Diary of a Loose Girl
Chapter 13: The Professor, or Bumps in the Night

Copyright© 2015 by Chase Shivers

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 13: The Professor, or Bumps in the Night - Diary of a Loose Girl follows a woman named Carrie. From her earliest sexual experiences through her adult life, her first time, her kinks, the men and women she fucked and loved, she recorded it all in her Diary. Follow Carrie's retelling of those personal notes as she details what she tried and liked, what she tried and hated, the people she loved and lost, and what turns her on beyond imagination. Note - This story is open-ended with 28 chapters so far.

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Mult   Consensual   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   School   Tear Jerker   Interracial   Black Male   White Male   White Female   Oriental Female   Anal Sex   Cream Pie   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Safe Sex   Sex Toys   Teacher/Student  

Chapter Cast:

Carrie Minberg, Female, 19
- Narrator, freshman at Bitterwood
- Beige, freckled skin, 5'6, 145lbs, curly back-length dark-red or blue hair
Elise, Female, 19
- Freshman at Bitterwood, Norwegian
- Pale golden skin, 5'10, 155lbs, shoulder-length light blonde hair
Jonn, Male, early 60s
- Professor at Bitterwood, Dutch
- Pale beige skin, 5'6, 175lbs, long white hair in a ponytail, white beard


Ulv and I did have sex a few more times over that first year, and he did get better, I came with him most of the time. I never again shared the twins, though Colt and I had a couple of intense quickies that I enjoyed. Toward the end of the first semester, I reflected on a few things before I flew home for holiday break.

Ulv, Jamal, Kent, and Colt had shared my body, and Elise had come to know it quite well. I'd sucked Lovaldo's cock, just a few seconds of the brown-skinned Brazilian in my mouth on a dare, and I did the same with Qumani's pussy, the short, sweet Kenyan girl with long, braided hair giggling the whole time. But those were just simple play and I didn't really consider them sexual partners.

I started counting those people I did. The first I'd really thought to do so in my life. Twelve. I'd had sex of some sort with twelve people, three girls, nine boys. It was a longer list than I thought it would be, it was easy to let old passions, fading intensity, drift away and remember just the recent lovers. But I counted twelve. That was the first time I really started to consider the term 'Loose Girl, ' and whether it applied to me.

It still held all the same old hurts, but they were just that, old. I felt less anxiety with time over the memories of bulling, slut-shaming, the name-calling. At Natural Law, and then Bitterwood, the attitudes toward sex had changed me, let me feel less guilt over enjoying it, wanting it. The old doubts were replaced by sensual assurances that sex was something worth being good at, something valuable.

I always used protection. Always. I was on birth control, but I knew the risk. Most of my classmates did, too, from what I heard, but there were always rumors that one of us was pregnant, or had missed a period or a pill, and an ill-timed ejaculation had sent someone seeking a test of one sort or another.

But no one got pregnant, that I knew of. It was only when the bumps appeared around one of my labia that I knew the condoms hadn't stopped me from catching something.

The tests were a bit inconclusive, but the doctor was pretty sure I had genital herpes. The incurable burden that millions of people shared, and hid.

I was so heartbroken when I heard. There was no way to treat it, nothing I could do at all. I didn't want to tell anyone, and for several weeks in November and December, I didn't have sex with anyone. Elise had several times tried to fuck me, but I made excuses. I didn't exactly lie when I said I wasn't feeling like it, but I didn't tell her the truth, at first.

I found as much information about it as I could. I wanted to know everything, wanted to find the silver bullet that would solve my condition. I found nothing, but I did find out how common and relatively benign it was. Genital herpes is, for most people, just an annoying rash, one which came on strong in the beginning and generally faded off to infrequent or no outbreaks. Many people who carry it had no symptoms, no reason to think they were infected.

I told no one and quieted my urges by masturbating frequently. The first outbreak was mild, the second was worse. I was sore for several days, and I had my first depressive moments during that stretch.

My free sex life was over. Forever. There was no going back. I couldn't fuck anyone without exposing them, and it crushed me just as my sexual life was becoming very exciting.

A week before leaving for the States, Elise sat quietly next to me on the bed. I'd again rejected her advances, and she looked at me with a disappointed look on her face. "Carrie ... are you over me?"

"What? No! No, I'm very much in to you..."

"Then why have you stopped putting out." It was said half-jokingly, but the question was sincere.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Please. Carrie, if it's me, something I've done, just tell me. I love you and all, but something isn't right between us lately, and I'm hurting, I need to know why."

I bit my lip, and got it over with. "I-I have herpes."

She leaned back and almost grinned before catching herself. "That's why you won't let me touch you? Herpes? Jeez, Carrie, if that's the worst thing you ever have between you're legs, you're gonna have a breezy ride through life."

"What?"

"Come on, lots of people have it. In Norway it's no big deal, at least where I'm from. It doesn't spread nearly as easily as people think, and if you have sex enough, you get it exposed to it all the time. Who'd you get it from? Me? Don't think I have it..."

She looked a bit uncertain a moment. I replied, "I dunno ... you're the first person I've told, I've known for a few weeks. Could have been Jamal ... Ulv ... the Twins ... you I guess ... Don't think it's very easy for women to spread it to each other. One of them, then. Dunno who."

"Probably should tell them so they can get checked out." She breathed in and exhaled, smiled, said, "Ok, so that's your big deal. I get it. Now get over it. Having an outbreak today?"

I shook my head.

"Then I'm eating your pussy."

With that, Elise pushed me back and gave me two quick gushing orgasms that soaked her face and left me panting, wanting more. She fingered me, moved her crotch over my face, and we licked each other for an hour. I lost count of the orgasms, it just felt so good to be with her again, to have someone to share my body with and experience intimacy again.

I told the boys each individually. Ulv was a bit frightened, but the others handled it smoothly. All three claimed they were not infected, but they all planned to get checked out. I found out after the break that each claimed to have tested clean. I knew enough to know mistakes could be made, but I was left without anyone close by to identify as the one who spread the virus to me. In some small way, small but signficant, that made dealing with it hard.

The last day before my flight I sat in on a late night storytelling session put on by one of the senior lecturers. Jonn was older than most of them, probably early 60s. He wore his white hair pulled into a ponytail, his white, scraggly beard a couple of inches long. He looked a bit like Mark Twain, I suppose, though not nearly as much hair on his head.

Jonn was from the Netherlands and lived near the campus. He lectured on ancient and medieval histories, taught us about literature of the Victorian era, and had a passion for surfing, so he'd told us our first day in his class.

All the professors went by first names instead of formal titles like 'Professor Magisun' as I'd have called Jonn any other place. It made the time spent in their classes and lectures feel more personal and did a lot to make the environment a positive, close-knit one.

There weren't any specific rules about sexual relationships with professors. I know. I read all the rulebooks and guidebooks and codes of conducts I'd been given. Nothing said a student couldn't enjoy sex with a teacher, but it really wasn't done, either. Not that I saw, not that I heard from others. Sure, there was always talk about someone being cute or 'fuckworthy, ' but that was all, I'm fairly certain.

I began to reconsider the term 'Loose Girl' that week, as I said, and I found the definition had changed under me. I liked what it conveyed, even if I didn't like the memories still attached to it. In my head, it didn't mean 'slut', 'whore', or any of the other insults I'd heard sent my way.

I took it to mean 'open, willing, capable of accepting intimacy with many others'. It would be some years yet before I was ready to use that term, but the roots of that acceptance came from those days.

And by 'open, willing, capable of accepting intimacy with many others, ' I began to see that as more than just my classmates. Thoughts of Henri came back to me then, most of the pain shrouded in the way I'd begun to build up the fantasy of fucking Jonn, remembered how much I'd enjoyed Henri, that he was a teacher, older in some ways, powerful.

The difference in age with Henri was significant for someone who's only fifteen. At nineteen, I still felt like anyone over 25 was not terribly interesting. Until Jonn, and I'm still not sure why him.

Jonn wasn't the most attractive professor, and as one of the oldest, he had lines and scars and a thousand other marks on his skin that showed through, showed his time on Earth was far beyond my own.

But he was intelligent, very smart, very fast with a joke or a well-source fact. I found that very attractive, to see his mind work, to watch him smile when someone got what he was explaining. I now know the term is 'sapiosexual, ' attraction to intelligence, but then, he just drew me in, and by the last night of my stay that first semester, I'd already spent several nights with a couple of others at storytelling or book discussions with him.

 
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