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Introduction:

The beginning of a new series outlining Professor David's sexploits
I’ve been a college professor for nearly my entire adult life. I have taught a wide spectrum of courses in the fields of literature, writing, and English. But this series of stories isn’t about that. This series of stories is about another of my university responsibilities. For twenty years of my career I served as the lone male sponsor of a university sorority. This series of stories are the semi-true accounts of those years of being the only male in the room for all manner of venerable ritual designed to take strangers and turn them into sisters and some of the long time friendships that I was blessed with as well. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. I will tell the stories out of sequence, following no particular timeline. What you may have determined by now, if you’ve read my other works, I have ambivalent moral standards when it comes to sexual congress. Taboo is only a fragrance to me. I don’t hold the notion that sex is morally right or wrong. Sex isn’t morally anything. Sex is the physical expression of desire. And it’s damn fun.

This is the story of my first affair.

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It wasn’t unusual for a student to request an appointment to discuss their coursework. I kept regular office hours so students could come in and receive help and advice between class sessions. When Micki Andrews knocked on my door jamb, I waved her right in. She was followed by two other female students I didn’t know.

“Professor David, this is Karen and Kristen. They are my sorority sisters. We have a question to ask you.” I was more than a little familiar with the workings of our universities Greek Fraternities and Sororities. Each fall we had to suffer through a week of distractions and interruptions during Rush Week as the pledges were put through their embarrassing paces in order to curry favor with the upperclassmen of their organizations. “We’d like to ask you a big favor.”

I made a steeple of my fingers and raised one eyebrow in a particularly bemused posed and replied simply,
“Yes?”

“We’d like you to be our sponsor.”

“And what would that entail? Cash? Bail money? Beer runs?” They all laughed.

“No Professor, you’d be the sponsor for our sorority. You’d sit in on our council meetings and give us advice and guidance on difficult matters and be our contact with the University faculty,” Kristen replied, almost shyly. “You’d be the first man to sponsor a sorority at this school. Ever. We think you’d be really cool and we love your sense of humor. We know it’s a big time commitment, but we really try to make it worth your while. For your wife too.”

“As much as I am honored by your request….” I started to try and demure.

“Before you say ‘no’, please take the night to think about it. Talk to your wife. The invitation is for both of you. It would be ideal if your wife could be the co-sponsor. She wouldn’t have your official responsibilities, but as a woman she would have some helpful perspectives we might grow from.” They were certainly adept at both the hard and soft sell, massaging my ego and laying out a compelling argument at the same time.

“Ok, ok! I’ll THINK about it. Stop by tomorrow and I will give you my answer.” The three young women all graced me a quick hug and big smile.

“Thank you Professor. Thank you!” They bounced out of my office like I had said ‘Yes’. I had time to consider what they had asked for a short time before another student knocked. And this student had a real topic to discuss and I put the request out of my mind, having already decided to decline.

When I got home I had a nice relaxing supper with my relatively new bride. We’d only been married three years and our kids hadn’t begun to arrive yet. It still felt like we were on our honeymoon. We were on the deck overlooking the back yard listening to some old jazz on my real record player and sipping on a pretty average Bordeaux. The front door rang and my wife went to answer. A few moments later the music stopped, getting my full attention. When I turned to look why, Kay was standing by my old hi-fi stereo surrounded by a room full of coeds.

“Did you forget to ask me something?” Kay asked with a suppressed smile.

“Before you make your decision, we thought we would come over and show you what you are entitled to as our sponsors. Please sit back while we show you what we can do.” Kay and I took seats next to each other on the couch while five girls with angelic voices began to serenade us with their sorority songs. The other twenty girls spread out in our house and began to clean. They cleaned everything from top to bottom. In half an hour our small starter home was cleaner than it had ever been.

Micki, Karen and Kristen took the floor and the rest of the sorority sat down wherever they could find room for their tight little behinds. “Sigma Epsilon Xi was chartered in 1871, the year after the founding of our university. It is the only fraternity or sorority that has been in continuous existence since founding,” began Micki.

“Our letters stand for Strength, Excellence, and Fidelity,” added Karen, to the titters of her sisters.

“We twenty five sisters formally invite you, Professor and Mrs. David, to be our official sponsors for a period of time as you deem fitting.” The other girls cheered and clapped and stomped in unison while chanting “Sig Ma zzEYE! Sig Ma zzEYE! Sig Ma zzEYE!”

Kay glowed with the adulation. She turned to me, eyes sparkling. As usual, the eyes have it. I held up my hand.

“All right, all right. If I say yes, can we go back to listening to jazz and drinking wine?” There was a huge screaming response as Sigma Xi got what they wanted. As usual. I stood and motioned for silence. “Ok, you have to go now. It’s late and I have an early morning. It’s an honor to be asked and it will be a pleasure to do what we can for SIG MA zzEYE!” They all cheered and clapped but eventually they filed out.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mention their request earlier. Frankly I had intended to tell them no tomorrow and didn’t think for one second you’d be interested,” I said to my wife as we got ready for bed.

“If they hadn’t come by and made such a big show of asking, I doubt I would have wanted to do it or even let you do it,” replied Kay with candor. “But they seemed so eager to have us I couldn’t say no. If it doesn’t work out, we can always resign and go back to being just Paul and Kay David again. But having them clean the house was a really nice gesture. It’s so clean!”

A clean house must be some kind of aphrodisiac because Kay treated me to a night of passion we usually reserved for special occasions. I awoke the next day more tired than when I had gone to sleep.
Being a sorority sponsor had its ups and downs. Some of my colleagues gave me funny looks when they found out I was a sorority sponsor, but they eased up their judgment when they discovered Kay was also involved. It made me look less like a lecher I guess. In our first year we dealt with many issues. Most came up at the sorority meetings held every Sunday night at 10 pm and often stretched into the early morning hours of Monday. The meeting agenda was always Old Business, New Business, Greek Council, Sister Brags, and finally Sister Rags. The first three items were routine operational discussions. Sister Brags were about telling what good fortune had occurred over the previous week. Honors, great grades, engagements etc. There was always good news to discuss.

Sister Rags was the opposite. It was a time for the girls to air their grievances. These were fewer for sure, but they were the most difficult to deal with. They covered everything from borrowing without permission, to sleeping with another sister’s boyfriend. It didn’t matter the issue brought up during Sister Rags, it was always an emotional time. I only occasionally spoke during the meetings and only a handful of times in twenty years did I speak without being asked a direct question. My role as sponsor and advisor allowed me to overrule any mistakes they might make, but I didn’t take sides. The first time I spoke was after a three hour discussion about a boy. The long discussions were always about a boy. Two girls were fighting over who got to keep him and we were getting nowhere. I observed the discussion and realized there were three girls out of the twenty-five present who hadn’t offered an opinion. I cleared my throat.

“This has gone on long enough. First, I need not remind you that NO man is worth tearing apart the Sisterhood.” Heads drooped in shame. “Second, this particular young man in question isn’t worth three MINUTES of discussion, let alone three HOURS.” Heads turned toward me. I could see they were waiting on the explanation.

“I am calling for a heads down vote.” They looked at me with surprise.

"What are we voting on?” asked Kristen.

“When you all put your heads down, you will find out,” I assured them. They responded by putting their heads down and closing their eyes. This was how the sorority reached decisions when they wanted to be anonymous so they didn’t hurt feelings. I knew it was how they blacklisted potential pledges and they understood the implication.

“Show of hands, NO PEEKING NOW, show of hands, how many of you have slept with this Ben Allman or know of more than two sisters who have?” Twenty two hands crept up. “Show of hands, NO PEEKING NOW, show of hands, how many of you think that NO Sigma Xi should date or sleep with Ben Allman?” All twenty five hands shot up. “Hands down, the vote is over.”

Kay, who never spoke to the group, delivered the results. “Ben Allman is a creep and a player. He isn’t worth your time or affection. He is black listed. Any sister who dates or sleeps with him now risks being placed into alumni status.” Alumni status is where they put you when they don’t want you around but they won’t sever your ties to the sorority. You don’t come back from alumni status.
There were more than a couple surprised faces in the crowd.

“If there is no other business,” stated Micki, “we are adjourned.”

The next day Kristen Mitchell knocked on my door. “Can I come in Professor?”

“Of course. Take a seat.”

“Do you mind if I shut the door. At least most of the way?” I nodded. I have a rule about leaving the door open a crack when I am alone with a student, particularly a coed. I watched a few of my colleagues get accused of all kinds of improprieties over the years and didn’t need any reason for my name to be drug through the mud. Kristen left a gap of two inches. Open enough to see in, closed enough to keep our conversation private.

“What’s on your mind Kristen? Is it boys or sisters?” Since I didn’t have her in class, it had to be one of those two subjects.

“Actually Professor, it’s both.”

“OK, begin where you’d like.”

“Elections are coming up…. What would you think of me becoming President?”

“I think it’s a great idea, but you are only a sophomore. Isn’t a junior usually asked to run?”

“Yes, usually. But there are only six juniors returning next year. Karen is in pre-med and said she wants and easy office. Julie is studying abroad first semester, so she’s out. Anna wants to be vice so she can be president of the Greek Council. Libby wants to be Saint. Elle and Jamie are both doing varsity sports and don’t have the time. The six came to me and asked if I would step up a year early.”

“What would happen next year? Could you be president again?”

“I could, but I don’t know if I want to be president for two years. Maybe I’ll be social chair as a senior. They don’t do anything after Rush. Then I could just come and sit in the back of the room and make smartass remarks.”

“There is that,” I agreed. “I think you should go for it.”

“But do you think I would be a good president?”

“Without a doubt. You are smart, considerate, sincere and level headed. You don’t let things rattle you. You’d be an excellent president. Now do you want to talk about your other problem? Your ‘real’ problem?”

“It’s about a guy, of course. I don’t want to tell you his name, it’s embarrassing. I have been in love with him since I first met him and I don’t know how to get his attention.”

“I can’t imagine, Kristen, that there is any young man on this campus whose attention you haven’t gotten at one time or another.” I gave her an honest answer. Kristen Mitchell was five foot six or seven, naturally blonde, blue eyed and had an athletic build. She was small-chested but she had firm muscles and when I saw her with her stomach bare, it was defined in a six-pack. She was buff. Her best feature was her smile. Honest without a hint of guile. She was beautiful in a wholesome and natural way. Definitely the kind of girl you wanted to take home to Dad.

“I want to get to know him better, but I don’t know how.”

“Well, I don’t know how to help you there, without knowing the boy’s name. My advice to you is to just be yourself. You are smart, funny, and undeniably attractive. You are fit and beautiful and a prize for any young man. And any young man who thinks otherwise is not worthy of you.”

“Thank you professor,” she blushed with embarrassment. “We are so lucky to have you as our sponsor. Would you mind if I came back again, just to talk?”

“No Kristen, not at all.”

Kristen left and I didn’t dwell on her problem in the least. Her problems weren’t serious enough to merit any more attention. But I did enjoy talking to her. She was so sweet and natural and she put everyone at ease.
The week before midterms that spring semester, I held my usual weekend “panic” office hours. Few of my colleagues wouldn’t hold weekend office hours for any reason, but I was a pretty tough professor and only thought it fair to be available before midterms and finals to allow my students to take the initiative to get the extra work and study in. I opened my office at eight in the morning and shut down at noon both Saturday and Sunday. Only serious students would stop by.

“Professor?” There was a familiar voice coming from my hallway.

“Come in Kristen,” I replied. “What brings you in so early this morning?” She entered my office wearing a cut-off sweatshirt, track shorts and running shoes. Beneath the cut-off bottom of her sweatshirt, I could see a blue and black one piece swimsuit. She had an athletic bag over her shoulder.

“I was on my way to the pool to get a workout in, and I saw you pull in. I heard you held hours on weekends and it almost made me want to take your class. Almost.” She laughed. We both knew that only serious students and masochists would take my class voluntarily.

“Are you using me as an excuse not to go for your swim?” I asked.“Well, sort of. I guess I needed to talk to someone I could trust who wasn’t one of my gossipy sorority sisters. You said I could come back and talk anytime, so I thought I’d take the opportunity when it presented itself this morning.” We both laughed at that. I knew very well how fast secrets made their rounds in Sigma zzEye.

We talked for nearly forty-five minutes about her problems with this young man she couldn’t get to notice her. She wouldn’t reveal his name and I didn’t pressure her. I asked if maybe he was gay and she assured me he wasn’t. She finally admitted that he was involved with someone else and he was older. I assumed a senior with a senior girlfriend. I advised her to place her affection and attention somewhere else. She was wasting her time on this guy. She would be better appreciated by someone who didn’t need a brick to the head to notice her. We talked until one of my students showed up. Kristen gracefully rose to leave. She had her workout still to do.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help,” I said as I walked her part of the way down the hall toward the exit. “But if you want to talk about it later, I am free all afternoon. Kay is off to her sisters this weekend for a girls shopping and pampering weekend. “

Kristen immediately brightened up. “That would be great! Can I come back at noon, when your office hours are over? I’ll even take you to lunch. My treat.”

“Sure. That would be fine. As long as you let me pick the place.”

“It’s a date!” she chirped. She seemed almost giddy. She fairly skipped out the door.
After a busy morning of last minute cram-session tutoring, noon finally crept around. But I still had two students in my waiting area when Kristen arrived. She sat on the floor with her back against the wall, took out a text book from her athletic bag and began to review for her own midterms. I noticed she no longer wore the swimsuit under the gray university sweatshirt that she had been mid-stomach to reveal her great abs. She had also removed the collar and shortened the sleeves. She had also changed to a pair of pink nylon running shorts. She looked comfortable and desirable all at the same time.

It took me more than an hour to work with those two students. I didn’t expect to see Kristen still waiting. Yet there she was, slumped over sleeping with her head on her gym bag. As I knelt down to wake her, I noticed that her sweatshirt had gaped open at the neck and I could see all the way down her chest to her stomach. She wasn’t wearing anything at all under the sweatshirt and one of her small breasts was plainly available to for my appreciation. Small, not even an A cup, her breasts were capped by the most exquisite nipples, dark pink on medium pink. They too were tiny but begged to be teased with teeth and tongue. I shook my head to clear the sexual thoughts that had overtaken my mind. Then I reached over and gently shook her shoulder.

“Hey Sleepyhead! Wake up. You’re late for class!” My jape had its intended reaction. Kristen bolted upright, panic in her eyes.

“Oh! Ow! Ow! Ow!” she whined, wincing and grabbing her neck. “I slept wrong and my neck and back are out of whack. And that was mean Paul! You shouldn’t tease like that. I always think I am going to oversleep and miss my midterms.” She rubbed her neck, trying to work out the kinks.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. It was mean.” I helped her to her feet. She stood there painfully rubbing her neck and stretching her shoulders and back, trying to get the kinks out. She turned toward the wall and pointed at her neck.

“Can you help me out? Please? It hurts so much and I can’t get it myself.”
As soon as I placed my hands on the back of her neck and shoulders, I knew I had crossed a line. In my career I had never laid hands on a coed before. I don’t know what possessed me now. Maybe it was feelings of altruism toward another human being in pain. Maybe it was fleeting desire fueled by the brief glance at her wonderful tiny breast and exquisite nipple. Maybe it was because deep down I wanted Kristen to be attracted to me. So I rubbed her neck to test a theory that had been ruminating in the back of my mind. It was my way of finding out if my theory was just a fantasy. I rubbed her neck and shoulders for a while and she seemed to relax.

“Standing in the hallway isn’t that comfortable,” she observed after ten minutes of rubbing. “I think we should continue this in your office.” Even though the building was empty and likely to stay that way, she had offered to take this someplace more private. I thought I might be misinterpreting the request, but it seemed prudent to add another layer of privacy to continue testing my theory. Kristen took the initiative even further. She grabbed her bag and my hand and headed into my office.

For the first time in my career I shut the door with a coed in my office alone. Then I checked to make sure it was locked. Two more lines crossed and I sensed another one fast approaching. My heart rate was rising.
“Why don’t you sit in this chair, cross your arms and lean over on the desk,” I instructed as I turned my side chair around and placed it with the back closest to the desk. The chair was wasn’t so tall that it was in the way as she lay her head down on her crossed arms.

“Ok Paul. I’m ready. Get busy making it up to me for the trick you played.” She shut her eyes and adjusted her head until she was most comfortable. I sat in my office chair and rolled around until I was right behind her. I spread my legs to allow her to chair between them and placed my hands on the back of her neck and shoulders. I began to massage her neck again and her trapezius muscles. I dug my thumbs in and was rewarded with a low moan of pain or pleasure. Since she didn’t object, I called it pleasure and continued. I rubbed her neck and shoulders, feeling all the tension melt away. I glanced down and could see the top of her ass where her shorts were riding down. Her breathing was deep and slow. I worked my hands lower and rubbed the latissimus muscles in the middle of her back for a while, then returned to her shoulders and neck. I rubbed her scalp and sternocleidomastoid muscles that carry neck tension around to the side of her face. I used my fingertips to melt her pressure points; a talent one of my former college girlfriends had taught me. She had been a Japanese American princess who has been schooled by her Japanese grandmother in some of the ancient healing arts. I wasn’t an expert in Japanese massage, but Kristen didn’t appear to notice.

Then I let my hands go lower on her back, to the exposed thoracolumbar fascia muscles above her wonderfully shaped gluteus maximus in those pink running shorts. I dug my thumbs into her lower back over her sacrum and she responded by thrusting her ass back toward me. I used upward strokes along her spine to separate the striations of her muscles and release the tension. As I did my hands moved under her sweatshirt, exposing more of the skin at the bottom of her back above her shorts. I kept working higher until my hands were back at her neck with her sweatshirt bunched up on the top of my hands. Kristen said nothing, but I detected a slight tensing. I pulled my hands back, allowing the sweatshirt to drop into its original position. I put my hands back in the safe zone of her shoulders and neck. Then I repeated the process of working my way down until my thumbs were digging into her lumbar muscles again beneath the cut edge of the sweatshirt. This time she didn’t tense.

“Mmmmmm! This feels so good! I’ll be your wife loves when you do this.” I didn’t say anything. I had used backrubs many, many times in my single days to get girls to slip out of their panties and their inhibitions and into my bed. Kay wasn’t one of them, though. Maybe it was time to treat her to my wonderful hands. I daydreamed a little about Kay while rubbing Kristen. I kept my hands under her sweatshirt as I moved up her back, Kristen didn’t object.

“This sweatshirt is getting in the way, isn’t it?” She reached back and pulled it over her head, but leaving it on her arms and covering her chest. She nestled her face into its comforting warmth and melted back into blissful relaxation.

Kristen’s back was a beautiful thing to behold. Skin smooth with a tiny dark mole here and there. Well defined muscles from years of running and cross training in the pool. She smelled of chlorine and body lotion. I traced the outline of her defined muscles with my fingertips, lightly scratching on the down strokes. She fidgeted and giggled. “That tickles.”

I was enraptured by the athletic beauty and grace exposed to me. I gave up on the serious massage and focused on a massage of appreciation. I pressed my luck and justified my actions by thinking that all the exposed skin needed my attention. So I moved my hands in tandem from side to side, working farther and farther around her until I was partially massaging her external obliques that framed her washboard abdominis and internal obliques. I separated my hands and reached around her waist. I was rubbing her stomach up and down, feeling the indentations between her muscles. Suddenly she shifted and leaned back, relaxing against me, giving me full access to her stomach.

I rubbed her stomach with just my fingertips, one hand moving down to her waistband while the other explored the boundaries of her sweatshirt gathered under her small breasts. She turned her head until she was nuzzled up against my neck. All the alarms were going off in my head, but I wasn’t going to stop until Kristen told me to. I moved my hands in half circles; with each upstroke I was pressing her sweatshirt higher. With each downward movement I was pushing her waistband lower. My lower hand was nearly to her pubis and my upper hand was between her breasts. My own breath was ragged and my heart beat a staccato. Only the occasional moan escaped her lips.

“This massage is making me so horny,” she exhaled in a whisper. She looked at me, expectant. I leaned down, intending to kiss her softly, just brushing my lips against hers. Instead I pushed her away, and stood up. I turned away while she put her sweatshirt back on fully. I couldn’t cross this line.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, Kristen. I want to so bad it makes me sick inside. But I can’t. I’m married. I love my wife. She’s been so good to me. It would be so selfish of me to break her trust and then eventually have to break your trust as well. Please understand. I am so flattered and grateful that you think of me like that, but I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have gone so far.” I expected tears or anger or some kind of emotional outburst.

“It’s okay Professor. I’m cool with it. Cheating on someone you love is a big step. I think it’s sweet you didn’t just drop your pants and screw my brains out because I sure as hell would have let you. I would still let you. If you change your mind tomorrow or next week or next year, I will still let you. Now let’s go eat lunch, I’m starving!”

We shared a two hour lunch at a campus favorite sub shop. Lots of students frequented this place and many of her sorority sisters joined us as they also came in for a late lunch after sleeping in till afternoon. Some of my students took my availability as an invitation to ask questions and I didn’t turn them away. We ended up moving to a party table and it was nearly five o’clock before we finally left. We chatted about many things; boys never came up.

When I got home that evening I grabbed two cold beers from the refrigerator and retired to the deck. I had a lot of thinking to do. The entire afternoon at the sub shop I couldn’t get Kristen out of my mind. That phrase “This massage is making me so horny” kept replaying over and over in my head. It was making me horny too Kristen. I finished the two beers and did some work for my midterm exams and hit the hay. I briefly thought about masturbating to Kristen but I didn’t. I could go one night without sex, even solo. But Kay had better be in the mood on Sunday, I thought to myself.

When Kay got home right at supper time on Sunday evening, I was as randy as any sailor after nine months at sea. She looked radiant as she entered the house, overnight bag in one hand, shopping bags in the other. She wore a short yellow sundress and sandals. I didn’t let her put her bags down and I pulled her close. She responded by pressing her lips upward and into mine. As we shared that long deep first kiss, my left hand found her breast and pinched that hard nipple tightly. My right hand worked its way under her dress and behind her waistband to her scant bush. She was wearing satin panties. I could feel the heat of her arousal before my fingers invaded her swollen and wet slit. Her clit was fully extended, begging for my attention. The bags hit the floor. Kay gets aroused quickly and intensely. I split my fingers along her swollen pudenda and massaged her clit with her own folds. Our tongues fought for dominance and finally I broke off the kiss.

“Let me guess, this boy thinks he won’t get any attention,” she said as her hand found my engorged cock straining in my shorts. “All this after just one night apart?”

“What about this?” I replied, rolling her thick clit between my finger and thumb. Her hips twitched with intense pleasure.

“Shut up and kiss me again,” she ordered, pulling my head down to hers. My hands stayed where they were. I roamed across her chest, able to span from nipple to nipple. My right hand found her slit again and this time I slipped a finger inside, curving it until I could feel the spongy growth known as her g-spot. I swirled around her g-spot and vibrated my finger with that hand while I pinched and rolled her nipples with the other. She began to buck and twist. I didn’t let up. I knew she was close to release. I moved my mouth to her neck began to lick and suck and bite. Kay tensed up and her thighs closed as tight as my hand allowed. As she rode her climax I kept her going by manipulation of my hands and mouth. Finally she put both hands against my chest to get away from the pleasure. As my hands disengaged she immediately collapsed onto our couch in a heap.

“Oh my God, Paul! That was so different than the welcome back I expected.” I was shocked by her honest declaration. And a little proud.

“Glad to be of service, I guess.” I sat down on the couch near her, giving her room to recuperate. She rolled toward me and began to kiss me again. This time she gripped my cock hard. I was so hard I nearly came from just her grip. She got down on her knees between my legs and unbuckled my belt and shorts. She pulled my shorts and underwear down far enough to allow my cock to stand straight up. She licked from the base, near the balls, up to the sensitive tip. It twitched in anticipation. She gripped my waistband and slid off my shorts with one smooth movement. Then she swallowed my cock in one deep gulp, stopping when her nose pressed against my pubic bone. She had sucked my dick many times before, but this was the first time she’d ever deep-throated me. She fucked her mouth with my cock until I was ready to explode. I gripped her head, not to force her to suck, but to imagine I was. She was doing this all on her own. “This massage is making me so horny” a voice in my head whispered. I closed my eyes and imagined Kristen was deep throating me, not Kay.

“I’m going to climax!” I warned her. She wasn’t a swallower. I expected her to pull off and stroke me to finish, like she had dozens of times before. Instead she increased her pace, gripping my hips and trying to impale her throat even deeper.

“I can’t hold it back!” I warned her again. She squeezed my balls in response. The floodgates opened and I flooded her mouth with my warm seed. She swallowed it all, spilling nary a drop. I had to force her mouth off my cock as it grew so sensitive post-ejaculation. Kay got to her feet. I tried to pull her onto my lap, but she pulled away, reaching under her dress to lower her satin panties first. Then she climbed onto my lap and straddled my waist. We kissed. We shared the flavor of my sperm and she ground her bare cunt onto my semi-hard cock. She rotated her hips, grinding her clit against my shaft. Her movements were jerky, almost desperate. She was in a bad way and needed release. I slipped my arms under her legs and flipped her onto her back on the couch. It was my turn to be on my knees in service to my mate. I buried my face in her lightly hairy bush and sucked her thick clit into my mouth. Her labia, both internal and external will fully engorged. I lapped and nibbled, licked and sucked, as I pleasured my wife with my tongue and lips. She bucked and gasped, spreading her legs obscenely wide. I pinned her legs high with my shoulders, leaving her fully exposed. Her anal ring twitched as she shudder with the waves of pleasure coming from her sex. I slipped my hands under her dress to her nipples and that was all it took to begin her second climax. I circled her clit with my tongue and sucked her labia into my mouth. I pressed my tongue against her rosebud and felt it yield to my pressure. This was the first time I had ever tried anything with Kay’s backdoor. She pressed her ass against my mouth, giving me permission to proceed. My nose was buried in her hot and steaming cunt, my tongue twisting in her ass and she squirmed and bucked with pleasure. Her hands were buried in my hair and with every climactic crescendo she threatened to tear patches out. When she pulled too hard, I would pinch her nipples until she relented. A couple times I pinched so hard she climaxed again from the pain/pleasure.

Finally she pushed my head away, begging for relief. “STOP! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!” She gasped and bucked without any input from me, enjoying the aftershocks of her climactic bliss. Her cunt leaked fluid. I couldn’t help it, I had to lap it up. This started her whole eruption process over. “GODDAMN IT, PAUL DAVID, I SAID STOP!”

Her cunt spurted her ejaculate. I had never made her squirt before. It covered my face and it drove me into a frenzy of lust. Against her protests I drove my face into that fountain of lust and drank deeply. Then I rose up on my knees and place my rigid cock against her opening.

“No!” she begged. “Not yet. Let me calm down first.” Sorry dear, not happening. I shoved into her sweet cunt with a force of nature. She gripped her own knees and kept her legs gaped wide. My balls slapped her asshole as my cock widened her vaginal channel. This was no lovemaking. This was pure animalistic fucking.

“This massage is making me so horny” said the little voice in my head as I thrust into my wife. “So horny….so horny….so horny….so horny….” I erupted again, coating my wife’s cunt with my cum. I collapsed on her chest. We stayed that way for several minutes until Kay spoke.

“Can I get up now? Suddenly I am really hungry and need a shower.” I laughed and stood up, helping her to her feet as well. She was shaky and unsteady. “I should go away more often! Coming home is exhausting though.”

We each took showers, sharing a kiss on the way to and from. We had a bottle of wine and some Chinese take-out and then short nap. Then it was time for the Sigma Epsilon Xi meeting and we drove up to campus to do our part as sponsors.

I caught Kristen’s eye as we entered the room and took our usual places in the back. She was seated near the front, off to one side where she could see the entire room. I thought I detected a bit of a smile when she saw me and I struggled to maintain my composure as I heard her voice again “This massage is making me so horny.” My cock stirred painfully. I saw Kristen’s gaze fix on Kay, who was talking with some of the girls seated closest to us. Then she shifted her glance back to me and I did see her smile appear. Did she know that I had taken my sexual release with my wife while hearing her voice in my head? How could she know? I settled into my seat and moved my gaze around the room. Sigma Xi was filled with nubile and beautiful young women of all types. I hadn’t really noticed before, but something in me had changed in the last 36 hours. From that moment on, I would notice coeds as women as well as judging them as students.

That meeting was the night that sisters were elected to various offices. Most of the time there was only two candidates nominated for each position, and the candidates got to speak on their own behalf before being sent down the hall so that the group could discuss them in private. The first office was President. Kristen was nominated first as well as all of the juniors who immediately declined the nomination. Finally someone moved to close nominations with one candidate and Kristen was asked to leave the room for the vote. Everyone said nice things about Kristen, starting with the seniors and then the juniors. The sophomores who were pledge sisters with Kristen said the most. The freshmen said the least. It was a unanimous vote of course and Kristen was handed the gavel as she re-entered the room. She took over as president and the next chapter of Sigma Xi began.

The rest of the meeting went quickly enough. Only a couple of the elections were close. Everyone got elected to some kind of responsibility. Then it was time for Sister Brags. When the girls were done making announcements, one of the girls Kay had been talking with when the meeting began stood up.

“With the permission of the sisterhood, I’d like to invite Kay David to speak.” No one objected so Kay stood up.

“I thought you all might like to know, David and I are expecting.” She was almost giddy when she announced it. The room erupted with squeals of delight. Everyone gathered around my wife and gave her hugs and congratulations. Only Kristen gave me a hug.

“Well done, stud!” she whispered. But she was overheard by Micki Andrews. When the congratulations died down, Micki raised her hand to be recognized.

“I move that we grant the secret titles of “Stud” and “Studette” to Paul and Kay David.” Sigma Xi, like so many Greek organizations, proffer titles that only the members are permitted to use. Kay laughed and punched my arm.

“I guess your secret’s out now, ‘Stud’!” she teased. I looked up at Kristen, and her eyes twinkled with mischief. The girls all laughed.

When we got home Kay apologized for not telling me sooner. She had forgotten her news when she had come home because I had distracted her with my passion. Then she thought it would be neat to share it with the sorority and see my reaction. I forgave her of course, just as soon as her warm mouth swallowed my cock again.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened again until two weeks before finals. I was back to hosting weekend office hours. Kay took the opportunity to head to her sisters to do some maternity shopping, even though she hadn’t begun to really show yet. My first Saturday back and the first student in my office was Kristen Mitchell. She was wearing a light t-shirt and tight shorts and running shoes. It didn’t appear she was wearing a bra or panties, but I tried not to dwell on her appearance. It had been weeks since the little voice had said “This massage is making me so horny”. I thought I might be over my lust for this athletic coed.

“I’m going for a run around the lake. I was wondering if you were free for lunch after your office hours.”

Eager to test my confidence that I was over her, I said “Sure. Did you want to meet somewhere or did you want to come back here?”

“I’ll come back here, if you don’t mind. That way if you run long again, I won’t be waiting alone in a restaurant.”

“Good call,” I agreed.

At noon Kristen reappeared, wearing white shorts and a pink peasant blouse. She had obviously had time to return to her sorority house to shower and change.

“How was your run?” I asked, shuffling papers into organized piles as we spoke.

“Good, but I think I pulled the muscles in my thigh and my hammy is kind of tight. Do you mind? You have such gifted hands….” She was offering me hands on access to her wonderful legs.

“I suppose.” In my head I was thinking this was the best test for my new resolve. This would show me that I was over her. “Take a seat.”

She sat down in the side chair and I rolled over between her legs. I pulled her sore right leg up into my lap and began to work from her knee up toward her hip, deeply massaging her rectus femoris along the front of her thigh and then her biceps femoris in the back. With each pass of my hands up her legs I got closer to the hem of her shorts, which was much higher than shorts are worn today.

“Do you mind doing both legs? You are making that leg feel so good, my other leg feels bad by comparison.”

“Sure, no problem. I pulled her left leg up onto my right leg and began to work it over as well. I scooted my chair a little closer so that I could reach higher on her legs and this caused her legs to spread a little more. Her shorts were pressed against her cunt, outlining her delicate little cameltoe. I stared at her crotch long enough to get caught by Kristen.

“It’s sore even higher on both legs,” she complained.

My resolve, I realized, had been a façade. There wasn’t anything I could do but lust after this gorgeous coed that clearly still wanted me to bed her. But I was in no hurry to cheat on my pregnant wife. I took my time massaging Kristen’s legs. I slowly moved my hands up her legs until I could feel the termination of her pectineus at the crease of her groin, well under her shorts. What I didn’t feel was panties. I backed down her legs and worked over her shins and calves, the tibialis anterior and gastrocnemius muscles. I slipped her shoes off and worked over her feet as well. When I was satisfied with my work, I began to work up her legs in earnest. When I got to the hem of her shorts, I kept my hands on top until they reached her button. I unbuttoned her waistband and pulled her shorts clear of her legs, leaving her bare cunt open to my view. She leaned back in the chair and bit one finger. A huge smile covered her face. I pulled her other hand until she was sitting upright and then lifted her peasant blouse off of her torso. She lay back, naked as the day she was born. Her nipples were hard tiny points. Kristen hooked her heels over my spread legs and pulled us together until her spread cunt was inches from my pants covered crotch. Then Kristen grabbed my belt and smoothly opened the buckle and then the fly behind it. My cock was trying to spring out but I wasn’t commando. Her hot hands slipped under my waistband and enveloped my engorged cock. She pulled it out into the Saturday afternoon air.

“Oh goodness! It looks angry! Maybe this will make it feel better.”

Kristen began to stroke me with both of her hands. I am not huge, but I am slightly larger than average. I am seven and half inches with a normal erection but if I get super hard, I can break eight inches. In her tiny hands, I felt like I was hung like a horse.

Kristen pushed my cock down until it was pointed directly at her bare and gaping pussy. She used her heels to close the gap until the head of my dick rubbing her swollen pussy. Then she reached around my neck and pulled herself up into my lap, sliding my cock deeper into her cunt as she rose. Fully engaged we kissed. Now her mouth was higher than mine and I was kissing upward. Kristen grabbed at my shirt, pulling it off over my head.

Whatever lines there were to cross, I didn’t care. I was fucking a beautiful young coed. Kristen rode my cock up and down, pressing her tiny breasts against my face, teasing me with the occasional taste of her nipples. I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t going to last.

“I’m about to climax,” I whispered in warning.

“It’s ok. I’m on the pill. I want to feel you cum inside me this time.”

This time? Did I hear her correctly? Was she inferring there would be a next time? I didn’t care. In for a penny, in for a pound. I was prepared to repeatedly pound this coed until the cows came home.
Kristen kept riding my cock until the boiling in my balls was too much. I gripped her hips and pulled her tight to my crotch and fired hot bullets of cum deep into her womb. She ground her pelvis to mine, milking my cock dry.

“I love the way your cock throbs as you cum in my pussy,” she whispered huskily into my ear as she rode me slowly to a stop.

Exhausted and spent, we shared heaving breaths until we could come down from our post coital aftershocks. Still engaged with each other, we continued our conversation.

“Why me, Kristen? I’m a married college professor. Why didn’t you pick one of those hunks from the football team or one of those athletes from the basketball team?”

“I had a crush on you from the first time I met you last year during freshman orientation. Then when I saw the way your wife looked at you, I knew you were a man who could make a woman happy. And I was right!” She slapped me on the chest. “I was so into you that Bob and I used you to cum almost every afternoon.”

“You have a boyfriend named Bob and you still wanted me?”

“No silly. Not Bob. BOB. Battery Operated Boyfriend. My vibrator. Don’t look so shocked, everyone in SEX has one. If they don’t have one when they join, by then end of Hell Week they get at least one and instructions on how to use them. You can’t tell anyone though. It’s a sorority secret.”

We both laughed. “I won’t tell.”

We talked and kissed and my cock never softened. Finally Kristen admitted she was hungry. “You promised me lunch. Let’s go eat.”
I would have, but my cock wwas still hard and still embedded in this cute coed’s cunt. Instead I started to lift her up and down on my shaft.

“Again? Ok, that’s fine with me,” she said between gasps.

She rode my shaft much slower this time, determined to enjoy her ride. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I lowered her onto my carpet and began to fuck her in earnest. Her legs were wrapped around my waist and her heels were spurring my ass to drive deeper. I pile drove her ass until my balls began to boil and I was getting ready to cum.

“Come in my mouth Paul,” she asked. “I want to taste you.”

I rolled onto my back and she climbed off my cock and between my legs. She tucked her blonde hair behind her ears and sucked my cock into her throat. Like Kay, Kristen had no gag reflex. I lasted only half a minute before my second batch of batter was pouring out of my cock. She licked it all up and licked my shaft clean as well.

Suddenly I was famished. Reluctantly we disengaged and got dressed. I bent my head down and kissed her for the first time. She was a great kisser.

Line or not, I was never going to be the same again. I was already looking forward to the next time Kristen and I could be together. Luckily for me, I wouldn’t have to wait that long.
2 comments

darthel0101Report

2014-08-06 14:53:25
Another favorite series. After reading 4 chapters, I hope to see many more.

vivicavixxenReport

2014-07-02 14:35:47
Another excellent story

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