Chapter 1: The Professor

Owen Wallenberg, Professor in the School of History at Nichols College, looked out the window of his office onto the campus as he pondered his marriage.

Twelve years, ever since grad school, different majors, but similar interests academically and otherwise. The sex was good, if not great, so Tabby and I convinced us we were in love and got married. We’re both fond of each other, and life would be very different without her, but I don’t think either of us feels the intense love some couples do; but then how many marriages last ten years these days? And we do have that one thing in common that in all probability serves to keep us together---ménage a trois.

Owen paused and reached for the decanter on his desk that held the 18 year-old Scotch and poured two fingers into his Waterford crystal glass.

“Mmmm,” he sighed after taking a healthy sip. “But why does she carry on with them?” It’s as if she falls in and out of love with them, casting them aside after tiring of them. What does that say about our relationship? Certainly I’m not her anchor ... am I?

Perhaps I am in some way. I earn more than she, and the house ... bought with my parents’ inheritance. So there’s that; and the fact that I willing share the women with her. I suppose there are men who would divorce or murder their wives if they brought someone else to their bed.

He let his mind wander back to the first time they had shared a woman in their bed. That would have been Laura, a junior history major. He recalled that he had brought the lovely Laura to their bed.

Had seven years passed already? Laura had been excellent student, as proven by the two works on FDR that she’d published with excellent results since then and good-looking to boot.

It was the hottest July on record for southern Florida, and that Saturday he’d invited several students to enjoy the cool waters of the pool at his home. Four of them accepted and Laura was the only female among them. Tabby was off to upstate New York, near Syracuse, to visit her older sister who was undergoing treatments for breast cancer.

Owen watched at first as the three young men splashed and cavorted with twenty-year-old Laura who wore a conservative bathing suit, but after bringing out a round of alcoholic beverages he joined them, cannon-balling into the pool to the delight of all.

Eventually it was just him and Laura in the pool. The others were sitting in the shade enjoying their drinks. Her breasts were that wonderful size that fills a shirt, or your hands or mouth, perfectly. The areolas were round, about the size of a quarter, with succulent little nipples standing proudly on them, hardened by the cool water. She moved closer to him as the others became engrossed in a joke about Mickey and Minnie Mouse arguing: ‘For the tenth time, Minnie, I did not say you’re crazy. I said you’re fucking Goofy!’

As the three men chortled over the joke, Laura moved even closer. “Where are we going, Owen?”

He laughed and said, “Down the garden path I suppose.”

And then he kissed her lightly.

Her voice was husky, when after a quick glance at the guys went back to their drinks, she whispered,”Um, what did you have in mind?”

“Take another step closer,” he said.

She did, and that put her pelvis against his.

“Does that answer your question?”

“Mmmm, I guess it does,” she replied pressing herself against his crotch.

On the pool patio, one of the young men was telling another old joke.

‘You hear the one about what women of different nationalities say right after having fucked their guys?”

“No!”

“Tell us!”

“The German girl says, ‘Gut now let’s have somesing to eat!’

“The French girl says, ‘You weel improve wiz practice.’

“The American girl says, ‘Now you must think I’m awful.’

“But the English girl says, ‘There dear, is that better?’”

The two listeners roared with laughter, one adding, “I like that attitude!”

While they laughed, Laure gave Owen’s penis several strokes and squeezes leaving him with a roaring erection. He remained in the pool when she left, climbing out and walking over to join the guys with the water still dripping to the stamped concrete from her crotch, leaving him with the impression that she was pissing as she approached them.

They’d all left about an hour later, having brought their own cars to Owen’s. He was only slightly surprised when Laura returned without any verbal pretext some twenty minutes later.

“I hope you didn’t masturbate while I was gone,” she’d said as she shed her clothing in the kitchen. Laura wasn’t the first student who’d come onto him, or that he’d gone after either. Still he had to give her the standard warning he used with everyone who came to his bed, “This could be bad for both of us if the School finds out.”

“I know,” she said, “I went halfway home ... and when David made his turn off Roosevelt onto 5^th, I kept going another five blocks before turning around. I know this is dangerous. That’s part of what will make it so good,” she said, as she pulled her shirt over her head. “I want to have some fun with you, Professor.”

He peeled off his shirt to keep up with her. Laura turned her back to him. ‘Help me with this clasp, will you?”

He undid the clasp and she let the bra’s straps slip from each shoulder before turning to face him. “Aren’t they nice?”

Just then the rain started pouring and a clap of thunder shook the house.

“They’re lovely, Laura. May I?”

“Of course, Professor, of course.”

His voice was muffled as it came from between her generous globes: “Call me Owen, Please.”

“Ohhh, I like that ... yes that too ... Ohhhh, Owen!’

He spent several pleasant minutes kissing, sucking nipping and even biting her breasts. Laura loved every second of it, and when he stopped and took a step back, she quickly shed her skirt and shoes revealing her entire body to him.

“Lemmie see it!” she barked, with a wanton timbre in her vocal chords and dropped to her knees as he frantically pulled his shaft out of his boxers.

Owen had never cheated on Tabby before, but on this warm Floridian evening he was unable to quell his lust, moreover, Laura already had his penis in hand and after a close examination, she exclaimed, “Not cut ... never had one of those before”; put him into her mouth.

The first gentle stroke of Laura’s tongue across the tip of his knob made Owen forget any reservations he might have had.

“This can’t happen if anyone’s going to find out,” he hissed.

“Ah won ‘ell,” she said with his member lodged in her mouth. Then her tongue went into high gear and she started bobbing her head up and down, taking his penis quite deep before pulling back till he nearly popped out.

Suddenly Laura lifted her head and said, “Owen, “Will you cum in my mouth?”

She didn’t wait for an answer and increased her suction while pumping his penis with her right hand. Owen began thrusting his hips, fucking her face with an urgency that surprised him. He belatedly realized that for some time now he had been lethargic in comparison to the humping he was currently involved in.

Had Tabby noticed? Not being a total fool, Owen realized almost immediately that she must have, but why hadn’t they discussed it?

“Cum for me, baby!” Laura croaked, stroking him frantically as she put him back on her tongue.

Had we discussed it?

Was his last rational thought before grunting loudly as the searing fluid pulsed through his shaft and ecstasy overwhelmed him as he exploded into her mouth.

She opened wide to show him.

He set his second line of cum right into her face, splattering just above her left eye and most of her forehead.

The third line of ejaculate found its way onto her open mouthed tongue and the last spurt caromed off her neck and trickled down to the cleavage of her breasts.

To his amazement and delight, Laura made a show of swallowing, almost choking on the volume of it. When he sat down on the floor next to her she stuck her tongue out to show him his seed was gone. Then she leaned forward, and used his penis to scoop up the residual semen from her face and breasts and licked it off his cock as if it were ice cream.

“Professor, just how good are you at eating pussy?” she inquired after sucking the last morsel of semen from her finger.

“Let’s find a more comfortable place to do just that,” he said, and they moved to a leather couch.

When she was positioned above his face, Owen spread her lips with his thumbs and licked her from her asshole to her clit and back again. She squirmed and moaned above him, grinding her sex on his mouth.

He was well versed in the cunnilingual arts having eaten his first woman in the backseat of his father’s Ford during junior year of high school. The young ladies compliments and word of ‘mouth’ led to a succession of backseat adventures while most of his male classmates went without sex until late in senior year, or beyond.