CHAPTER THREE: Judith “Jude” Allen
“I can’t believe you’re reading this book,” Izzy said after plopping down on the sofa next to me and picking up my dog-eared copy of What’s Your Vagina Thinking? from the coffee table. I had been sitting peacefully on the couch in our little off-campus apartment working on the dissertation for my Master’s psychology class when she blew into the room like a hurricane and started giving me crap.
Izzy—Isabelle Miranda Parks, to be exact—was a beautiful black girl from Atlanta who was mastering in clinical psychology at Midwestern. She was tops in her class and had a brilliant mind for psychology, though her boisterous personality and foul mouth would probably belie that fact to anyone who didn’t know her.
Izzy had been my roommate and best friend since freshman year. Now, four years later, we were both in grad school at Midwestern and were just a few semesters away from starting our professional lives.
Izzy as a clinical psychologist and me, well, I wasn’t sure what I would do with my life yet. I would graduate with a Master’s in Psychology, but I was now thinking about getting my Doctorate, so I could practice as a psychiatrist.
Honestly, like so many people do, I got into psychology to address my own mental health issues, to figure out my own warped shit, primarily because I thought I was a nymphomaniac with an older man complex.
Now, with the help of my lover, Professor Holden Moss, I had figured out that I wasn’t really a nympho, just a horny bitch who liked to fuck older guys. Just coming to that revelation cleared the way for me to devote my time to helping others do the same.
“Why aren’t there any pictures of actual pussies in this book?” Izzy asked, clicking her tongue as she flipped through the book written by Holden’s best pal, Dr. Wynn Driver. “Girl, there ain’t a single pussy in this book, thinking or otherwise. That title is false advertising!”
“The title is a metaphor,” I said, doing my best to sound serious despite the smile that was itching at my lips. “It’s about the female anatomy’s effect on the brain.”
“Like a man thinking with his dick,” she said, shaking her head as she scanned the chapters.
“Yes, pretty much.”
“What the fuck ever,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Still, if the title says it’s about a thinking pussy, I wanna see pictures of thinking pussies!”
“Maybe your pussy thinks too much,” I said, giving her a sideways grin.
“Girl, the problem with my pussy is Earl don’t give it time to breathe, much less think!” She cackled at herself and slapped the book on her thighs. Izzy had been dating Earl Winston, the extremely cocky and arrogant captain of the Midwestern University Buccaneers, for nearly three years. Earl had offered to fix me up with his football buddies, but I had always declined. I was never into jocks that much, and now that I was involved with Professor Holden Moss, Earl had stopped trying.
It wasn’t that I averse to screwing a hunky football player every now and then, but I preferred sex with educated men. Okay, the truth was, I loved the idea of being The Teacher’s Pet—and no I did not consider that to be a psychology issue I had to deal with.
I loved being dominated, commanded, directed, coddled, being taken care of. And I loved giving as good as I got. I had always been attracted to smart men… brilliant men… teachers… professors... doctors… scientists… sorry, no lawyers (a girl has to have her standards). For some reason, the thought of sleeping with a lawyer just made my skin crawl.
Izzy turned the book over and grunted at the photo of the author on the back. “Mmmm mmm mmm… Now there’s a man I could do some damage to. Wynn Driver… wonder if he likes hot chocolate?”
“I’m sure he does,” I said with a smile. “From what Holden tells me, Wynn Driver loves women of all shapes, sizes, colors, ethnicities…”
She held up the book so I could see the photo of Wynn and tapped a long fingernail to the book. “Wait a sec, this is your man’s best friend? The one you told me about? Rich dude, lives on the beach in California? Used to teach psychology here at Midwestern?”
“Yes, that is the Wynn Driver that Holden is always talking about,” I said with a nod. “They’ve been best friends since their freshman year at college. I think Wynn was sleeping on Holden’s couch when he landed that book deal and got stinking rich.”
“I think I saw him on Ellen,” Izzy said, narrowing her eyes at the handsome face in the tiny photo. “So, this is the man who will fuck anything with a pulse,” she said, pressing two fingers to her wrist. “Well… lookee here… I just happen to have a pulse… And a thinking vagina…”
“I never said that he would fuck anything with a pulse.” Izzy was wearing a pair of black lace panties and a tee-shirt with no bra. It was her usual attire when we were home alone. I glanced at her long legs stretched out in front of her, feet on the coffee table, ankles crossed, and poked her with an elbow. “But I’m pretty sure he’d be all up in your hot chocolate bidness.”
“Well, my hot chocolate bidness might just have to let him come all up in here if he ever comes to town.”
“He’s coming into town later tonight,” I said. I could hear the anticipation in my voice. If Wynn was half the man Holden proclaimed him to be, it might prove to be quite an interesting weekend.
“That man right there is coming here? What for? Why would anyone escape this shitty little town and come back?”
“He’s speaking at the psyche conference this weekend. He’s staying at Holden’s for a few days.” I nodded at the book. “That’s why I’m reading that book, to get an idea of who he is and what he’s all about.”
“Well, my vagina is thinking that maybe he can check your vagina’s pulse while he’s here,” Izzy said. “Or check your internal temperature with his big, thick thermometer cock.”
“How do you know he has a big, thick thermometer cock?” I giggled at the concept of Wynn Driver taking my internal temperature with his cock, which Holden swore was nearly a foot long. The thought made the juices between my legs start to flow.
“Look at those eyes,” Izzy said, holding up the book. “Man looks at you like that, it means he has a big cock to back that shit up.”
“You’re nuts.”
“Hey, you said him and Holden were gangbangers.”
“I said they had done three-ways before. I never called them gangbangers.”
“You say three-way, I say gangbang,” she said, her dark eyes dancing with delight. “I’ve never been gangbanged myself. Wonder what it would be like. Having two cocks going at you at once. How does that even work? One in your mouth and one in your pussy, like book ends? Or one in your pussy and one in your ass… Lordy… talk about a tight fit…”
“You’re asking the wrong person,” I said with a sigh, even though I had wondered—and dreamt of—the same thing myself several times since learning that Wynn was coming to visit.
“Am I asking the wrong person, really?”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “What does that mean?”
She shrugged one shoulder and flipped more pages. She wasn’t reading. She was just avoiding looking at me. “Well, it’s just that, you know, out of everyone I know you are the most… shall we say… experimental and open when it comes to sex?”
“So?”
“So, if the opportunity to do the nasty with your boyfriend and his best friend came up, would you say yes, or would you say no?”
“Holden is not my boyfriend.”
“You’re avoiding the question.” She turned sideways on the sofa and tucked her long legs beneath her. She poked me in the arm with a stiff finger. “Come on, Jude, fess up. If Holden Moss and Wynn Driver wanted to do double duty on that cute, tight ass of yours, would you say yes, or would you say no?”
“I’d say that was none of your business,” I said with a smile.
She gave me a “point proven” smile in return. “See. I thought so. Whoo, girl, I see some gangbangin’ in your future. Just don’t let them two big cocks stretch you out at once. That pussy might never be the same.”
“Whatever,” I said, forcing a smile. Izzy was right. It was true that Holden and Wynn had double-teamed lots of girls. Holden had told me stories about their adventures that got me so worked up I literally raped him on the spot. And I’d be lying if I said the thought of having sex with both of them at once had not entered my mind on more than one occasion. I loved having mad sex with Holden, but we were two consenting adults who were not caught up in petty jealousy or commitment. We fucked each other like breeder rabbits, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t fuck others, as well.
“You’re awful,” I said, trying to tug the book from her hands. She pulled the book away and clutched it between her mounding breasts. “And you’re also full of shit.”
“How am I full of shit?” I asked.
“What’s your vagina really thinking, Jude?” she asked with a sly grin. “Lord knows the poor thing has been working overtime since you took up with Professor Holden Moss. Is there room in there for this Dr. Wynn Driver dude?” She leaned over and lowered her voice. “One big cock in your pussy and another in your ass? Mmmm mmm good…”
I rolled my eyes at her. “Jeez, Izzy, stop!”
“Who knows,” she said, head bobbing, eyebrows arched. “Maybe they have a third buddy who could shove his cock in your mouth while they’re going at you from the other end. What would you call that? A four way? A quadruple fuck? What?”
“Izzy! You’re awful. Stop it!”
“You stop it,” she said, holding out the book with Wynn’s picture showing. “Hell, if you won’t fuck them both maybe I will.”
I snorted a laugh and snatched the book from her hands. “Oh yeah, and then Earl will kill both of them.”
“Might be worth it,” she said, smacking her lips. “Two big cocks at once. My, my, my what a lovely way to go!”
Yes indeed, I thought as I stared at the photo of Wynn Driver, with the image of Holden Moss clearly in my mind.
What a way to go.