Chapter 1

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Romantic, Slow, School, .

Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Two young people, poised on the verge of career success, undergo crisis and temptation.

Coach Martin thrust out the little slip of paper at him. Ivan Horton looked down at it, then back up at his coach, who didn't look at him at all. He was busy talking on the phone. As Ivan hesitated, the coach pressed the 'hold' button.

"It's the best I can do for you, son."

Ivan didn't move.

"Is there something else?"

Ivan took a breath to begin his speech. "Coach, I..."

The older man put up a hand like a traffic cop to stop him from saying anything more.

"Now, I normally wouldn't go this far, but with your record, I thought we owed you something. Ivan, every year at the opening team meeting we told you guys to take care to make sure that your credits were in order. Instead of listening, you were daydreaming about which cheerleader you were gonna bed next. You should have had your priorities in order."

"Coach, I always had the utmost respect for your daughter..."

The older man's stunned, angry glare stopped Ivan in mid-sentence. A wrong assumption, Ivan had always thought that Coach knew about the little affair in sophomore year. Ivan had made a lot of bad assumptions of late and realized that he was lucky that to have that little slip of paper.

"I've got a recruiting prospect on 'hold' right now. This is all I can do," the coach said. He released the 'hold' buttons and reumed his conversation.

Ivan turned to shuffle out of the coach's office. He took a long look around because he knew that it would be his last one. As he reached the door he heard Coach's voice behind him.

"Take care of yourself, Ivan.".


Jerry McMahan was waiting for Ivan as he came out of the door of the Athletic Office.

"What'd Coach say?"

"He told me 'no dice', what did you think he'd say?"

"I dunno," Jerry replied, "I thought he might do something."

"Well, you thought wrong," Ivan retorted.

"Don't feel bad," Ivan's friend consoled. "I'm in the same boat as you are. You don't see me complaining. Think about all the pool we can play over the summer. We'll have the fraternity house to ourselves."

"That might be good enough for you, Jerry, but not for me. I could be makin' big bucks on Wall Street this summer, but instead, I'll be stuck here taking Bio 101."

Ivan stole a glance and his friend looked downcast.

"Sorry," Ivan said, "I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I'm just disappointed, that's all."

"Sure—okay," Jerry said. "I was just trying to look on the bright side. Are you saying that the coach didn't do anything for you at all?"

"There is no bright side," Ivan answered. "all the coach would do is set me up with a tutor for the course. Big deal!"

"Well, that's something," Jerry said.

"That's the difference between you and me," Ivan shot back. "I want it all. You're satisfied with whatever you're given. That's why I was a Quarterback and you were a tackle."

"Hey, you're outta line, Ivan, Jerry protested.

"Why're we talkin' about this anyway," Ivan asked. "Let's go get a beer and shoot some pool."

Ivan's friend shook his head but followed along as the two made their way across the campus to the fraternity house.

The final months of Ivan's college careerm which began at the end of football season and was supposed to have ended at graduation had been a time of rude awakenings. First, he found that professional football teams were not impressed by the exploits of an Ivy League star. That was a disappointment but not the biggest surprise. The real shock came when he was ordering his cap and gown for the graduation ceremony and found out that he wouldn't need them. The neglected biology course, required for his diploma was the problem. He tried everything he could to get the requirement waived, but the Dean insisted: "no 'Bio'—no diploma".

It was four uears earlier, but seemed such a short time ago, that Ivan found himself a newly-arrived celebrity football recruit. In those early days all the coaches and alumni boosters had told him "if there was anything that he needed, just ask." Ivan didn't ask for much. He took what he wanted without asking. The world seemed to acknowledge his right to it. Ivan gave back, too. He ran and passed his way to stardom through four seasons of football crusades, guiding the team to winning seasons in each of his four years.

Considering his exploits on the football field, he assumed that the Athletic Department or a wealthy alumnus would persuade the Dean to relent and let him graduate on time. It didn't take long to find that his assumptions about that were wrong, just like those about the coach's daughter and the pro scouts. As he ambled back to the fraternity house he pondered his plight.

"I'll never pass Bio," he reminded himself. "It's a useless course for me, anyway."

It hadn't been an act of forgetfulness that made Ivan lose track of those bio credits. He had enrolled in the course once and dropped it because he knew that he had no chance to pass. He'd told hiself to forget about it, until the approaching graduation day made it impossible to forget it.

He told his parents of the error. They were patient, as always. His fiancée, Robin, her family and the upcoming wedding was a different story. During the past weekend he had given them the unpleasant news. What a scene that had been!

Robin couldn't seem to stop sobbing. Her parents shook their heads with that 'I told you so' look. It was humiliating, but that wan't the only thing ... Robin's father had promised Ivan a position in his Wall Street investment bank after graduation. There were two conditions: marriage to Robin and an Ivy League sheepskin. Ivan was certain that the job offer would not survive past August if the missing biology credits and elusive diploma were not in hand. He was sure that Robin would have no part of a life that lacked the security of that lucrative fiefdom in the family empire.

"I hate the thought of summer-school, but I've got no choice."

As Ivan walked along with his friend, Jerry beside him, he took a look at the scrap of paper with the tutor's name and number scrawled on it. It was his ticket—sort of a ticket--to get his ticket punched.

He read the name: Rebecca Isaacson. He recognized the phone number as being from College Town. It was a Bohemian area adjacent to one end of the campus where crammed, ramshackle apartments were perched over pizza parlors and coffee houses. Ivan didn't go there very often; it wasn't his style.

"You've gotta do what you've gotta do," he said to himself.


Ivan felt lucky to be engaged to Robin. She was a 'knockout' by any standard. Tall and statuesque, she was blond and blue-eyed. Her body was toned and her large breasts stood proudly out from her chest. Ivan was required to cup, caress and suckle them on command, but forbidden to call them by name or mention them at any time. Robin had a classic face whose features were accented by ever-so-correctly applied cosmetics that came from the finest stores.

She was a popular coed, a member of the most popular sorority. She was princess of one of The Hamptons baronies that predated the American Revolution, the youngest child, the only daughter. Her mother was in the DAR. Her parents' home looked like a castle at the end of a long, gravel lane. The lawn could be mistaken for a golf course fairway. There was an view of the ocean. The wedding would be held on the grounds. It was opulent and to Ivan that made it intoxicating.

Ivan and Robin met late in their junior year at a 'mixer' between her sorority and his fraternity. Robin was the best choice among the women. Ivan stepped up for his accustomed first pick. Robin seemed thrilled to have the campus hero with the finely buffed muscular frame in pursuit. Soon they were an item. Then, her parents showed interest because of his gridiron fame. He was always on his best behavior in their presence. As graduation approached, the nuptials were announced.

Robin had run-of-the-mill bedroom skills with her perfect body filling in the gaps. Ivan's challenge was to satisfy his appetite from a menu with a single entrée. Robin did a good job at making him accept monogamy. Whatever she did not do for him, she promised to save 'for the honeymoon'. He made sure his friends knew that he was 'getting it' from the best looking babe on campus, and that was a big plus. Yes, Ivan held all the cards in those days and played them just right.

The Biology problem had to be solved.


Rebecca Isaacson sat in her professor's office. His name was Boyd Gilbert, PhD, Professor of Biology. By reputation, his name was synonymous with dedication to his chosen science, avowing a monk-like existence in a sacred quest. He was like the Knights-Templar of old, a warrior-monk for the department, chasing the holy grail of alumni donations and government research grants. His vows did not prevent him from the pursuit of wealth, or for the favor of whatever department female he fancied. Like the Knights-Templar, his victories and status granted him indulgence from his vows.

On tbhis day Rebecca sat across his desk from him because of his summons to her. She was a top student, now about to earn her baccaulaureate with honors. She had been accepted into the Masters' program with a tacit promise of a Graduate Research Assistantship to pay her way. She earned it with hard work and talent, driven to excel in her field. Rebecca spurned anything that diluted her effort in that regard, including a relationship with a young man earlier in the school year.

Rebecca knew of Gilbert's reputation with the ladies. She had even been told by friends that a single evening spent in the professor's bed would yield up the coveted Graduate Assistantship. She wanted no part of the shortcut.

"They can give it to me because I've earned it these past four years and I deserve it," she told her friend, Naomi.

"What's the difference?" her friend countered. "The important thing is to get you hands on that Assistantship. What would be the harm? It's not like you're attached to anyone—and you've certainly been in bed with enough men. It would just be one more."

"It would make a big difference to me," Rebecca shot back. "I sleep with whom and when I want to—and for the right reasons. I'm not going to sell myself, and I shouldn't have to."

"A lot of girls have," her friend reminded her. "I would if I had to."

"Let's not talk about it anymore," Rebecca snapped.

The two fell silent and returned to sipping their herbal teas.

Rebecca dressed to go to the meeting with the Professor in the uniform of the day for the College Town set: white tee-shirt, denim bib overalls two sizes too large, black knee socks and sneakers. Her black hair was tied behind her and over that was tied a triangular scarf of thin cotton cloth that covered the crown of her head. Her eyes were hidden behind glasses with thick black frames. She wore no makeup or jewelry, except for her watch, which was pinned to the bib of her overalls, and a thin gold chain with a chai hanging from it.

She always claimed that her attire was designed for comfort and practicality, although she admitted that the expression of her conformity with the nonconformity was appealing. She was, after all, a young, independent Jewish woman from Nassau county on Long Island so why not show it? Not all of her Jewish sisters dressed this way. Some had a fashion-first look to portray their next to New York City roots. Rebecca crossed in and out of her traditional and 'counter' look with ease.

Professor Gilbert sat at his desk in a large, leather chair. Rebecca sat across from him and waited for her mentor to begin. The professor frowned, which Rebecca judged to be a response to her 'kibbutz look'.

"Rebecca," he began, "I asked you to come in for two reasons."

Rebecca leaned forward to listen because she had a feeling that her Assistantship was on the line.

"First," he continued, "I am pleased to tell you that your position as Graduate Research Assistant has been approved for the next semester."

Rebecca gushed. "Professor, that's wonderful! You don't know how happy I am! You won't be disappointed, I promise."

"The only guarantee is for next semester," he cautioned. "You've impressed me in your undergrad work, Rebecca. I hope someday you'll take a doctorate from this institution, but who knows..." His voice trailed off.

"The second reason, Professor?" Rebecca wasn't quite done gushing.

"We need you to tutor a young man so that he can pass Bio 101 this summer. He has your name and number. He'll get in touch with you. I think that he is one of the football players that didn't get his requirement in for graduation."

Of course, Rebecca was planning to stay the summer, but this assignment was unwelcome. A summer of working on projects in the lab meant plenty of free time for bicycling around the nearby lakes, visiting her parents in Nassau County, maybe finding a new boyfriend. Besides, she didn't like the 'jock' type. She didn't know many of them, but she knew what they were like: beer guzzling brutes that were loud and crude. She wanted no part of it.

"Professor Gilbert" she replied, "I don't think that I can do this. I don't have any teaching experience and I don't think that I'll have time."

"You'll have to make time," he answered. "It's only Bio 101. If you can't handle that I've mistaken your abilities."

"But Professor Gilbert..."

"Look, Rebecca," he continued as leaned forward in his overstuffed chair, "a rich alumnus, who's a sports booster, asked me, personally, for this. He is also considering a research grant for this department. You're a grad student now. You'll find that that your job includes favors like this."

Rebecca cast her eyes down. "Of course, Professor."

"Good!" he exclaimed. "Well, that's all for today. I'll see you next week".


On Graduation Day morning Ivan woke up with Robin sleeping alongside him. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was three-thirty in the morning. They were still nude. Robin slept on her side with her back to him.

Ivan carefully pulled down the sheet that covered them to get a better look at his nude fiancée. He never tired of letting his eyes roam over her body. Although he could only see her back, he was reminded what he loved about her. She was soft, yet lean. Her skin was blemish-free. Robin's backbone blazed a trail that pointed to her sculpted buttocks. He couldn't see them under the covers, but he knew her legs below were perfectly shaped, too. Before he could contemplate the front he decided to wake her for another round of sex. Their earlier session had been unsatisfying. Ivan sensed that Robin was going through the motions. He nudged her to start the waking-up process.

Robin turned on her back, yawned and stretched. Her award-winning breasts were finally on display. (Well, they would win awards if there were such prizes and if Robin was willing to display them for that purpose.).

"I'm glad you woke me up! I've got to get you out of here," Robin whispered. She had smuggled him into her sorority house bedroom against the rules.

"That's not what I had in mind," Ivan answered. He pressed his hardened member against her flank, in case Robin didn't know what he had in mind.

"Just put that thing away, Ivan! You're leaving now—you're not supposed to be here." She was already putting her clothes on, and throwing Ivan's discarded clothes at him.

"What are they gonna do, throw you out? You're graduating tomorrow."

"I don't care, you're leaving now!" she snapped back at him.

Soon, Ivan found himself walking back to the fraternity house disappointed.

He realized that Robin had good reason for not wanting to get caught with 'contraband' in her room. In the morning her parents would arrive for the graduation ceremonies. A discovery of Ivan by the wrong person would surely bring a snide remark as she showed Mom and Dad around the sorority house. Besides, she had last minute packing and cleaning to do before they arrived.

Ivan did not attend the graduation. He met Robin and her parents as planned at her sorority house afterward. He was duly scrubbed and primped in his navy blazer and khaki slacks, blue oxford shirt and striped tie. His athlete's physique underneath brought the whole look together. He wanted to remind Robin's father that he looked just how a young Wall Street knight-in-armor should, and he hoped for some redemption for his confessed academic sins the weekend before.

He spied the three of them near their Mercedes in front of the sorority house. He stepped forward smartly and grasped the older man's hand in a firm handshake.

"Hello, sir!" he intoned. "I hope that you had a pleasant trip."

Robin's father gave no expression and passively returned the pleasantry.

"Yes, fine, thank you, Ivan."

Off to the side, Ivan caught a glimpse of Robin's mother—a woman somewhat younger than her husband—trying to be discrete as she licked her lips and resurveyed the young man from his broad shoulders to his muscular buttocks. Ivan thought little of it. Women did that to him all the time.

Ivan turned to her.

"Always nice to see you, Mrs. Tutlock."

She just nodded and smiled.

The four loaded into the Mercedes. They soon arrived at a fancy restaurant a short distance outside of the campus, where they luncheoned. As they ate, Mr. Tutlock questioned Ivan about his progress on his biology course.

"So, you're enrolled in your Biology course for the summer session?"

"Yes, sir."

"And it's the only credit that you're missing for degree, do I understand that properly?"

"Yes, Mr. Tutlock," Ivan assured his father-in-law-to-be. "I'll be staying at the fraternity house for the summer. By august I'll have my diploma. I even have a tutor that coach arranged for me."

"Let's be sure of that," Mr. Tutlock warned.

Out of the corner of his eye Ivan spied Robin frowning.

"Daddy, can't Ivan come down and stay with us on the estate on weekends?"

Ivan figured that Robin was taking no chances. She didn't like leaving him alone on campus unattended through all those hot summer months and she had already guessed that his Bio tutor was of the female variety as most Biology Grad Students tended to be. She would make sure he knew on which side the bread was buttered.

"Of course, Bobbie!"

'Bobbie' was Mr. Tutlock's nickname for Robin. No one else was allowed to use it. He turned to his wife, "We wouldn't dream otherwise, would we Beryl?"

"Of course, Marsden!"

As the meal ended, Ivan spoke up and suggested that his parents might be invited for a pre-wedding get together some weekend during the summer.

Robin's father responded, "Oh, well, we'll have to look into that, won't we? But Ivan, isn't it such a long drive from Batavia?"

"About eight hours, sir. But I know that they would do it."

Ivan told himself that he had done his best. He knew that the Tutlocks had no interest in hosting his parents of middle class means. He felt bad and knew his parents deserved more respect than they were getting. He reasoned that it would be worse to make them travel to the Tutlock Estate only to be exposed as the small town folk that they were. They lacked the sophistication and the finances to keep up with his soon-to-be in-laws. To Ivan it was the price he had to pay to cross over those invisible boundaries. Nevertheless, he had an empty feeling. After the wedding, he vowed he would set it right.

"Make sure that you come down this weekend," Robin piped up.

The three Tutlocks dropped Ivan, Tutlock to be, at his fraternity house then and departed on the journey down Route 17, through the city and finally out on the Island to their Estate.


Ivan spent the next few days roaming around the near-empty fraternity house. He shot pool and drank beer with Jerry. He didn't call his tutor; Monday would be soon enough. He went to the bookstore to buy his textbooks for the Biology course. He hoped that the heft of the texts didn't reflect the weightiness of the course, but he was sure that they did. Then, there was the lab book that represented the part of the course that he hated the most.

On Monday morning his Biology class met for the first time. Ivan paid attention for the full hour. After class he perused the sheaf of papers given out to outline the course, the lab requirements, and the grading scheme.

He was sorry that he hadn't opted to major in history several years ago. It seemed like too much reading back then. If he had, he wouldn't be faced with this impossible-to-pass course standing between him and the Wall Street job and marriage with Robin.

He hoped that he hadn't lost the slip of paper with the tutor's name on it. He hurried back to the fraternity house to find it because he was more convinced than ever that he needed it. He did find it on his dresser and hurried to make the call.

"Hello," Answered a voice on the other end of the line...

"Hi, my name is Ivan Horton. If this is Rebecca Isaacson, then I think that you were assigned to be my bio tutor this summer."

"Yes, I've been expecting you to call. I saw you in class today. I am the Teachiing Assistant and sat in the back of the room. Meet me in the library at four, this afternoon? I'm a grad student, so I have a carrel. Ask at the desk and they'll tell you where it is. I'll meet you there."

Ivan was unused to having girls - especially Jewish grad-student tutors - tell him where and when he would meet them.

"I was thinking about tomorrow morning after class." He said.

"No, I'm not available then," Rebecca snapped.

There was a pause and Ivan heard her 'huff' before she started speaking again.

"Look" she continued, "I have a busy schedule. Besides tutoring you, I have to TA this class and a research project in the lab. On top of that, I may have a life! You're the one who needs the help and you're getting it for free. You will have to meet with me according to my schedule

"Okay! Okay!" Ivan answered. "I'll see you then."

He heard her hang up at the other end of the line.

Ivan took a large breath and let out a big sigh. He told himself that had no one to blame except him for his plight, so he would have grin and bear it.

Ivan couldn't believe how pushy 'those people' were. There had been a few Jewish players on the team. They had seemed alright, but Ivan never got to know them very well. In the fraternity setting Ivan didn't have to worry about any of that. There were Jewish fraternities and sororities, and everyone seemed happy with that

Ivan didn't know Rebecca, but he knew the type because of her name and College Town address. To him, she belonged to that other part of the student body that traveled in a different orbit tha he did...

"I can't believe Robin was jealous of her on graduation day," he chuckled.

Silly or not, Ivan was in favor of anything that could keep Robin on her toes.

"Serves her right—she owes me a good one."

He remembered the long, disappointed walk back to the fraternity in the chilly wee hours of Graduation Day morning.

He had learned long ago that a little insecurity drove girls to try harder.


Ivan shuffled through the library stacks to where the desk assistant told him Rebecca's carrel would be. He approached the tiny study room. Through the glass window on the door he saw a young woman working. From her look he knew that it ha to be Rebecca. He knocked on the door. She peered up from behind her glasses with the thick, black frames, silently motioned him in.

"Hi, I'm Ivan Horton," he said. He held out his hand to her. She took it. He was impressed by how thin and bony her hand felt.

"Rebecca Isaacson," she replied. "Have a seat."

"I'm glad that you're going to help me..." Ivan began, but she cut him off.

"Don't thank me! It's just part of a job that I have to do as a grad student," she stated. "I'm here to help you get through the course, but it's up to you to do the work. I won't do it for you,"

She went on to describe how she would review his class notes with him, and his lab reports before he submitted them.

"The better your class notes and lab reports are, the more I can help you. If you work as I tell you to, you'll pass. If you can't do that, no promises from me."

To Ivan, she sounded like his football coaches. He resented it in a way—she had no standing to behave as a football coach. He thought again and decided it might work out. After all, it was the passing grade that he was after. He accepted the arrangement.

"If you're around on Saturday, I can give you some extra help with your lab. I'll be in the lab, checking on my research," she offered.

"Thanks, anyway," Ivan said. "I'm supposed to be at my fiancée's house on Long Island this weekend."

Rebecca shook her head and pursed her lips. "You'd better have that lab done when we meet again on Monday."

Ivan gulped, thinking of the impossibility of completing the lab and pleasing Robin and her family, too.

"Where on Long Island?" Rebecca queried.

"Near Southampton. They have a big place outside of town on the shore."

Rebecca's expression darkened.

"I'm familiar with that area," she said. "Not exactly my kind of place. I'm from Huntington." as though Ivan should know the significance of it. Then she "hmmphed" and returned to her books.

Ivan figured they were finished for the day.

I'll see you after class on Monday in this carrel," she said without looking up at him as he left.


As Ivan drove past the Huntington exit on I-495 he started looking for the cutoff to Route 27. At the same time he started thinking of Rebecca and her obvious disdain for all things 'Southampton'. He had no doubt that Robin and her parents would have the same opinion of the 'Huntington' crowd.

He had heard of the civil wars between the east and west halves of Long Island. He had never bothered to understand them. To the best of his knowledge they were fought over some colonies in Westchester County. There were rumors that both sides had training camps set up in The Catskills and The Poconos.

In deference to Rebecca's admonition, he brought his Biology materials with him. It was a big house. He would find a place to study. His diligence might even convince the Tutlocks of his repentance for his earlier failure. As he pulled up in front of the mansion he saw two men standing to greet them. He recognized them both.

The first was Marsden Tutlock, Robin's father, King of the Tutlock Empire. With him was his younger brother, Benton 'Binky' Tutlock, Crown Prince and co-inheritor. Ivan parked his car and strode to where the brothers stood, ready to pay homage to them.

"Good evening, sir!" he thrust his hand to Robin's father, who took it.

"Hello, Ivan. You know my brother, Benton, of course."

"Call me 'Binky'," the brother said as he grabbed Ivan's hand from his brother. "'Uncle Binky', if you prefer, or soon to be 'uncle', I suppose." It was true; 'Binky' was the brother with the charm.

"Of course! I remember meeting you a few months ago. Nice to see you again."

Ivan couldn't bring himself to use the name 'Binky'.

"Well, Ivan," the older brother said, "we won't see much of each other this trip, I'm afraid. We're off to the City -- overseas clients, you know. We plan to stay at the club for the weekend."

"Too bad, sir. Good luck with the meeting," Ivan called after them as they piled into the limo that had arrived to collect them. As they didn't answer him, Ivan thought to himself how curious their old-time Ivy League aristocrat accents sounded. To listen to them, one would think that they had some offensive-tasting object in their mouth but were too embarrassed to spit it out. Instead they would roll it from side to side with their tongues, hoping for the object to dissolve.

Inside the limo, as it drove away, Binky turned to his brother and asked, "Where do you suppose he got a name like 'Ivan'? Sounds rather Slavic, don't you think?"

"Don't know, Benton, I've been wondering about it myself. Perhaps some inquiries are in order."


Dinner with Robin and her mother was casual. They ate a light meal. Both women confessed a need to lose a few pounds to get into their respective wedding dresses. Ivan didn't see a need for either of them to shed any weight, and told them so. It was the right thing to do. They both lapped the compliments. Robin chattered away about wedding details. Mrs. Tutlock said little.

Beryl Tutlock, Robin's mother, was a taciturn woman of forty-eight. She was a bit shorter than her daughter, but every bit as trim. Her hair and eyes were both brown, unlike Robin's. Looking at her, it was hard to tell her age. Her body appeared younger than her years, but her countenance showed more time. It wasn't that she was sagging; a few tucks could have taken care of that. Her expression showed sadness and cynicism that sometimes wears itself into the face...

After dinner and coffee, Beryl went to her room to read. She suggested that Robin and Ivan go for a swim in the pool. It was a little chilly for swimming, however, and they opted for a stroll on the grounds. They ambled along hand-in-hand. Robin kept relating wedding details, either theirs or those of her friends. When they neared the end of their perimeter walk, Ivan turned to Robin.

"I've missed you since you came back home." He leaned over and kissed her; she kissed him back.

"You're sweet, Ivan," she said. "I've missed you, too."

Ivan pressed harder.

"Is there somewhere we can go to be alone?" he asked.

"No!" she replied emphatically. "The servants are everywhere. If they saw us, they would surely tell my parents."

"Would that be so bad?" Ivan asked. "We are engaged, you know."

"That's just an argument that I don't want to have with them right now, Ivan."

"Why don't you come down the hallway to my room after everyone is asleep?"

Robin turned on her coquette voice. "Well, maybe, if I think that the coast is clear; we'll see. It might be exciting to be so naughty!"

"Try real hard," Ivan insisted. "You weren't so timid back at college."

"Oh, Ivan," she countered, "that was there and this is here."

Ivan didn't know what that last remark meant, but knew somehow, that Robin wasn't really coming to his room that night. They walked into the house, and after a few 'I love yous' and passionless kisses they parted for their separate rooms.

Ivan lay in his bed looking at the ceiling, trying to figure out if Robin might be coming or not. He had stripped his clothing off and lay naked under the sheet hoping against hope that he would see her. He was not much for sleeping. He had a lot of coffee on the long drive down, and he had much to think about. After thirty minutes the house was quiet, except for the gentle rush of the breeze blowing in through the open window.

He heard gentle padding steps in the hallway and his outlook brightened. He assumed that Robin had summoned her courage. He listened as the soft steps approached the end of the hallway on the way to his bedroom. The latch turned; the door slowly opened. The moonlit darkness silhouetted a slim female form that slid through the half opened door. He was sure that it was Robin, but she didn't look the same as usual. The silent form traced its way across the room to his bed. At last, he realized that it was Beryl, Robin's mother.

Ivan sat up with a start. "Mrs. Tutlock..." Before he could speak more Beryl placed her hand over his mouth to silence him.

"Shhh!" she whispered. "Do you think that Robin is coming to you tonight? Do you think that she has the nerve? Ivan, she has neither courage nor love. I didn't, either at her age. This wedding will never come off, or if it does it will be over in a few years. I'll leave it to you to figure that out later." She released her hand from over his mouth.

She was looking down at Ivan, who didn't know what else to do but sit motionless in his bed. His lower half was covered by the sheet, but his torso was bare. She passed her tongue over her lips, and then spoke again.

"I promised myself that if I ever had this chance, I wouldn't waste it. Marsden is in New York, in bed with 'who-knows', and Robin is sleeping. You're right here and so am I."

Ivan was as confused as any young man could be. He wondered if what was happening was what it seemed—or maybe a test set up by Robin and her mother. He had never had a woman as old as Beryl, but she looked pretty good.

"Don't worry about Robin," she said. "She will understand ... I understood when I was her age."

She took a step closer to Ivan and swept back the sheet that covered his lower half. In the half-darkness Ivan could make out a smile on her face as she looked at him. Beryl threw off her robe. She wore a full-length negligee that cradled her breasts and hugged her slender form. Ivan couldn't make out the color. He had little time to sort out the details as Beryl wasted no time in lifting the nightgown over her head and hanging it on the bedpost. The next second she was on the bed alongside him.

She pushed Ivan's chest until he was flat on his back again. Her hands coursed over his toned, buff torso making no pretext of gentleness. They traveled down, feeling the muscles in his thighs and flanks.

"I've been wanting this for so long," she said in a hoarse whisper, as if she needed to explain to Ivan, or to herself. "Robin just doesn't know..."

"What doesn't Robin know," Ivan thought to himself, but Beryl gave him little opportunity to ponder the answer.

"You're going to ride me and pound my bones," she hissed at him. "Work me over! I'll take you to places where you've never been. You'll think that Robin is a nun!"

She climbed on top of Ivan, straddling him, and her mouth devoured his. At first he thought to stop her out of loyalty to his betrothed, but the past week of celibacy and then Robin's refusal earlier that night made such an act of virtue too difficult. He threw his arms around Beryl as she thrust her tongue into his mouth. Her silky skin slid over his muscular frame.

Ivan responded by reaching his hands down to test the firmness of her flanks. He was pleased and that surprised him. Her body rivaled Robin's, perhaps surpassing it in some ways. The older woman seemed more adept at using it.

Ivan's hard penis press against Beryl's belly, seeming to inflame her. She rose up from their embrace to her knees, straddling him The raging woman grabbed the headboard and placed her dripping sex over Ivan's face and lowered her full weight on him.

Ivan thrust his tongue into her vagina, then all around her vulva, searching for her pleasure. He found the swollen bulb, licked around it and sucked it between his lips. Beryl spun out of control. She rose up and down, harder each time. Ivan was able to suck in some air on her upstroke.

Beryl released her hold on the headboard, extending her arms over head. She bounced up and down on his face, arms flailing, like a rodeo rider on a Brahma bull. Soon after that, her orgasm started. Ivan was barely able to hear her with Beryl's thighs covering his ears. She exhaled three visceral sounds a few seconds apart. After the third, she collapsed her hands back down to the headboard, her body slouched over. As she rested atop Ivan she secreted a salty and bitter fluid that flowed over Ivan's face. He wondered when he would be allowed some air. As he was about to lift her off of him she rose up and resumed her former place lying on top. She started licking her emitted fluid from his face.

Between passes with her tongue she spoke to him in a whisper, "Don't go to sleep—we're not done by a long shot!"

Ivan didn't feel very sleepy at that moment.

She rappelled her way down his muscular frame, rubbing her breasts roughly on him as she did so. When she had traveled halfway Beryl swallowed Ivan's full length all at once. It was one those 'favors' that Robin had promised to save for the honeymoon. Her head bobbed up and down, her cheeks drawn in against her cheekbones as she created a vacuum and scraped her tongue along the underside of his glans. Ivan thrust his pelvis up to push the sensitive nerves of his crown closer to the surface. He sought his ejaculation and the first drops of clear fluid seeped out of him. She released him and rose up on all fours and savored the taste of it, letting the pearl drops roll to all regions of her tongue. Ivan thought that she would resume her fellatio, but she did not. She had what she wanted. She moved forward to mount him.

Beryl impaled herself on Ivan's rigid erection. Without waiting she began moving up and down on him. As she would reach the zenith of her movement she arched her back into a concave arc that exposed her labia more. As she started on her outward path she rubbed her vulva against Ivan's pubic bone and nest of pubic hair, roughly scraping her pulsing womanhood.

It all served to reset the onrush of orgasm. Beryl tightened her vagina around him and she wedged her own thighs inside Ivan's and started humping with short, quick strokes. Ivan tired of the passive role. He wrapped his powerful legs around hers and captured her buttocks with his oversized hands. She was imprisoned in his muscular grip. He gripped her tight with his legs. As he pulled himself deeper into her, he thrust up as hard as he could.

Beryl's face took on an enraptured look and her breath shortened, signaling that her orgasm was rushing closer. As he continued pumping into her, her mouth gaped as if to scream, but there was no sound.

All at once, even as it appeared the climax was near, Ivan lifted her with his powerful arms. Before she could fathom the switch, she was on her back, legs splayed. Ivan rammed himself into her drenched canal. The crown of his penis bumped the back of her vessel. He thrust once, twice, three times. She pulled Ivan's chest down to her face to cover her shrieks of ecstasy. Ivan thrust again and poured his semen into her, leaving himself in there until all of his fluid drained. Then, he dismounted and lay alongside her.

They lay together for several minutes without speaking. Beryl lifted herself out of the bed, picked up her discarded negligee and put on her robe.

"Thank you, Ivan. You'll make a fine son-in-law," she said, and then slipped out of his room in silence.

As he watched her depart Ivan hoped that Robin would have one of those mother-daughter chats before the wedding.


Ivan was late for breakfast the next morning. The two women sat together at the veranda table nibbling at their breakfasts...

Robin broke the ice. "Sleep well, Mother?"

"Thank you for asking, dear. Yes, after some tossing and turning."

"Oh, really," Robin answered. "What was it that made you so restless?"

"It was Ivan, dear," her mother said. "I was thinking that it will be so soon that he will be one of our family. I was wondering how I could get to know him better."

"When it comes to Ivan, Mother, please keep in mind who owns him and who loans him," Robin said.

"I shall, dear, I shall," her mother assured her.

"Make sure of it." Robin's tone was cold.

"Those are strong words from one so young to someone so much more experienced, Robin," her mother countered.

"He's mine!" the young girl snarled.

"Of course, dear," the mother soothed. "But let's not fight over Ivan. Let's all be happy."

The two fell silent with secret, knowing looks at each other as Ivan appeared on the veranda to join them.


Ivan spent the morning preparing his Biology lab report. The work served a number of good purposes. It got him out of the way of Robin and her prattling on about wedding plans. It also kept him away from Beryl, where a detected glance between them might betray their meeting of the prior night. Last, but not least,, he made sure to avoid the wrath of his tutor, Rebecca, for not having done his assignment. And—oh, yes—by the way, the report was due on Tuesday.

At noon there was lunch and at one thirty everyone changed for the pool party. It was a 'let's meet Ivan' party for Beryl's side of the family and Robin's high school friends. Marsden and Binky were still in Manhattan with clients.

It was an uneventful party at the start. There was a lot of handshaking and small talk. Ivan was quizzed on his bona-fides as a future provider and everyone gushed over his athletic fame. Robin's friends huddled in groups and tittered over her fiancé's football physique as he sat in his gym shorts and tee-shirt having a beer with Robin's male cousins.

Robin wore a flowered bikini that let everyone know what Ivan was getting ready to take charge of after the wedding. She wore platform sandals that rose her height above the other women and caused her posture to shift so that the supple muscles from her 'glutes' to the bottom of her calves were flexed and displayed at their best. Robin and Ivan posed for some photos. Their perfect bodies complimented one another. The hired photographer was overheard saying that he thought that they appeared like two thoroughbred horses selected for breeding.

After the formal photo session the group of younger men started passing a football while the photographer roamed the grounds for candid shots of the party. As the cameraman approached the young men, Robin called Ivan over to her. She ran from the pool area to the lawn where the young men were and sidled up close to Ivan

"Ivan, why don't you take off your shirt for the pictures?" she coaxed under her breath.

Ivan returned a confused look to her.

"Your shirt, Ivan, take it off," she repeated

"Oh, c'mon, Robin, I don't want to show off like that."

"Ivan," she repeated in an angry hush through bared teeth, "Take ... off ... your ... shirt ... for ... the ... pictures."

Ivan thought an ugly scene between the two lovebirds would lack what the Tutlocks would have wanted, so he complied. As the camera snapped away he glanced about at the women ogling him and the men eying him with contempt. He realized at that moment that his value to Robin was measured by the pound. He was ashamed that he had allowed himself to be humiliated.

The party broke up soon thereafter. Ivan approached Robin, ready to be soothed.

"How about tonight?" he asked.

"No!" she answered. "I have a headache. I think that my period is starting."

Ivan shuffled off and drew another beer from the refrigerator near the poolhouse. He sat alone for a long time thinking and drinking. That night Beryl visited him again in his room. As their mouths locked, Ivan tasted like beer and Beryl like gin and tonic. Their intercourse lacked the excitement of the prior night's clandestine newness, but it was good. Afterward, Ivan wondered if Robin's skills would ever match her mother's.


That night, in their Manhattan club, Marsden and Binky sat sipping Courvoisier as Ivan and Beryl engaged in forbidden sex.

"Marsden," Binky said, "While you were with the clients today I was able to make some inquiries regarding young Ivan. I have something to tell you, I'm afraid."

Marsden's leaned closer to his younger brother.

"I ran down the 'Horton lineage' from that Batavia place that Ivan hails from," Binky continued. "It would appear that 'Horton' is really 'Horvath'. His grandfather changed it when he got off the boat."

"I was afraid of something like this," Marsden replied. "You don' t suppose he's a j..."

"No, not that," his brother cut him off. "It's Russian by way of Hungary. It's all I could do to get this much in a Saturday afternoon's time."

"You did fine, Benton," the elder Tutlock assured. "What are we to do?"

"That will be up to you, Marsden. I'm sure that you'll do what's best—for everyone. The family's interest, of course ... well, for everyone"

"Not a word about this until the right moment, Benton."

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Romantic / Slow / School /