The Story of the Professor
Throughout my years at graduate school I, like any other sexual graduate student, often found myself fantasizing about sexual encounters with professors. The professors in my field are often male and frequently unmarried. During my final year, I quickly became aware that my fantasies were not far from reality and I reveled in finding opportunities to satisfy my rather intense sexual appetite.
One warm summer night, a few months away from graduation, there was a celebratory gathering at the campus bar. My friends and I were some of the only students present. There was an intangible excitement growing as the sky grew darker and the number of Coronas consumed increased. I always enjoy flirtatious conversation and there was no shortage that night. Although there was a degree of familiarity to these conversations, things did not grow interesting until I was approached by a professor who was new to the university, and therefore unaware of any unwritten code discouraging relations between staff and students.
I was joined by one of my best friends, Carol, who throughout the year had been partners in crime with me in this regard, although there were some key differences. She also had a large sexual appetite but was not as open about it, and also a bit more nervous to entertain said appetite. But despite hesitation when sober, Carol rarely was able to disguise this appetite when drunk.
By about halfway through the night the professor, Carol and I were inseparable. Discrete touching of hips and intense eye contact, with physical rubbing when we moved to make room for someone to pass in the crowded pub. I started to get pretty wet at this point. Although Carol and I were far from innocent in pursuing him, we were honestly a bit surprised–but none the less incredible turned on–by the degree to which he was pursuing us. The subtle touching and flirtatious conversation continued although got progressively less discrete as the bar closed and we walked to a friend’s house for the after party.
To be continued…
A Moving Story
This story took place a few years ago, when Alison and I were driving across the country. We were moving, from one coast to another, and being poor graduate students at the time, we were driving ourselves across in a Uhaul truck. We found ourselves one evening driving through New Mexico. We should have stopped earlier, but we had gotten off to a late start that morning, and were trying desperately to make it to Texas that night. So it was late, and dark.
I occasionally find myself overcome by fits of horniness on long car trips. I’m not sure where it comes from–you’re in a car with someone all day long, and you are stressed, full of tension, stiff, and generally grumpy. And out of nowhere, I want to ravish them. I look over at Alison in the seat next to me, and I just want to own her body, right that moment. Maybe that’s the turnon–I really want to have her, or even just touch her, and yet we are separated by the gulf of the gear shift, strapped into our respective seats and wary of the prying eyes of truck drivers. Hmm. Bondage, exhibitionism, restrained lust…maybe this does make sense!
A fit such as this overcame us on the eastern edge of New Mexico, somewhere past Tucumcarie. The Uhaul only made things worse. It was a big truck, and there was literally a three-foot gap between us. I could touch her if I stretched my arm out, but only barely. But touch we did.
Then, I heard the click of a seatbelt releasing, and looked over to see Alison releasing herself from her bonds. She had a look in her eyes, and with a smile she kneeled down in the gap between the seats. Suddenly, the gap was useful.
As I kept both hands on the wheel, she slowly unzipped my jeans and drew my cock out of my boxer briefs. As I looked out at the beautiful New Mexico horizon, spotted with sagebrush and purple clouds, I felt her tongue slowly move down the shaft of my penis.
I felt intriguingly trapped. Alison has told me before the story of the first time her teenage boyfriend fingered her. He was driving her to the beach, and he just reached over into the passenger seat and plunged his hands between her legs, and up her skirt. Given that he was older, and a bit of an brute, I thought that this sounded unpleasant, but she said it was incredibly sexy to be trapped in the seat, with her boyfriends fingers exploring her pussy for the first time. (Side note: is it perverted to be attracted to the sixteen year old version of your partner? I mean, she was underage…then. But so was I, at the time, but now I’m older, and so is she, so…epistemological breakdown!)
So now I particularly understood. Trucks were driving by, and in my imagination the drivers were all staring down at her bobbing head, and in my shyness I wanted to pull away and cover myself. But I was trapped by the seatbelt, and by the road. And so I had no choice but to let Alison take over.
And so, I came in her mouth, and she swallowed, wiped her face off, and settled back into her own seat, buckling herself in.
My turn to wait until she was driving.
Don’t worry, the final installment of Our First Threesome is coming soon! As is Alison’s story of a threesome she had in graduate school with her best friend and a member of the faculty. Yes, you read that right!
Our First Threesome, Pt. 2
Chris lived in an apartment in a posh suburb. The place was painstakingly decorated with very luxurious trappings. As he put it, after a year in Iraq, he had no patience with living simply! He poured us wine, and we chatted uncomfortably while we waited for his roommate to leave.
Then, we were alone. We retired to his sofa, which was positioned adjacent to a large window. Looking out, it occurred to me that it was quite easy to see in. Mental note. Alison sat between us, and we each took another nervous sip of wine. It was clearly time to start something.
Chris, the expert, began us. He began us with a horrible, hacknyed line that made me laugh inside, but I don’t blame him–how exactly does one start a pre-arranged, sober threesome? Taking a sip of wine, he told us that “one of the best things about a nice merlot is how it tastes on someone else’s lips.” I smirked, but Alison gamely replied, “well, I guess I should see if you’re right!” He cupped her head in his hand, and leaned in for a kiss.
And we were off! I put my arm around her shoulders, and watched as they kissed each other, inches from my own face. Chris put his hand on Alison’s knee, and I did the same. She broke off kissing him, and swiveled around to kiss me. Chris watched us as intently as I had watched them, and out of the corner of my eye I watched his hand drifting up, her black dress creeping further up against her pale thighs. Alison leaned back a little bit into the couch and spread her legs apart more. Soon his hand disappeared under her her skirt, and she moaned into my lips.
Alison turned back to Chris and they kissed again, while I took my turn with her legs, stroking them and letting my fingers glide upwards, trailling my fingertips across her panties. I could practically feel her crotch throbbing. Meanwhile, Alison was getting busy rubbing her hands up and down Chris’s chest, and soon began working on his belt, and then the zipper to his trousers. Chris was working her tanktop off of her, and she responded by wiggling herself out of her skirt. We two guys were still completely dressed, but Alison, between us, was down to black bra, black panties, and black high heels.
It was at this point that I felt extremely out-of-body. Not in a bad sense. But I was having a little trouble being lost in the moment. All I could think was, my god, my girlfriend is about to reach in and take a hold of a strange man’s cock, right in front of me! Then I made the mistake of looking out the window at the street. Nobody was there, but I realized that everything we were doing in the brightly lit living was on display. Was that hot? I wasn’t sure yet. Maybe.
I felt movement next to me, and looked over to see Alison sliding down on to the floor, on her knees. Chris’s cock was out, and it was indeed very beautiful. More slender than mine, with a pronounced upturn at the end. As she slid down on to her knees, her hand was grasping his cock. Positioned, she flipped her long hair our of her face, looked intently at me, and went down. Chris groaned.
I slid over next to him on the couch, and Alison reached out with her hand to fumble with my pants. I unzipped and took my own cock out, and with her right hand, she began to stroke me up and down while sucking on him. Then she switched, licking me while rubbing him with her left hand. It was now that the out-of-body feeling subsided in favor of a very pleasureable, “my god, I am totally in a porn movie sensation.” Two guys sitting there with their cocks out, a beautiful women in her underwear working on them both, one by one.
Chris stood up, and I did too. Standing next to each other, our cocks were now almost touching. Alison, still on her knees, ran her tongue over both of us, pushing them together. She grasped the two as if their one, and tried for a moment to squeeze them both into her mouth. Unsuccessfully, but soooooo hot. Then, in a slightly suprising moment, Christ also got down on his knees, and suddenly took me into his mouth. I stared down at their two heads pressed together, as they playfully fought to get my cock into their mouthes. How did I get to be this lucky?
At this point our visibility in front of the window became acutely obvious, and Chris suggested we move upstairs. Alison went first, still only in her underwear, and Chris followed her, playfully swatting her lovely ass as she pranced up the stairs in her high heels. He lead us into his bedroom, which was mostly taken up by a large beautiful wooden bed, candles flickering on every surface.
Stayed tune for Part 3: Actual sex begins!
Our First Threesome, Pt. 1
First of all, apologies that these entries are running heavily tilted towards being written by me (George). The point of this blog is for us to be reminiscing together about past experiences, and hopefully to explore our two different (but highly compatible!) approaches to sex and sexuality in th econtext of a committed, lifelong, open relationship. But Alison is crazy busy right now, and I’ve got a lot of free time at the moment. What can you do.
Anyways, I think it would be nice to relate the story of our very first threesome. There is obviously so much background to our relationship that is crucial to these stories, and would in many ways heighten the eroticism. Hopefully over time, these details will fill themselves in. One thing you should know about the following story is that it was our very first time sleeping with an extra person. It was also Alison’s first time having penetrative sex with a man other than me. And finally, it was the first time I was with another man in a very long time!
We’d started with an ad on Craig’s List: I don’t remember the actual text, but it was something along the lines of “couple looking to explore, open to just about anything.” Our newly-inaugurated anonymous hotmail account was flooded with responses from men, some of whom we corresponded with a bit. One older gentleman offered to pay us $150 to sleep with him, which, to be honest, was tempting both for the money and the illicitness! But one email stuck out at us. It was from a guy about our age, who had just returned home from Iraq. To prove it, he’d sent us a picture of himself in uniform, holding a large gun. This is exactly what were looking for, frankly. Half the fun of meeting strangers for sex is the chance to meet people you’d never meet otherwise in your day to day life. We’re both latte-sipping members of the coastal elite, and neither of really knew any members of the military, let alone someone who had been in Iraq.
Plus, he was hot. His face was not his strong point, rough and cragged with protuding teeth. But in addition to the picture with the gun was another he’d taken himself with his arm stretched out. His body was smooth and clean-shaven, his muscles glistening in the flash. His cock lolled insolently out of a patch of red pubic hair. Clever move, that. Every time a guy sends you a picture of his penis, it’s always erect. Sometimes, when a cock is large, and perfect, and beautiful, that can work. But an erect penis shows every imperfection. You can see if it bends weirdly, or has a kink. Misshaven hairs are pushed into relief. Penises of the smaller variety show their inusfficiency. Any irregularity is pushed into utmost clarity by the rush of blood.
Not that you want a fully limp dick either. Nobody likes a limp dick. So our military friend sent us the perfect picture: stiffened, thick, but not fully erect. His cock was engorged with the promise of sex, but also implying there was more work to be done.
We wrote back, and then talked on the phone. Alison did the talking–I’m rather shy–and he seemed to be pleasantly surprised that she was in charge. We agreed to meet a hip wine bar nearby, promising that there would be no sex, just talking about what we would like to do.
I tell you, we were nervous. It seems silly now, but I managed to convince myself that our man was actually kids playing a joke. I was sure that we would show up at the bar and there would be some sort of Punk’d camera crew waiting to embarrass us.
Luckily, this was not the case. Our man–he’s clearly going to need a name, so let’s call him…Chris–turned out to be quite nice. Nervous himself, and with a goofy face. But he also had broad shoulders, and when he looked at Alison he would occasionally lick his lips unconsciously. He asked us what we wanted to do, and we hemmed and hawed. The focus, we explained, was to be on Alison. We wanted this initial experience to be about her, for the most part. Beyond that, we were open to just about anything. No anal for her, though, unless it was coming from me–we’d only recently started having anal sex, and her poor little asshole was nervous at the though of anybody else messing with it. And although both Chris and I were bi, this was a somewhat complicated issue for me at the time, and it wasn’t the right moment for me to be exploring that. Which was fine by him, I think–he’s in the military, and I could tell that his sexuality was…complicated. So, emphasis on pleasing Alison, whatever else happens is just bonus.
All bases covered, we set a date for the following week. We’d meet at his apartment. We’d bring a bottle of wine. And then, we’d all fuck.
Tune in later for Part 2!
Country Sex
Alison’s post reminds me of other good times she and I have had in cars. Come to think of it, I think we’ve only had sex in a car once. We’ve certainly fooled around in cars–I have lost count of the number of blowjobs she has given me while I drive her home from the airport after a long trip, don’t tell the highway patrol!–I’m having trouble remembering another time actual intercourse was involved. Hmm. We should do more of that!
Anyways, this story is not going to be incredibly hot, but it is rather sweet to reminisce about it. It was when we were still in college. It was at the end of the school year, and in preparation for moving out of my dorm room, I had folded down the back seats of my little hatchback, leaving a nice big empty space in my car. We’d been dating about a year at this point, and on that night we were talking about places where it would be fun to have sex. Near us was a large rural area where there were farms, orchards, state parks, and the like. I remembered one particular road that crested a small ridge, with a lovely view of the countryside. I was pretty sure it would be completely empty late at night, so we trundled off in my car to fool around.
It sounds romantic to fuck in such a location, but to be honest, it was a little perfunctory! I think I had an image in my mind of frolicking together in a meadow, but it was cold, so we just clambered onto the folded down back seats. Alison hiked her dress up, I scootched my pants down, one condom later, we were up and going. The windows quickly fogged up (how teenaged were we!) The bottom of the car was scratchy on my knees, and I imagine even more scratchy to Alison’s poor ass. I can’t say it was the most erotic situation we’ve ever been in. Luckily, I was young, so I had no trouble coming quickly. We hitched ourselves back together, clambered back up, and drove quickly back to campus.
A Stranger, a Car
We stopped the car.
We’d just met an hour before. I’d posted an ad on Craig’s list: my boyfriend is out of town, and I need to someone to give me a good, hard fuck. No strings attached, as they say. Dozens of men had responded, and I had a good time exchanging dirty emails and pictures with them. There was the teacher at an exclusive private high school. The businessman in town for the weekend. The lonely low-level administrator at a giant corporation. And then there was this man, who’d sent me pictures of himself lolling on a beach in Europe, and also fucking a bony little woman with a shaved pussy. I wondered who she was, but if he was up for some fun, so was I.
We had a beer or two, and made out some while leaning against my car. It was cold though, and like a wimp he asked if we could get in the car and go somewhere. Neither of us wanted to go to our apartments–I have roommates, god knows what he has at home–so I drove us to a dark parking lot. I crawled over into the passenger seat, fully clothed, and started to rub myself up and down on the erect cock hidden beneath his trousers. I was wearing a skirt, so it was just my panty-covered pussy gripping his crotch. It drove him crazy.
I took off my tank-top, leaving my bra on for the moment. Sliding down into the well of the passenger seat, I unbuckled his pants, and took out his cock. It was not bad, a little smaller than George’s, but nothing to sneeze at, and nicely proportioned. He was uncircumcised–come to think of it, I think he was my first uncut man! How about that.
His cock was hard, and I took it into my mouth, running my hands up and down the erect shaft. He reached around and unclipped my bra, and I let it fall free. My breasts are one of my favorite things about my body–I tend to be very body conscious, but everyone says my tits are to die for. So, why not work them some? I let his cock trail between them, as I moved up and down on it.
But, now time for the fucking I was advertising for. I took off my skirt and stepped out of my panties as best as I could, while he undressed as well, and put on a condom. No worries about the cold now! I clambered up unto of him in the passenger seat where he was still sitting. A little positioning, and I let myself sink down onto his cock. It feels good, but then I lean back against the dashboard and it feels even better. His hands are all over my tits, and I get that rush that comes from knowing a man finds you painfully hot.
Time to move to the backseat. As pleasant as being on top is, I tend to be on the submissive side when sex gets going, and I like nothing more than being fucked hard, especially from behind. Experience teaches me that a guy rarely takes the initiative to do so, so I get on my hands and knees, push my ass towards him, and tell him to fuck me from behind. He grabs me and pulls my ass onto his cock.
We go at it awhile, and he flips me over to fuck me just plain missionary. It’s nice and all, but you know, when a girl tells you to fuck her doggystyle, what kind of guy stops?! I want him deeper in me, so I put my legs up on his shoulder while he hammers away. Still not quite there, so I push my feet up on the ceiling of the card, trying to spread myself as wide as possible, tilting my pelvis up so that his cock thrusts even deeper. (Who says being submissive isn’t work!)
We fuck like this for awhile, and then I decide that it is time for him to cum, and that I want him to cum in my mouth. I tell him this, and he happily pulls out–to be honest, he was kind of running out of steam. I lean over his body, and start to cheerfully suck away, running my hand and mouth up and down his cock. He grabs my hair, which to be honest I kind of like, and finally gushes into my mouth.
It was hot. Never saw him again. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, or a bad fuck, but there’s a lot of guys out there in the world.
