Loading...It wasn’t easy being a young professor at a southern university in the US. When I say young, I mean young. I was always an overachiever, and got my Ph.D at 22 and began teaching immediately. This meant that I was barely older than my students at best.
This had the potential for becoming an outright, unmitigated disaster, and everyone knew it. The Director of my program never came out and said anything to me directly, but it was clear he was keeping a close eye on me.
The sheer fact that I was unusually young as a faculty member meant that I was extremely high-profile. The last thing I wanted to do was run the risk of gossip mongers ruining my career with accusations of sleeping with my students.
I became obsessed with my reputation. The half-joking comments by the secretaries in the office didn’t help, however.
“Oh, Doctor Mike,” they would say in a sing-song manner. “Such-and-Such a student was here to see you and make an ‘Office Appointment.'”
This was, of course, completely unnecessary and untrue. Every one of my students had copies of my office hours on their syllabi. There was no need to bother the main office about such trivialities. The secretaries were obviously aware of my discomfort and were having a blast teasing me.
Try as I might, I couldn’t shake the paranoia that someone would believe them and that it might come back to haunt me when it came time for a performance review. I became colder, less personable than I normally am, and brutally professional. Office hours were held with the door open, always.
At the time I thought I was dissuading any unwanted attention, but in reality it only presented something of a challenge to some students. It became a contest of wills; I would master the art of non-reaction and they would frequently try to push the envelope of propriety.
In Florida, springtime starts in late January. As the temperature rises, the necklines plummet. Within weeks of a semester start the battle of the hormones was well underway.
Unfortunately for me, I had a remarkably high libido. Despite my cool exterior, I mentally recorded every breast, every bare thigh, every full pout that entered my classroom. Office hours provided rich fodder for my fantasies as I played over the typical, clichéd scenario of the poor young coed trying to ‘improve her grade’ by offering a sweet temptation.
In real life, however, I was forced to suppress these perverted thoughts in the stark reality of possibly losing my job and never finding work in any university ever again.
Moreover, the truth was that in fact, ignoring some of the most over-the-top suggestions was easy. As soon as some of these big-titted, cute girls thrust their money-makers in my direction they lost any hope by merely opening their mouths.
Yes, stupid turned me off. And there’s a lot of stupid in the world.
“Dr. Mike,” one coed said to me once, rocking back and forth pushing her breasts together. “Do I have to do this assignment? Can’t I just get credit for it instead?”
Um, no. And you don’t get credit for your tits, either. Put them away.
It was a difficult tightrope act, and I didn’t always get it right. “Mike,” came a voice at my office door one day, along with an authoritarian knock. It was the Director of the program. “Gotta sec?”
The Director came in before waiting for a reply, as we both knew he would. He sat down in the uncomfortable chair next to the door and crossed his legs in a phony attempt at appear collegial.
“How’s it going?” he asked, trying to be sly and nonchalant.
I knew he was going to order me to do something, he knew he was going to do it, all I wanted was for him to get to the point.
Instead, I bit my tongue. “Not too bad,” I said.
“Good, good! Look, Mike,” he said, clasping his hands in front of him, trying to appear as if this was a true dialogue. “I know it’s difficult for you, being so young and all -”
I couldn’t hide the cringe. There was never a meeting that went by when my age didn’t come up. I was the youngest professor in the entire department of 50 faculty by fifteen years, and no one was going to let me forget it.
” – and you need to keep a distance from your students. But I’m concerned that you’re not fulfilling your teaching and service obligations and that – ” he paused, breaking out into a plastic smile ” – is something I don’t think we want to come up in your review.”
So it’s “we” now, is it? Professors are evaluated for tenure based on three specific criteria: Research, Teaching, and Service. Different positions (and schools) have different weighting as to which is the most important, but generally it’s understood that research was the most important, followed by teaching, and service was a distant, distant third. Knowing this, I had placed my emphasis on the first two, as was generally expected.
It was no secret that the Director didn’t like me. He thought I was too young, but I had over a dozen published articles before I graduated from my doctoral program from a top-tier program, and getting me had been a coup for his program. He hadn’t published anything in 30 years.
He enjoyed the prestige of hiring me, and was looking forward to the prestige of firing me. Sadly I only came to understand this after I accepted the position, as faculty politics was an ugly business.
“What kind of obligations am I not fulfilling?” I asked, with genuine curiosity.
“Well,” he drawled, eager to begin the laundry list of my shortcomings. “The students have said that you’re not, well, approachable., and that perhaps you may be favoring the men over the women.”
Wow. I thought. Maybe I had taken this whole “asexual” demeanor a bit too far.
“Also, you haven’t done much service with respect to student organizations. As you know, part of the responsibility of being a tenure-earning professor is to offer support and guidance to our students in related activity.”
This was, of course, bullshit. It was a trap, and we both knew it. He was trying to screw me.
He would verbally order me to spend time on being a faculty advisor to some student group and then turn around and slam me on the review for spending time on an activity that wasn’t truly valuable. Moreover, he’d criticize me for not having the maturity to understand how to prioritize my responsibilities.
However, if I ignored his “suggestion,” he would go to the tenure committee and remark that he had specifically warned me to take a larger role in the service portion of my responsibilities, and I had deliberately and willfully ignored an order from the Director of the program.
“Obviously we all want you to succeed,” he said, his voice staying just a hair’s breadth away from being patronizing. “So I thought I’d just come and have this friendly, unofficial little chat with you.”
That meant there wasn’t going to be anything in writing. Nothing to prove he ever told me to focus on unimportant matters.
“I’ll make sure I balance out my responsibilities,” I said. Somehow I managed to say it even without gritting my teeth.
“Good!” he said, and stood up. As he exited through the doorway he took a quick glance back at me over his shoulder. “Oh, and Mike, try and be a little more approachable and give the girls some equal time, okay?”
I nodded. As I sat there and thought about my predicament, I had one comforting thought. At least the gossip was that I was something of a eunuch, rather than a lascivious sex fiend who preyed on my students.
I heard a cry from the doorway. “Oh, excuse me Dr. Morton!” The Director had apparently not watched where he was going and bumped into two of my students.
“Oh, not a problem, uh…” he said, searching for her name.
“Jeri,” she said, looking up at the much taller man with big brown innocent eyes.
“Jeri, yes, don’t worry about it,” he said, and walked around her and her companion, another student named Monica.
As the Director left Jeri and Monica came into my office, and sat down. “Dr. Mike,” Jeri began, “We were wondering if we could ask a favor.”
“Sure,” I said, the Director’s words echoing in my mind. “What can I do to help?”
Jeri and Monica exchanged glances. The two of them were a picture of contrasts. Monica was a shy, quiet, introverted, skinny girl who dressed plainly and never ever volunteered to talk in class. In fact, Monica was the classic definition of “mousey,” from her long thin hair to her meek temperament.
Jeri, on the other hand, was Monica’s complement in every way. She had curves in all the right places, was tiny (I would have bet a month of my meager academic salary that she barely reached above 5 feet tall), short dark brown hair, and gregarious as hell. There was no telling what was going to come out of her mouth at any given point in time.
One time in class the conversation turned to some of the more extreme feminist views, the ones that go so far as to say that “all sex is rape.” Jeri had slammed her hands on the desk and cried out, “What do they think the clitoris is for!?” Yeah, that little comment gave me visuals for weeks.
On top of it all, Jeri was cute. Somehow she managed to avoid dressing provocatively, but it was always feminine and with the coy knowledge that her hourglass figure could attract attention, both wanted and unwanted.
Her proudest assets by far were that she had a set of the most magnificent breasts I’d ever seen. She always placed them on display with V-cut blouses that were tight across her torso. It took every fiber of my being to continue looking her in the eye whenever she was addressing me.
Of all the students that I had up to that point, Jeri was the source of the richest fantasies. It’s also probably the reason why I was the most professional with her above all. There’s no way I could afford to let it even remotely know how much I found her attractive, and how often I fantasized about slipping my cock between her incredible breasts.
Together, Jeri and Monica made a truly incongruous pair, but somehow their friendship worked for them. They often did projects together, so it wasn’t unusual for them to come to run ideas by me.
“Well,” Jeri said, always the spokeswoman, “We’ve got this club started and in order to get recognized we have to have a faculty advisor. We were wondering if you would mind being our advisor.”
The words of the Director hung in the air and I realized that if I was going to need to work on promoting my service responsibilities, working with these two would work well. Besides, they were both straight-A students, hard workers, and had never given me any reason to believe that there was a reason I shouldn’t help them out.
“Sure,” I said, smiling. “I’d be happy to help you out.”
Jeri looked shocked. “Really?” she said, then caught herself. “I mean, great! We weren’t sure if you’d be willing to do it.”
Monica tapped her on the arm, and they both stood up. “We’re meeting tomorrow night at 7,” Jeri said. “I’ll email you the location.”
“Okay,” I said, “I’ll be there.”
As they left I started thinking about the position I was in with respect to the Director. Morton was obviously gunning for me, and I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. I was never a good person for politics, and I was rapidly finding myself at a no-win situation.
It was a full ten minutes before I began to realize that I had no idea what student group Jeri and Monica wanted me to be an advisor for.
The following day I was slammed. Four courses, office hours, and two committee meetings. My day started in the office at 7 a.m. and went non-stop. I barely had enough time to eat, and during the faculty meetings I watched the Director sit and smirk.
By the time my last class rolled around, I had forgotten about being an advisor. When I saw Jeri and Monica sitting in class, I had a vague recollection that there was something that I needed to do, but it took them to remind me after class to become clued in again.
“Don’t forget!” Jeri said. “It’s really important!”
Checking my email, I saw the address was at an off-campus fraternity house. “Oh great,” I thought. “I really don’t want to get involved with the Greek system. That’s the last thing I need with Morton on my case.”
I arrived at the frat house, completely unprepared. Believe it or not, I had never been in a frat house. I had graduated high school at 15, college at 19, and finished my doctorate barely old enough to legally drink. I had never had time for the college fraternity parties, and as a result I was woefully unprepared for what awaited me.
The house was a-rockin’, the kegs were flowing, and the music pounding. There were so many people it was difficult to move.
Some huge guy came up and demanded to know who I was and why I was there.
I had to lean in and shout to be heard. “I’m looking for Jeri and Monica. Do you know who they are?”
He roared with laughter, drunk. “A threesome? Awesome dude!” He clapped me on the shoulder with the hand that held a red plastic cup of beer, sloshing it over my back. “Keg’s in the other room, dude!”
If I wasn’t sure I should have been there, I certainly wasn’t comfortable now. The last thing I needed was some of these students to recognize me and give Morton any excuse to make my life a living hell.
I found myself wandering through the house, which was enormous. It was almost wall-to-wall people in various stages of intoxication. At this point all I wanted to do was find these two girls and find out what the hell was going on. It was obvious there wasn’t any kind of student group meeting here, and I was beginning to wonder if I was getting set up.
I turned the corner and found myself in a large living room. The throngs of people jumping up and down to the pounding music, holding cups of beer over their heads while dancing looked like a tribal ritual from some surrealistic National Geographic special.
Suddenly I saw Jeri and Monica through an open door on the other side of the room, each holding a red cup but looking away from me. I started to make my way across the room by excusing myself around drunk dancing bodies, trying to avoid getting more beer spilled on me.
I made it about halfway.
A roar went up all around me. Suddenly there were guys jumping up and down, and pointing at me. At that point I knew I had been set up, and felt genuinely scared.
The crowd rushed me, and I instinctively brought my arms up to protect myself, but they went past me to the couple that was right beside me. I turned around to find, to my shock, a beautiful blond on her knees sucking some frat boy’s cock. Right. Next. To. Me.
The noise of the crowd was tremendous, with a stampede of noise surrounding me as more and more people crammed into the room to see what was going on. I was pinned against the arm of the guy getting blown, and I couldn’t move. The shouting was ferocious, and the girl was sucking him like it would stop global warming.
I looked around trying to figure out a way to escape the crushing pressure of the crowd who had come over to gape at this public display of a free sex show, and felt a hand on my zipper, pulling it down. I quickly looked back down and saw that the girl had no idea who I was, nor had she even looked at me. She was on a roll and was going to suck any dick in front of her.
Then the cameras came out. Phones, cameras, anything that had a lens. I panicked. I couldn’t think of anything worse than a young professor getting caught in some sort of fraternity sex video that would inevitably wind up on the Internet and, ultimately, my permanent file.
I was so screwed.
I pushed her hand away, and tried to get the hell out of there before the cameras had a way of capturing me. I put my arms over my head and tried to move around people, but wound up feeling like a bull in a china shop.
The crowd was yelling at me, calling me all kinds of names. “What are you doing?” “Where is he going?” “Dude! You chicken?” “Must be a fag!”
By the time I made it out of the room I was practically drenched in spilled alcohol. The crowd turned back to the show as two other guys had taken my place. I was also thoroughly livid at being put in that position.
At that point all I could think about was getting the hell out of there, and hoping that no actual footage was taken of me that would ruin my career. I hoped that the worst that would happen would be that I would look just like every other student there, and no one would recognize me if they happened to see me on the video.
But I knew I was screwed.
I looked around and found out that I had somehow managed to walk out of a side or back door into some sort of overgrown garden. I needed to get out and found a path leading away from the house. It looked like it would have led to a road nearby, at which point I could circle back and find my car.
“Dr. Mike! Dr. Mike!” I heard behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see Jeri and Monica running towards me.
I was in no mood. I continued walking around the path away from the house until they were out of sight, but found myself in a small clearing with no clear way to go.
My hesitation gave them enough time to catch up with me.
“Dr. Mike!” Jeri said, coming up to me.
“What!” I snarled. She recoiled as if she had been physically slapped, as if my words had reached across the space between us and struck her on the cheek.
“I… we…” she stuttered, and looked at Monica.
I cut her off. “What the fuck?” I shouted, losing any sense of teacher-student propriety. “There was no student group, was there?”
Monica shook her head slowly even before Jeri confirmed it with a small, “No.”
“Do you have any idea what you have just done?!” I was trying very hard not to raise my voice. The last thing I needed was more attention.
“I – ” Jeri started, but I cut her off.
“I could get fired – or worse! – just by being at this party, Jeri!” I hissed. “is that what you were trying to do?”
“No,” she stammered, “We just -”
“Here I am, covered in beer, and all those camer- hey!”
I had been so focused on Jeri that I didn’t even notice that Monica had gotten down on her knees and taken my semi-erect cock in her mouth.
What the… how the hell did she do that!?
I doubled over, folding almost in half. I was embarrassed, modesty forcing a physical intuitive reaction to hide myself.
“Monica!” I hissed. “What are you…”
However, the skinny little bitch was good. Within seconds my half-hard cock was fully erect, and lodged inside her throat. She was holding onto me as my cock reached down her mouth and I couldn’t pull away from her far enough to release myself completely.
I looked up at Jeri and saw that she was just about as shocked as I was. I found it very, very difficult to talk as Monica’s tongue – which never seemed to work in class – was working just fine as it danced across my shaft.
My heart had still been racing from the paranoia of being fired, and now the added adrenaline from Monica’s blowjob made it impossible for me to think straight. I was thoroughly confused.
I looked at Jeri, pleading with my eyes for her to explain what the fuck was going on. She, however, was busy trying to look at what Monica was doing. I was still doubled over so she could see nothing. She placed her hand on my shoulder and started to fix my posture so that she could watch.
“I want to see,” she said.
I wanted to push Monica off, and I could have. She was a skinny girl and probably weighed about half of what I did. I wanted to try to preserve whatever tatters of my career I had left. I wanted to do all that. And I also wanted to let her suck me dry.
I slowly started to stand up straight, and as I did Jeri got to see my cock, soaked with Monica’s saliva, glistening in the moonlight. She gasped a little, fascinated.
“I can’t believe you’re sucking Dr. Mike’s dick,” she said to Monica, who mmmphed in acknowledgement.
I was still angry, and felt myself wanting to take control over a situation in which I had no control.
Fuck it, I thought.
I placed my hand at the back of Jeri’s neck and pulled her to me. She offered only slight resistance, until I kissed her, my hand holding the back of her head firmly in place as I probed her hot mouth with my own. Without even thinking about it, I raised my free hand to caress her breast.
It was then that I snapped into realizing that I was finally getting what I had wanted for months. Jeri’s firm tit mashed itself against my hand, as I felt a desire returning from her. It was obvious that she was capitalizing on the opportunity as well. I began to wonder how many times she had fantasized about this, about having me kiss her, touch her breasts, lick her clit (after all, what’s a clit for?).
She pressed herself up against my hip and started pressing against the bone. I felt Monica deep throat me violently, and looked down and saw that Jeri was pushing her deeper onto my cock, her hand pushing the back of Monica’s head against me.
I glanced down at Jeri’s beautiful tits openly for the first time. For all the times I had avoided giving her any hint that I was fascinated by them, now she was presenting them to me in obvious wantonness. She saw me looking at them and arched her back almost imperceptibly to give me a full view.
“I never knew you liked them,” she said, a coy smile on her face. The rambunctious Jeri that I had come to expect was resurfacing.
“Let’s see them,” I said. I was trying to remain commanding, but my anger was subsiding and Monica’s mouth was working its magic.
Jeri slid the tight shirt off her shoulders and extracted her arms from the sleeves, and lowered the built-in cups below her tits, springing them free completely.
I dove into her breasts with abandon. I couldn’t wait any longer to grab ahold of them, suck them, feel the flawless flesh against my cheeks, my lips, my face. She moaned as I snaked my arm from behind her head to her back and pulled her into my mouth and sucked hard.
For the briefest of moments my minds eye flashed outside of my body to see the big picture: this skinny girl with no tits sucking my cock while I sucked the beautiful curvy mounds of another. My cock jumped inside Monica’s mouth, nearly gagging her.
Jeri pulled away a bit. “My turn,” she said, and looked down at Monica. She got down on her knees and reached for my cock, but instead of putting it in her mouth she brought the tip to one of her nipples, and then the other. I watched, fascinated, as she slid it up and down the center of her chest, Monica’s saliva lubricating her skin beyond her own excited perspiration.
As she wrapped her breasts around my cock I said, “I’ve wanted to do this for ages.”
“Me too,” she said, looking me straight in the eyes. I began sliding my cock back and forth across her chest, my balls scraping her stomach and breastplate, the tip of the cock just touching her open mouth and reaching tongue.
Her breasts surrounded my cock completely, a soft fleshy embrace that made my cock feel like it was floating, the head emerging only to be welcomed by her beautiful pouty lips. I held onto her shoulders as I slid back and forth, languishing gloriously against her chest. It was better than even my comfortable, familiar imagination every dreamed.
I wanted to come all over her tits, neck and face so badly. I had obsessed over Jeri’s tits for so long it only seemed appropriate, but I wasn’t going to waste an opportunity to fuck this cute little girl.
“Stand up,” I said, and pulled her up. I turned her around and reached around her to begin unbuttoning her jeans. Monica stepped in front of Jeri, one hand deep inside her own jeans, the smell of her arousal suddenly hitting me. I knew that Jeri could sense it as well.
I pulled Jeri’s jeans down her thighs, and bent her over towards Monica, who stood solid as Jeri used her as support.
Jeri’s ass was a completely round bubble, and I didn’t even have to guide my head towards her sopping wet pussy. I sank myself into her slowly, wanting to relish every inch. Jeri grasped at Monica’s legs and waist, trying to keep herself balanced.
I watched as Jeri held on to Monica tighter and tighter, closer and closer. Monica never stopped fingering herself and I watched from behind as Jeri got a close-up view of Monica’s masturbation. I began to hold onto Jeri’s hips as I fucked her a little faster.
“Oh my god!” Jeri suddenly cried out, a little louder than she should have. “Dr. Mike’s fucking me! I can’t believe I’m actually being fucked by my professor!”
Monica’s knees buckled a little as a tiny orgasm went through her. I could only imagine what was going on in her mousey head. She was turned on and the smell of her arousal was strong to me; I can only imagine what Jeri must have thought being so close to Monica’s pussy.
Monica pulled her pants completely down now and started running her hands through Jeri’s hair, but Jeri wasn’t persuaded.
“No,” she said. “No, I’m not…”
I slammed into her from behind, pushing her against Monica’s pelvis, but she refused to go further.
Monica never looked at me, but kept looking at Jeri, and I began to see a side of their friendship that I hadn’t seen before. Monica was just as turned on by Jeri as I was, had wanted her as badly, but couldn’t get anywhere because she was a woman.
Pulling out of Jeri I brought her down to the soft grass with me, turning her onto her back. I spread her legs wide, her feet pointing straight out like arrows, and stroked my cock in front of her. Jeri’s eyes were fixated on me stroking myself in front of her pussy, and didn’t notice Monica taking off her pants completely, her shaved pussy puffy and glistening.
Monica knelt on the grass just beyond Jeri’s head, holding it in her hands as I started to sink myself inside her once more. This time, I could see Jeri’s beautiful breasts begin to undulate with the motion, falling slightly to the side and flattening. Monica’s cradling of Jeri’s head was a ruse, and she started to maneuver herself so that she could lower her pussy down on Jeri’s mouth, but once more Jeri wasn’t having it.
“No,” she said, trying to push her off. “No, I’m straight.”
Monica sat back down on her haunches, disappointed but not deterred. She began running her hands down Jeri’s shoulders, and then caressing her breasts.
Jeri’s discomfort with Monica’s attention seemed to wane a little as her attention focused more on my cock sliding in and out of her. Monica began pinching and teasing Jeri’s nipples, which drove Jeri crazy to the point where she was bouncing on my cock. I rested my hands on the ground and let Monica feed Jeri’s nipples into my mouth. Jeri began to thrash a bit and I felt her pussy grasp at my cock in rapid succession.
Jeri started clawing at the ground as I fucked her harder. It was almost as if she was trying to get away, but of course Monica’s body prevented her from going too far. She began to moan louder, and my paranoia for being caught (and photographed!) came back with a vengeance.
“Be quiet!” I hissed.
“I can’t!” she cried. Her mouth started to open and I could tell she was about to start screaming bloody murder.
That’s when Monica took her chance. In one quick move she spun around and sat on Jeri’s face, looking down at her. From my vantage point I could only see Jeri’s eyes, as wide as saucers. Her breathing was heavy, labored, as Monica held her pussy tightly against Jeri’s mouth.
Jeri screamed as her orgasm hit her, the noise muffled by Monica’s pussy and the loud music coming from the frat house.
Her legs shot straight out, rigid, her entire body tense and convulsing. Monica continued to hold Jeri against her pussy even as she started coming down from her orgasmic high.
My cock, however, wasn’t going to last.
“I’m going to come,” I said, not sure who I was talking to.
Monica looked over her shoulder. “Come inside her,” she said. “I want to lick it out.”
Jeri came again at that moment, the descent from her first climax reversing direction into a powerful uplift. It looked as though she wasn’t as straight as she professed to be. While she screamed into Monica’s pussy again, her orgasm triggered my own, and I felt my cock lunge deeper inside of her.
The first ropes of my come raced through my shaft and into her body. Monica got off to watch, and Jeri lifted her head up to watch me orgasm. I pulled out, still coming, thick ropes shooting out onto Jeri’s belly, breasts, and even falling on her chin.
True to her word, Monica began licking the come off Jeri’s tits, slurping it up with her fingers and following with her tongue. She lingered on Jeri’s breasts and sucked the nipples, obviously still hypersensitive. I moved around to place the head of my cock in Jeri’s mouth again, and watched her take it in slowly and lovingly.
I watched shy, quiet Monica slide down Jeri’s body, cleaning her up of my come. She never missed a spot, and didn’t hesitate to dive between Jeri’s legs. Perhaps she couldn’t wait, or perhaps she thought Jeri might stop her. Either way, she licked Jeri in earnest, and I watched those big, brown saucer-like eyes shoot open again.
Jeri held onto my cock with her mouth like a pacifier. Monica must have been equally as good at licking pussy as she had been sucking cock, because Jeri’s body jerked and spasmed. Obviously Monica actually was an expert on what the clitoris was for, because Jeri’s third orgasm nearly wiped her out.
She released my cock, and sputtered, “No more, no… no more.” And fell back into the grass. Monica got up of Jeri’s body and lay to the side, fingering herself. I crawled over to her and spread her legs. My cock was starting to soften but was still hard enough to penetrate her. Sliding inside of her body reversed the trend and soon I was banging her with a full erection.
I held onto Monica’s ankles, keeping her legs spread wide and up in the air. Monica’s body was splayed open obscenely, vulnerable to my thrusting, using her body and fucking her into oblivion. Jeri regained enough strength to come stand behind me and watch from my perspective.
“Wow,” she said. “I’ve never seen it from this angle before.”
Sweat was pouring off my body as I pounded this skinny little girl. Each thrust reminded me that I would have preferred to be inside Jeri, but Monica’s orgasm had been only a small taster and she was the only one of the three of us who hadn’t had a decent one.
I figured that she wouldn’t take too long, and fortunately I was right. Monica started grunting with each violent thrust, and her pussy was taking a beating.
Normally I love vocal women, but this wasn’t the place or the time to start risking attracting attention. Needless to say, when Monica started in on her high-pitched squeal, I was mortified.
“What is it with you two?” I asked, looking at Jeri.
She shrugged, and then went over to Monica. Thinking fast, she dropped her nipple into Monica’s mouth and let her suckle. Jeri looked at me and smiled, as if to say, Well, turnabout’s fair play!.
Monica came, and I rode her through it. I knew that I wasn’t going to come again so soon, so when she was finished I withdrew and sat back on my thighs, taking deep breaths.
Jeri sat on the ground, and began adjusting her clothing. “So, Dr. Mike,” she said. “Are you still angry with us?”
In a way, I was. What they had done was stupid, reckless, and probably cost me my career. But Jeri’s pixie-ish face was impossible to look at and stay mad, and I found myself starting to smile despite it all.
“Jeri,” I began, but stopped. “Monica…”
Again I stopped, then realized I was holding my breath. I sighed. “Whatever,” I finally said, defeated.
They both came up to me, wrapped their arms around me, and kissed me deep, in turn. I had no idea how I was going to face the two of them when it came time for the next class.
“Let’s go,” I said, getting to my feet. “I’ll give you guys a ride if you want to go home.”
Monica started to get dressed, and while she was facing away from us Jeri leaned up and whispered in my ear, “I’ll give you anything you want, whenever you want. Anything.” She backed away and looked me pointedly in the eyes to ensure that I knew what she meant. She took one of my hands and put it down her shirt so that I could feel her hard nipple, as if that was the seal on the contract.
She took my hand out just as quickly so that Monica wouldn’t see what she had done, and I understood that not everything was shared between them.
——-
“You took a huge risk tonight,” I said, sternly.
“Mmm hmm,” Monica said.
I took the exit onto the highway to bring her back to where she lived, having dropped off Jeri.
“What the hell were you thinking?” I asked. My anger was starting to come back. “We had an understanding, I thought. Putting my career at risk was specifically out of bounds.”
She took her mouth off my cock to answer. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that,” she said.
“I’m listening,” I said, looking down at her.
She licked the tip of my cock before she spoke. “We didn’t know that it was going to be that kind of frat party,” she said. “We were going to try and get you drunk.”
“What?” I said. “Why?”
She said, “Well, Jeri got really drunk a couple of weeks ago and told me that she had fantasies about you.”
I couldn’t help it. My cock jumped in her hand when she said that. She popped it back into her mouth for a couple of seconds, before continuing.
“She started saying that she couldn’t understand why you weren’t paying her any attention. She was wearing all these low-cut shirts but you would never look at her in that way.”
I smirked. Apparently I had been successful after all.
“She was wondering if you were gay.”
I shot her a look, and she giggled. She deep-throated me, and started running her lips along my shaft as she spoke. “I told her didn’t think so.”
“So you didn’t tell her about your ‘tutoring?'” I asked, suspiciously.
She looked hurt. “No! I told you I’d never tell!”
I didn’t say anything.
“Anyway, I thought I’d be able to get her into your pants, and me into hers at the same time.”
“Go on.”
“I thought that if we brought you to the frat party then you’d have a few drinks, loosen up, maybe even get a little drunk. Then we could make an excuse to drive you home and stop off at either her place or mine.”
“I don’t drink with students,” I said flatly.
“Yeah, well, I know that now,” she said, taking a pretend bite of my cockhead.
“Okay, so what happened?” I challenged. “If one of those videos has me in it-”
She silenced me by deep-throating me. Yeah, she really was that good.
“As I said, we had no idea it was going to be that kind of frat party. Second, we didn’t even see you until you had wandered into the middle of that sex show!”
I harumphed, remembering.
“By the time we caught up with you,” she continued, “the entire plan had gone to hell. You were pissed off, and it was obvious we weren’t going to get you to go back to the party.”
“Damn straight,” I mumbled.
“But…” she said, and then started sucking me harder. My foot let off the accelerator in unintended response. She let my cock go to continue, “I saw that she had unzipped you, and you were poking out of your pants.”
I blushed. The girl had completely unzipped my fly and I was very turned on at the time. Monica hadn’t done any magic; she had merely pulled down my already tented underwear. I was so frazzled I just hadn’t noticed!
“I knew that we probably weren’t going to get another chance, and you had given me such a great opportunity,” she said, and started sucking away at my cock again.
“Sonofabitch,” I muttered to myself.
Monica worked her hands and mouth on me and I could feel myself rising to the boiling point again. I knew that I’d drive around the entire state just to let her finish me off.
“What about Jeri,” I said, suddenly. “How did you know she was going to let you touch her?”
She looked at me and smiled, my cock half buried inside her mouth.
“Jeri,” she said smugly, “doesn’t always remember the things she says when she is drunk.”
“So that was the first time for you two?” I asked.
Monica closed her eyes and swallowed my cock. “Mmmm hmmm.”
The vibrations of her voice shot through my cock. I kept one hand on the back of her head as she sucked me and brought my cock closer to the brink.
“Don’t stop,” I ordered. “I want to shoot down your throat.”
She whimpered. “Don’t complain,” I said. “I almost didn’t fuck you tonight just because you set me up.”
Her hand went down her pants again and she started playing with her pussy. Soon she was screaming into my lap, filling my car with the smell of her pussy once more while I tried to figure out whether or not my career was in jeopardy.