CHAPTER FOUR: Professor Holden Moss
I’d been sleeping with (I suppose that is the politically-correct term these days) Jude Allen for a few weeks when I found out for sure that my best friend in the world, Wynn Driver, was coming back to town. Actually, I was the one largely responsible for bringing him back to Midwestern. The real surprise was that he was willing to take time out of his Hollywood lifestyle to come back and visit those poor souls he left behind at Midwestern.
Our local Midwestern Psychology Association, which consisted mostly of psyche department academics, psychotherapists, psychiatrists, psychoanalysts, mental health professionals, and the like, was having its annual meeting, and who better to address the theme of this year’s gathering—Psychology & Sexuality in The Modern Age— than my old pal Wynn, who had literally written a bestselling book on that very topic.
It did not take much convincing from me for the association board, which was made up mostly of women who had had sex with Wynn when he was a professor of psychology at Midwestern, and women who missed their chance but still wanted to fuck his brains out, to unanimously vote to have Wynn as the keynote speaker on Sunday night. There would be a dinner on Saturday night in his honor, followed by a book signing, and a cocktail party slash meet-and-greet. I found it funny that a group that had frowned upon Wynn’s teachings for years now saw him as their golden child celebrity. I guess getting on the cover of Psychology Today Magazine didn’t hurt. And I knew that there would be a number of female association members lining up to go home with him on Saturday night.
Wynn would call it “like shootin’ fish in a barrel”.
I called it just another night in the charmed life of Dr. Wynn Driver.
Wynn was due in Friday on a late flight, would be crashing at my place for the weekend, and probably expecting to get laid several times while he was in town.
Given the amount of talking I’d done to him on Facetime about the hot new grad student that was sharing my bed, I knew that Wynn’s curiosity had been peaked. Especially when I told him I’d mentioned our threesome adventures to Jude and she seemed interested in perhaps learning more.
And to Wynn that meant he would expect a little taste for himself while he was in town, Jude willing.
Jude was a twenty-two-year, old grad student majoring in psychology, and one of the most amazing young women I had ever met at Midwestern University. She was not only drop-dead-gorgeous, with long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, tall, voluptuous, big tits, round hips, big ass, and best of all, she had an insatiable appetite for sex that nearly matched my own. She was also smart, witty, charming, driven, dedicated, and had a biting sense of humor and a fierce independence I rarely saw in young women her age.
Of course, Midwestern University had a policy that discouraged—but did not strictly prohibit—its professors from fraternizing (again, the politically-correct term) with students. But Jude was old enough to make her own decisions and she was the one who seduced me in my classroom at the start of the summer term, so how could I possibly say no when she sat in the front row and flashed her pussy and then casually invited me to “fuck her brains out” after class? She said she was a nymphomaniac with a Teacher’s Pet fetish, and I was lucky enough to be the teacher she had chosen to bestow her favors upon. It would have been down right rude of me to say no. Right?
It wasn’t as if the thought of having a threesome with Wynn and Jude had not been brought up in conversation, at least not directly. Jude and I had been together for a couple of weeks when the topic turned to crazy things we’d done, this after having spent the past hour fucking in the hot tub next to the pool at Jude’s apartment complex.
We were a little drunk and had already fucked a marathon, but Jude said she had never had sex in a public hot tub so that became our plan. That was another of Jude’s things. She liked having sex in public places—restaurants, bars, public restrooms, the changing room at Macy’s, cars, parks, pools, locker rooms, my class room—places where we might be caught at any minute. She loved the danger of it, the uncertainty. I must admit, I did, too. No place was immune to our call of the wild.
That night, we waited until midnight for the pool to close and for the other residents to go back inside before we snuck down to the pool, stripped naked, and went at it in the warm waters of the hot tub like two horny dolphins.
As Jude and I tended to do when we were in the throes of passion, I guess we made too much noise, and by the time we had cum together like wet banshees we looked up to find that we had an audience. The pool area was surrounded by apartment buildings on all sides that were three stories tall. Practically every light in every building had come on and people were standing out on their balconies watching us have sex. When we were done, we got a standing ovation and hoots and hollers from our audience. Jude didn’t seem to care. She just laughed it off, stood up naked to take a bow, grabbed me by my quickly shriveling dick, and told me to come inside so we could finish our fun in a hot shower.
An hour later, we were lying on her bed sipping wine, still damp from the hot shower, when she playfully gave my cock a tug and asked, “So, that was pretty wild. What’s the wildest thing you’ve ever done?”
“Wild as in?” I needed clarification of the word. To a guy like me, wild could mean a lot of things.
“You know. Wild. Spontaneous. Crazy. Unbridled, unexpected sex with someone you never thought you’d fuck.”
“Someone I never thought I’d fuck... hmmm…”
She rolled her eyes and started petting my cock and balls as if they were a hairless house cat. “Yes, duh, quit stalling and spill, Professor Tight Ass.”
“Well, let’s see…” I honestly had to think about it for a minute because I had done some pretty fucking wild things in my time.
I had lost my virginity to my best friend’s slutty mom, Lois Raintree, when I was just sixteen years old. Her husband Alvin was a chemical salesman who traveled all the time. So, Lois was lonely. A lot.
I still remembered it like it was yesterday. Me and her son, Jimmy, had just come in from varsity football practice, both of us hot and sweaty and smelling like dirt and grass. She told Jimmy to go take a shower because he was stinking up her kitchen. When we heard the shower turn on, she kissed me hard on the mouth, gathered her flowery sundress up and over her round ass, pushed her beige panties down to her ankles, bent over the kitchen table, and ordered me to “ram my young cock into her like a derrick drilling for oil”. She was from Texas, I guess.
So that was the start of my wild sex escapades, but that was probably too tame a story for Jude. I fucked Mrs. Raintree all through high school. She was a great teacher who taught me what to do, how to do it, and what not to do. Lots of women have thanked me profusely over the years for the skills I learned from her. My graduation present was a blowjob in the front seat of her husband’s Chrysler New Yorker in the school parking lot.
Sigh. I wonder where Mrs. Raintree is today.
She’d be… sixty-ish…
Okay, never mind.
I’d had every kind of sex imaginable, in every place imaginable, with every kind of woman imaginable. I was not a snob when it came to women. I loved them all. Younger. Older (well, not sixty). Tall. Short. Thin. Fat. Blonde. Brunette. Red Head. White. Black. Latino. Asian. And I’d had (mostly) incredibly hot sex with them all.
For some reason, the particular thing that came to mind in answer to Jude’s question was the first time Wynn and I double-teamed a Russian History professor by the name of Marsha Clarkson, who, by the way, still taught at Midwestern and was always good for a booty call any time, day or night, even if she was already in bed with someone else, usually one of her lesbian lovers.
“Well?” Jude prodded, tugging my cock like she was playing with a yoyo. “You gonna tell me or not?”
“I was just thinking about which of the ten thousand wild stories to regale you with,” I said, narrowing my eyes at Jude’s beautiful face and pretending to be deep in thought.
“So, hurry up and pick one before my hand gets tired.”
“Well, let’s see… do you know Marsha Clarkson from the history department?”
Jude blinked at me. “Professor Marsha Clarkson? Russian History? Short, a little pudgy. Dresses like a lumber jack? Haircut like a dude?”
I smiled at the description. “Uh huh. That’s the one.”
“Yes, I know her,” Jude said cautiously, giving me a suspicious eye. “Isn’t she a lesbian?”
I chuckled at the look on her face. “Well, let’s just say she plays for both teams.”
“Okay… go on…”
“So, one night me and my pal, Wynn, were having drinks at the Royal Crown Club on Fifth Avenue. Do you know it?”
She gave me a nod, followed by a roll of her eyes. “Yep, stuffy place where academic assholes like you go to drink and hobnob and brag about how important you think you are.”
I smiled again because she could not have been more wrong. “Actually, the RC, as we academic assholes who frequent the place call it, is an academic meat market of sorts. All the professors and administrators from Midwestern go there to drink and… well… meet people.”
Her eyes grew as wide and her lower lip dropped. “Wait a second, are you telling me that the Royal Crown Club is a swinger’s bar for professors?”
“You might call it that,” I said, though she had hit the nail directly on the head. “I prefer to call it a social club for well-educated, highly-intelligent individuals—”
“You man academic assholes,” she said, her hand moving again, now gently milking my cock with her fingers. I felt myself growing hard—again—in her hand.
“Fine,” I sighed. “Where academic assholes go looking to get their pipes cleaned by other academic assholes.”
“It’s a swinger’s club where professors go to fuck other professors,” she said accusingly. “I don’t believe it.”
“Why would I lie?”
Her fingers went tighter around my cock as it grew in her hand. She gave me a demure smile and said, “Okay, tell me more.”
“Well, one-night Wynn and I were there having drinks and Marsha Clarkson comes in with a group of women who, as you call them, appeared to be of the lesbian persuasion.”
“Let me guess; bad haircuts, lots of flannel, hiking boots.”
“That and the ‘I Hate Men tee-shirts, yes,” I said. “Anyway, the place was crowded so we invited Marsha and her party to sit with us.”
“Let me guess again,” she said with a thoughtful look. “You and Wynn were so devastatingly handsome you converted the entire table to heterosexuality and fucked them all right then and there.” My cock kept getting harder as her fingers slid faster over the veiny shaft. “You basically swiped all the drinks off the table, bent old Marsha over, and gave her the hard and fast fuck in her tight little arse hole.”
I smiled and tried to focus my thoughts as the blood began to flow from my brain to my cock. “Not quite. Actually, the other women looked at me and Wynn like we were from another planet they would rather die than ever visit. However, after a few drinks, things loosened up tremendously and Marsha started rubbing my thigh under the table. I looked over and Wynn, who was sitting on the other side of her. He had a devilish grin on his face because she was rubbing his thigh with her other hand.”
“Oh my god, she was coming on to both of you? Right there at the table? No fucking way.”
“She was.”
“Seriously?”
I held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
“Wow, way to go Professor Clarkson.” Jude shook her head and imagined the scene in her mind. “I would have never thought Marsha Clarkson would be your type. I mean, no offense to a sister-in-arms, but she’s not exactly what I’d call attractive.”
“Actually, she is quite attractive,” I said, breathing in and out as Jude’s hand increased the pace. She pressed her thumb to the underside of my cock head and rubbed until little drops of juice oozed from the slit. I put my hands on her shoulders. “Why don’t you… get on top of me for… the rest of this story.”
She gave me a big grin and climbed on top of my rigid cock, which was ten-inches long with a head like a ripe plum. She didn’t slip me inside her just yet. She pushed my cock down and straddled the shaft with her pussy lips and started sliding up and down, lubricating me, teasing me. The heat of her juices washing over my cock and balls made me sigh.
“Okay, how’s that… mmm… go on… you were just about… to fuck Professor Clarkson…”
“Actually, she was just rubbing our thighs at that point,” I said, smiling at the feeling of her soft, hot pussy lips sliding up and down the shaft of my long cock from balls to tip. “Um… anyway… her hand moved up until she was rubbing both our cocks…”
“No way.”
“Way…”
“So, you and Wynn tag teamed her in the ladies’ room,” Jude said. She pressed her palms to my chest and dug in her finger nails till it made me wince. “Go on. Details. Give me… oohhh… details…”
“Well, the other ladies at the table had also gotten… pretty drunk and were… ah… making out like they were at a Roman orgy. That’s when Marsha took her hands from our cocks… and put an arm around each of our necks… and pulled us close so… she should whisper in our ears.”
“And what… pray tell… did she say?”
“She said… how bout you boys come into the ladies’ room… and fuck my brains out… To which we replied… ‘yes fucking ma’am’…!”
Jude closed her eyes as her pussy glided over the underside of my cock, drenching me with her hot oils, setting me on fire. She gasped each time her clit slid over the underside of the head. “And… oh… yes… right… there… tell me… more… what… happened… next…”
“We went into the ladies’ room… which happened to be vacant,” I said. I put my hands on Jude’s hips to help her keep the rhythm of her pussy sliding over my cock. “Marsha stripped off her clothes to reveal a pretty rocking little body… Turned out… she was a… into yoga… seems that flannel… hid it well…”
“She wasn’t… pudgy…”
“There was nothing pudgy about her, as you say,” I said, now finding it hard to steady my breath. “She needed fashion help… but her body was pretty fucking hot…”
“What… then… ohhh…”
“It took me and Wynn about ten seconds… to go from fully dressed to fully naked. We were both… drunk as shit… and hard as a rock. You think my cock is big? Wynn has me by at least a good two inches.”
“Why do I get the impression that you two perverts had a cock measuring session?” Jude asked, grinning down at me. “Be honest, you two are actually flaming gay, right?”
I chuckled because Wynn and I had talked about the fact that we were two of the most heterosexual guys on the planet, yet we were totally comfortable being naked around each other. Or having our cock and balls meet when we were fucking the same end of the woman.
“No, you have my word… we are as straight as… our cocks are long,” I said with a grin.
“Okay, I’m going to take your word for it,” Jude lifted herself up and held my cock steady with one hand. Slowly, she lowered her pussy on to my cock and sighed like it was pushing the air from her lungs. “There… that’s… better… now… more… tell me… more…”
“Marsha took a cock in each hand… and started milking us both…” I said, trying to focus on my story, which was hard given that Jude was sliding her tight pussy up and down the shaft, impaling herself on my rod until the tip hit her cervix, then back out and in again. She reached down with two fingers and started rolling her clit between them.
Her voice became a whisper. “Oh… more… go on… more…”
I did my best to continue. “Marsha milked us both… she was kissing me while… Wynn played with her tits… which were natural and quite… large… I might… oh… add… My hand went to her pussy… she had a thick bush… could have… used a trim… but her pussy was… oh… shit... Jude… fuck… her pussy was so wet it… dripped on my… fingers…”
“Which one of you… fucked… her first…” Jude’s eyes were closed now. Her fingernails were digging into my chest. It hurt like fire, but I didn’t care. Her hips were sliding back and forth, back and forth…”
“We… played with each other… for a few minutes… then Marsha told us she wanted to… suck my… oh… fuck... uh… she wanted to suck… my cock while Wynn… fucked her… from behind…”
“Did you… care which end… you got…”
I smiled. “Fuck no… I was happy to … fuck her… mouth… if that’s what… she wanted…”
“Mmmm… I love sucking… your cock… go on…”
“So, I leaned back against… the sink… and Marsha… bent forward and cupped my balls… in one hand… and started pumping… the shaft… while she sucked… on the head… Wynn got behind her… put his hands… on her hips… and… and… and… started to… shove his big cock… into her… hairy box…”
“Oh… fuck… Holden…” Jude moaned, her hips moving faster now. “Play… with my tits… play with… my fucking… tits…”
I reached up and filled my hands with Jude’s luscious melon tits, so milky white and perfect, with dark areolas and plump pink nipples that reminded me of gum drops. When I squeezed her nipples, she let go a long, low moan.
“Wynn started fucking her… from behind… hard… slamming into her as… deep as he… could go… rocking her… into me… as she sucked my cock… She reaches around me… and starts squeezing my… ass cheeks… digs her fingers in deep… starts teasing… my asshole…”
“Mmmm… I know you love that… my finger… in your… ass… while… I suck your… big cock..”
“Yes… I do…” I moaned. “So… Marsha is giving me… one hell of a blowjob… which was… surprising… since… she spent most of... her time eating… pussy…”
Jude giggled and quickened the pace. She was fucking me faster now, coming down harder on my cock, forcing me deeper inside her.
“Wynn said… he was gonna… cum… and I said… I was gonna… cum… so Marsha stands up… lets my cock fall out of her… mouth… and Wynn’s cock slides… out of her… pussy… She gets down on her knees between us… and jacks us both off… until we cum at the same time… all over her face and tits…”
“Oh… holy fuck…” Jude said, her hips pummeling faster on my cock. “Holy… fucking… hell… I’m going to… fuck… more… Holden… tell me… more… fuck… hurry… what else…”
I squeezed her tits as I felt my balls get hot and tight. I was a volcano about to erupt in the sweetest pussy I’d ever had the pleasure to cum in. I tried to finish the story before we both popped.
“So… we both shoot… ropes of milky cum… all over her tits… She keeps milking… milking us… hands going… crazy… then she screams… at the top of her… lungs … ‘I’M CUMMING, BOYS!!” We hear what we… thought was water running… we look… down and… Marsha is squirting… all over the floor… I mean… her pussy is gushing… like a broken pipe… all over… pooling beneath… her… and she’s still… pumping our cocks…”
“Oh… fuck… oh… I’m... cumming… Holden… oh… fuck… yes… yes… yes… YES!!!!!”
I grabbed onto Jude’s hips as she came in waves, hot juices washing over my cock and balls like the ocean tide coming in on a hot summer night. I came with her, shoving my thick cock inside her tight box as far as it would go and filling her with my hot milky goo. She bucked on top of me like a rodeo rider. I arched my back until she was lifted completely off the bed.
“Oh... fuck…” she finally sighed, falling onto the bed next to me. She rested her cheek on my sweaty chest and sighed. “Then what happened?”
I was trying to catch my breath. I, too, was covered in sweat and sticky stuff. I blinked at her. “What?”
“She jacked the two of you off onto her face and tits, then squirted all over the floor,” Jude said. “What happened next?”
I smiled. “She just said thanks guys and told us to fuck off.”
“She did not.”
“She did, too. She told us to put our clothes back on and get lost so she could clean up her mess”
“Why, that ungrateful bitch,” Jude said with a devious grin. “She just used and abused you two bozos then kicked you out. I guess she could have ordered you to get a mop and help clean up.”
I put my free arm behind my head and gave her a little nod. “Yes, it was just terrible. I had never felt so used in my life.”
“I bet,” she said with a grin. “Did she ever use and abuse you two bozos again.”
I had to grin at the look on her face. “A few times. It turned out that stuffy Professor Clarkson was quite the sex maniac.”
“Oh my god,” Jude said, rolling her eyes. “Guys are terrible. I swear, you’d fuck a goat if there were no women left on the planet.”
“Well, now, that would depend on the look and temperament of the goat,” I said. I put my left arm around her and pulled her close. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Would you ever want to do a three-way with me and Wynn? Is that something you’re open to? Being with two men at the same time?”
She was quiet for a few seconds, then quietly said, “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Never done a three-way? No history of raging orgies in your past?”
She put her chin on my chest so she could look me in the eye and shook her head. “No, I’ve always been a one fuck at a time kind of girl. I’ve never really thought about it. But you know my motto.”
“I didn’t know you had a motto,” I said, brushing a strand of hair from her damp forehead.
“Sure, I do.”
“Well? What is it?” I asked.
She leaned up to bite my bottom lip. “Never say never.”