people are going to get an eyeful.

I think I've met most of the team here now after a few weeks' work. Although it changes all the time. It's predominantly a mixture of students trying to afford living in the city and a few older staff who do it for some companionship as far as I can tell. I get on well with them all. I've noticed some of the younger guys find excuses to come see me at times which is flattering but honestly most of the time I prefer finding out about the older staff, they've had such interesting lives.

I'm a couple of hours into the shift and one of the young guys is, not so subtly, eyeing me up while I restock the crisp aisle when I find my mind wandering back to Sarah's questions. In particular, do I need someone that I trust to be there with me? At a pure fantasy level, of course not. It detracts from being completely at the mercy of someone else. But real life isn't as easy as fantasy so it's probably something that is needed.

I also think about the list of people I know that are trusted and would potentially be willing to be present in such a scenario. The list is very short. It's Sarah. As much as she's my best friend and I trust her with anything, I just can't picture her being there. She is beautiful and if I was going to be with a woman she would absolutely be my first choice. But I think she cares too much about me to see me truly be treated like nothing more than an object. Plus there are limits that even a supportive friendship probably shouldn't cross.

Maybe it's the eyes on my body or delving deeper into the details of my new found fantasy but, I suddenly realise I'm far more turned on than I should be at work. I glance down and see that my shirt is so tight that even through my bra, the points of my nipples are right there on display. The young guy watching follows my gaze down and also spots this. He suddenly looks a lot more nervous than he was before, like he wouldn't know what to do with himself if he got what he wanted. His shyness takes away some of the excitement that's growing between my legs.

Then I spot an older guy, probably in his forties, pushing a trolley up the aisle doing his shopping and a smile turns up the side of his mouth as he looks at me. I feel completely naked under his gaze and now it's my turn to be shy. I look away and focus on stacking family size bags of Doritos onto the shelf at chest height in front of me. I must be moving more panicked than I thought because as I reach down and back, one of the buttons I was worried about pings right off my shirt and lands a few feet away. There's now an open window that looks right into my cleavage that isn't hidden by this bra.

When I dare to glance back down the aisle, he's still looking at me and now he's heading right at me. I pull at the buttons in some desperate hope that the shirt will lie closed but my tits are still there and it doesn't. I'm barely finished faffing with it when he comes right up to me.

"Excuse me...," he glances down to look at my name tag and gets a great view of my exposed cleavage at the same time. He looks back up with a knowing smile, "Jenny, do you have any of the World Cup special flavours in yet?"

I'm so flustered, his words barely register. "Sorry, any of the what?"

He sniggers a little. "The Doritos, they are bringing out some special flavours for the World Cup, does this shop have them yet?"

I finally grasp his simple question. "Oh, I didn't know about that. No, I don't think we do," I answer with a shrug.

"Ah damn, I hoped you would. Nevermind, I'll have to come back. At least I won't be leaving totally disappointed," he adds looking blatantly through the gap in my shirt and winking.

His attention makes me a little weak at the knees and I can still feel his eyes on me as he starts to move away. I try to focus back on work but I suddenly have a mental image of him grabbing at the opening in my shirt and ripping it open right here in the middle of the store. It makes me squirm in embarrassment but the excitement between my legs is now begging for attention.

I remember the young guy is still standing nervously nearby, "Hey George, can you keep an eye on this stock. I need to go and try to fix my shirt."

"Ye sure Jen. I'll be here for a while so no rush," he replies, desperately trying to keep his eyes on my face and not my tits.

"Thanks, you're a star," I say with a smile and I quickly scuttle off to the staff locker room. Hopefully, I've got a safety pin in my bag.

It's probably about ten metres to get from my spot in the aisle to the door out of the customer section. It isn't far but somehow I feel like half of London has taken a good look at my partly exposed tits and flustered expression by the time I get to the door.

As I open it, my mind reverts back to the scenario where that guy had ripped my shirt open in the aisle and now he's peeling my work trousers down and leaving me in nothing but my underwear with a small crowd starting to gather.

Increasingly more flustered, I veer away from the staff room, in case anyone else is on their break, and slip into the staff toilet instead. It's a small room with white walls, a toilet, sink with a mirror above it and a hand dryer. I look at myself in the mirror and can't ignore the blush of my cheeks. My hard nipples are still visible poking through but they are less obvious now. Mostly because of the gape in my shirt where the button came off flashing a generous amount of cleavage.

My imagination kicks back in and he's stripping me fully naked in the aisle and parading me around so the whole shop can look at me. He pushes me down onto my knees and starts unzipping his trousers in front of me as more men come forwards.

I lean back against the wall behind me and peel my work trousers and thong down. The inside of my thong is soaked in my juices and my lips already glisten in anticipation. I slide my hand down through my closely cropped pubes and into the warm wetness. My fingers gravitate to my exposed clit as I imagine cocks of strange men being taken out all around me while I kneel in the open completely exposed. I rub myself faster and faster as I picture all the ways they could use me and fill my holes right there in the open. I bite my lip to stifle my whimpers, I'm almost there as someone thuds on the door.

"Hey, hurry up in there, my break is almost over," says a deep voice.

I stop myself for a second and try to compose my voice before replying, "Sorry, just a minute."

Focussing back on my body I bear down on my clit as I imagine being bent over in the aisle and fucked from behind while someone else uses my mouth and others watch on touching themselves ready to use me next. Almost instantly my orgasm arrives. My legs shake underneath me and I bury my mouth in my elbow to muffle the moans.

As the pleasure fades I look up and see myself in the mirror again looking so much more depraved than when I first walked in. I quickly wipe myself down as best I can and pull my soaked thong and tight trousers back on. I wash any last cum off my fingers and straighten myself up as much as I can.

I unlock the door and rush out, almost walking directly into Jeff. I mumble an apology and keep walking until I get to the lockers. Mercifully, I find a safety pin in there and I manage to pin my shirt closed to look somewhat more decent.

As I walk back into the brighter lighting of the main shop, I hope George is still there, I've definitely taken longer than I should.

"There you are," he says as I round the corner. "I was starting to think that you left me here with all this stuff."

"Sorry, finding a safety pin turned into quite an ordeal," I timidly lie without looking at him directly. I settle back into stocking the last of the crisps trying not to think too much about what I just did. Although the wetness in my thong is a constant reminder. At least my nipples have softened and aren't so obvious anymore.

The rest of the shift is a lot less eventful. After the crisps I stock some fresh fruit and veg with Charlotte. She fills me in on all of her guy drama and I'm happy to let her.

After that, I finish up and make the short walk home. It seems admitting my fantasy has really awakened something in me.

--

Jen's exploration of her new fantasy will continue in part two.