Chapter Six: Holden Moss
I’m not going to lie to you. When the idea of bringing my best friend, Dr. Wynn Driver, into my relationship with Jude Allen first came to mind, I was more than a little hesitant.
It wasn’t because I didn’t think either of them would not be open to the idea. To the contrary, Wynn and I had done more tag-team fuck matches than any wrestler in the World Wrestling Federation. Our tag teams involved one (and sometimes two, three, or more) beautiful, hot, horny women that we shared to everyone’s delight. Call it gangbanging, tag-teaming, or the fancier term: ménage a trois, Wynn and I had fucked a ton of women at the same time. It was kind of our thing. And the women never complained. Ever.
And Jude, well, Jude seduced me by coming into my grad school classroom on the first day of class, sitting in the front row, and spreading her legs to show me her shaved pussy. She was one of the most sexual women I had ever met. She oozed sexuality and desire like a warm cookie oozes… well… whatever it is that a warm cookie oozes and makes you want to have a bite. You know what I mean.
She claimed to be a nymphomaniac, and had a long history of sexual relationships with teachers and professors. In fact, she told me outright that she wanted to be my pet… my teacher’s pet. And one look at her beautiful face and voluptuous body… one quick glance at her perfect, moist, pink pussy, and one taste of her lips left me without any options. She would be mine and I would be hers. There would be no turning back now.
We had sex that very night and every night since our affair began. Jude was a sexual dynamo. An acrobat in bed. With no inhibitions or hesitation. She literally could go all night and never get enough, though she orgasmed in waves one after another and always begged for more. That, she thought, made her a classic nymphomaniac. Oh, and when she came her pussy gushed. And sometimes squirted like a water fountain on high. Jeez, I do so love a woman who squirts…
But, I digress… sigh…
As someone highly trained in psychology, and the inner workings of the human libido and brain, I did not buy into the concept of nymphomania, which is what Jude claimed to be. I informally diagnosed her as being “hypersexual”, which simply meant that she had a very high sex drive and acted upon it. She loved to fuck, so she did. A lot.
Better that than to suppress it as so many people feel the need to do. I believed was why there was so much cheating and infidelity among couples throughout the world these days.
Usually, it’s the man who wants and needs more sex, and his female partner who doesn’t give it to him because she doesn’t have the same hypersexual needs that he has.
Sure, some men cheat just because they are self-centered assholes, but some men literally cannot control themselves. Men who, like me, live and love for the sake of having sex. Yes, I admit it. Fucking is my favorite thing to do, followed closely by getting my cock sucked, and then returning the favors to my lover. If you asked me if I would rather breathe or fuck, I’d drop my pants, work up a hard on, and see how long I could hold my breath while hammering it to a beautiful girl. I’d either cum or pass out. Or perhaps both!
I loved sex.
I loved women.
I loved sex with women.
And I wasn’t so shallow that the woman had to be like Jude: a 15 on a scale of 10. I loved beautiful women, but to me beauty was only skin deep. I had had unbelievable sex with women of all ages, all shapes, all sizes, all colors, and all ethnicities.
Hell, one of my favorite fuck buddies was a fifty-year-old bisexual Russian History professor named Marsha Clarkson. Marsha was short and pudgy, with cropped hair and a penchant for flannel and baggy jeans. She was also one of the most amazing sex partners I’d ever had. Wynn and I gangbanged her the first time after a psyche association meeting in the bathroom at a dive bar called The Royal Crown Club. It was such a fun experience, banging a lesbian in a public restroom, and she was such an amazing fuck that we still tapped Marsha whenever the chance came around. Wynn wanted to seek her out this weekend while he was in town. Then he got a look at Jude.
Marsha was energetic, creative, horny as fuck and not afraid to try anything. We had had sex in restrooms, broom closets, classrooms, her car, my car, and a dozen other places. That was the key, I think. I’d had sex with a lot of beautiful women who spent more time concerned about their hair than making me cum. When Marsha had sex, she went all in. And like the WWF, it was an all-out, no holds barred, see how many positions we can come up with and how much cum we can get out of each other fuckfest. I dreaded the day when Marsha met a nice lesbian and settled down. She would be one player sorely missed in our little world of swinging dicks.
Jude was a lot like Marsha, only forty years younger and a million times hotter. She was tall, naturally pretty, with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes, luscious lips, curvy, with big tits and a tight pussy that she could control like magic fingers around my cock. She was also a brilliant psyche student who would one day hang out her own shingle and help other women deal with the issues that she had overcome.
The thing I loved most about Jude (besides the incredible marathon sex we had) was that she made me happy. Truly happy. Like few women had done before. It was impossible not to sport a silly grin when Jude was around. I sometimes caught myself smiling like the village idiot. She was happy and carefree, even bubbly sometimes, and it was contagious.
And she was this teacher’s pet.
At least for now.
Back to my original thought…
Jude and I had been going at it pretty hot and heavy for a month. And she knew all about my… shall we call them… past group activities… especially with Wynn. I had been blatantly honest with her and she seemed to revel in the tawdry details of our misadventures. In fact, when I told her the story of Wynn and I banging Marsha Clarkson in the restroom at the Royal Crown Club, she got so fucking excited she nearly attacked me.
We talked about three-ways and four-ways and orgies Wynn and I had participated in. We talked about two guys and one girl, and two guys and three girls. I told her about the orgies we’d attended and the swinging we’d done with married couples on and off campus.
When I told her about the time me, Wynn, and another buddy named Jake Rule all three had sex with one girl at the same time, her eyes grew wide and she licked her lips.
“How does that work?” she asked. “Three cocks and one pussy?” She masturbated as I gave her the dirty play-by-play details. She came so hard she squirted all over me and the sheet beneath us.
I let her know right out of the gate that if such things were interesting and exciting for her, maybe I could arrange a little foray into group sex. She looked at me like a kid who had been promised a pony on Christmas morning and said, “That would be… awesome…”
As luck would have it, Wynn was scheduled to come to town for a long weekend to be the keynote speaker at the local Psychology Association annual meeting that I was involved in. When I brought up the prospect of Wynn staying at my house and perhaps partaking of the delights Jude had to offer, she was a little coy at first, but when the clothes came off and the dicks came out, like Marsha, Jude went all in. The three of us fucked and sucked and fingered and probed and prodded most of last night. I was completely exhausted when it was over, as were Jude and Wynn. By the time Wynn and I left my place headed for the morning session at the conference, she was still passed out in bed.
Both of us stood in the bedroom door for a moment watching her sleep. She was lying on her back, naked, breasts rising and falling, legs spread wide, shaved pussy bare, hands over her head. It took every ounce of willpower in both our bodies not to strip off our clothes and climb on top of her. But there would be plenty of time for that later on.