She sat on the rug in front of the fire, and nodded a path for me across from her. Now it was my turn to stare. . . the fire highlighted her features. She was flipping through my paper. . . she looked at me and said that Dr. Psyc would surely love this for he was a student of Kohlberg's Stages of Development. Mumbling something about him not progressing past the second stage she drank her coco and broke a cookie in half, offering me the other half. On equal footing---half cookie each and a cup, we began to chat. Beethoven was a common bond, and we discovered that we had been at the same concert 3 times recently. I was relating my feelings about the intensity of the fourth movement of Beethoven's Ninth. How the orchestra faded behind the brilliance of the chorus. .
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. how I felt my very being become one with the music. . . A singular tear. A simple request. Insert the cassette, please. I need to hear it again now. While my back was to her she had moved to "my" side of the rug. . . and as I bent over to pick up my cup of coco, she again reached for my hand and led me to a position next to her. We sat, our thighs touching lightly while the room filled with the sounds of George Szell's orchestra, Robert Shaw's chorus, and Beethoven's last symphony's final movement. And as we listened, in barely a motion, she slid out of her jeans. Her left hand moved her lace panties to the side and her fingers delved into her wetness.
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She masturbated with almost perfect emotion, to the sound of the music. I was looking at her, into her. A stunned freshman. Her moans invited me to move closer and my legs enveloped her from behind. She leaned against me, my face resting on her shoulder. and my lips gently tasting her neck. She came with a shudder, many moans, and the most beautiful smile. As the music ended, Mrs. Dr. Psyc turned to me and said, my name is Cari. . . TWOCari proved to be quite the tease, and a teacher that would befit a Mrs. Dr. Psyc.
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I had never seen a woman masturbate before, and never seen a woman have a shuttering orgasm. She asked me what I thought about what she had just done. I said that I was not sure what it was she did do. . . at that she swung her sexy legs around and spread her wet pussy lips and showed me her erect clit. As she touched it her voice became soft and she shuttered again and her breath became more labored. I reached out to touch her and she took my fingers and placed them on her protrusion, and instructed me to spell the alphabet on it with my middle finger. Somewhere around the letter L, Cari squirted a clear liquid all over my arm, while she screamed and exploded in tears. She grabbed my hand and quickly sucked my wet fingers into her mouth, sucking and licking with animalistic tenderness. Then she fell into my arms, pulled me down, and swallowed my red-hot hard wet throbbing cock. I could not hold back after all of the visual stimulation and touching. . . I let loose of a load of cum that Cari later said she could not taste because it went right down her throat.
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She licked my balls and my inner thighs clean, and placed her head on my chest. We were both too spent to speak for a while. Then, she got up and left the room, returning with my dry clothes. Cari asked me to put them on, which I reluctantly did. But Cari had something to say, and I listened while dressing. She said that if I wanted to fuck her, I would have to learn how to make love to a woman and how to fuck a woman from her. She asked me how many women I had been with, and I said 3--all once. Cari said that she would not be a sperm catcher like the others, that she would either be my teacher or nothing. I would have to follow her instructions or pay penalties. And I was not allowed to talk with anyone about what we were doing. I was also required to tell her, in detail, about every other sexual encounter that I had so she could critique my activities. I considered this all a deal I couldn't refuse. She walked me to the door, and before I left she kissed me. . .
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telling me that she would call me to set up our next session. I left the house, the door closed behind me, and before leaving the porch I took a look inside from a living room window. There was Cari, kneeling over a dildo, and trusting herself down, grinding against its base, and pinching and rolling her hard nipples. After a few minutes she came and collapsed onto the floor. Back into the rainy night I went. . . my cock was throbbing and wet. . . I raced back to my dorm room and masturbated to the thoughts of Cari and the sounds of Iron Butterfly. THREEPsyc was one of five Into courses including American Government, Geology, Geography and Economics. As the years have gone by, I can remember much of what I learned in each course, but I remember nothing about the classes themselves, and little about the professors. Except for Intro Psyc and Dr. Psyc.
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Two days after meeting Cari, I walked into class and sat in the front row, right in front of the man whose wife had sucked me off, masturbated in front of me, kissed me, and made it clear that we would soon be fucking. I recall that after the second or third post-blow job class, I stopped trying to look for signs that Dr. Psyc might know what was happening or about to happen. All seemed normal, and I got a high B on the first exam. Making eye contact with Dr. Psyc became a non-issue, and I even participated in a couple of his more in depth discussions on human behavior. One of these discussions delved into questions of the differences between sexual deviation and acceptable sexual behavior. I recall looking around the room and seeing some of my fellow students squirming in their seats. . . I had a raging erection. The first time Cari contacted me was by phone one evening within a week of our initial encounter. She told me not to talk, just listen. And listen I did, to Cari, the cock tease, masturbating with her whirling vibrator, moaning, panting, and ultimately cumming with a scream. I listened to all of this with my roommate's girlfriend (who I would eventually fuck on Thanksgiving morning) sitting in a chair, about 5 feet from where I stood, unable to speak, with a tent in my jeans, and heart beating harder and harder.
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The last thing I heard Cari say on that call was "Shit, he's back. Call you at 7:30 tomorrow morning. I want to see you soon. " That night I fell asleep after masturbating while looking at my poster of Farah Fawcett Majors. She was in a swimsuit, and it was a huge turn on to think about moving the elastic aside and sliding into her wetness--fucking her while kissing her hard on the mouth. I came hard, but remember falling asleep still erect, thinking about Cari. The next thing I knew, it was 7:30 and the phone was ringing. FOURAnswering the telephone in my slumber, I heard the unmistakable order on the other end. . . Cari telling me to meet her in the periodical stacks at the University Library in a couple of hours. I either awakened with an erection or her voice immediately had that effect on me because it was raging when I hung up and contemplated what the day might be like. I vividly recall turning on my side, closing my eyes, and masturbating--cumming within about a minute--with my mind on fucking Cari for the first time. Heading for the shower, I thought about what I might be getting involved in. The benefits of sex far outweighed the potential consequences.
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If Dr. Psyc ever found out he would have a hard time justifying failing me as long as I did well on the exams. My concerns were more curiosities than anything else. Who else was Cari fucking? Were there other students that she was "using"? While thinking about being just one rather than the only, something happened for the first time. . . I recall getting hard again with the thought of someone else fucking the same pussy I was. This fantasy has stayed with me since. Out of the shower, into my clothes, out the door into a brisk, gray, cold fall day. The walk to the library was invigorating, and as I thought about the rewards meeting Cari offered, the walk became a run. I caught up with Cari going up the elevator. She was wearing a long black raincoat with a leather collar. We got to the 7th floor and I followed her down an aisle. At the very end she turned around and our bodies embraced. She let the coat open, and underneath I saw that she was wearing a very very short black skirt, and a tight red sweater.
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No bra, no panties. Cari took me by my hand and leaned against a wall at the end of the aisle, and placed one heel on the wall, bending her left leg while she spread them apart. I was rubbing her pussy with my left hand while we roughly kissed. She broke the kiss and asked me to show her how I eat pussy. On my knees, under her skirt, my face was immediately covered with Cari's sweet juices. I went right for her engorged clit, sucking it roughly into my mouth. She began to fuck my face which was a totally new experience for me. With my face "in" her pussy, Cari folded her leg that was against the wall over the back of my head, and she began to hump her pussy on my face, head, tongue.
. . when she came I could feel her clit fill and spill in my mouth. So, I thought, this is what multiple orgasms are like. . . no way could I count how many times she came, because there were no breaks between one orgasm and the next.
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I could also feel my cock pressing against the denim of my jeans. I needed to fuck her so badly, so hard, with no trepidation whatsoever. And as Cari came down from where ever it is she "went" while cumming all over my face and head, we heard someone talking a couple of aisles away. I would learn that Cari was never flustered by the presence of others. She merely closed her coat, took my hand and a stack of New Republics, and headed for a nearby table. She handed me all the magazines but one, reached into her purse and pulled out a cock shaped vibrator. Cari later told me that my eyes grew to twice their size as she pulled her shirt up, slid the vibrator into her sopping pussy, and began reading her magazine as the vibrator whirled away while buried deeply inside where I wanted to be. FIVESitting at the table in the library, I could faintly hear the whirling of Cari's vibrator but could vividly smell her pussy's wetness. She sat there, eyes focused on my face, and pressed her knees against my legs as she came over and over again. My cock was soaking too and was straining for release and relief. I was arching my back and pressing my cock against the bottom ridge of the table, and I can still recall cumming in a heavy thick stream, draining my balls into and through my underwear, ending in a round wet spot on my jeans. After a while we both slumped in our chairs, physically exhausted. . . but we both had a need to touch each other--to fall into each others arms.
Cari produced a key from her pocket for a room at the campus guest house. She asked me to meet her there later that afternoon. Before departing we went back into the stacks and I finger fucked her to another orgasm and licked my fingers, holding her scent with me for the remainder of the day. I arrived at our room first. Cari followed a few minutes later and when I answered the door she was wearing the sweetest smile. . . and carrying a picnic basket. I had turned the radio on and soft jazz was playing. She slipped out of her coat, the same one from that morning. This time, Cari was wearing what made her most comfortable and how I remember her. . . jeans and an over large white shirt. She slipped out of her jeans, and looked so cute in the long shirt and white socks.
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Later I realized that she was also wearing satin black panties. Our first kiss that evening was the kind that was mutual--we both reached for it at the same time. We fell onto the bed, and kissed for more than an hour before beginning groping, rubbing and more. I was wearing boxer shorts, and Cari used her mouth to "blow" me through them. The heat on my balls and cock were incredible, and I recall my cock crowning through the fly and her mouth meeting its head and letting it grow into her mouth on its own before she closed her incredible lips around it. She cupped my balls while riding my cock with her mouth. While doing this, Cari maintained one hand between her own legs, and then she humped my leg and came all over it. . . . and then she said it. . . "I'm going to fuck you now" and before I knew it she impaled herself on my cock. She rode me, sitting straight up, eyes open, looking down at me.
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She said "This isn't a lesson. I need this. Please fuck me. " With that I sat up, pushed her backwards, and slammed my red throbbing cock into the wettest pussy I had, to that point, ever encountered. Cari wrapped her legs around my waist, meeting every thrust down with an upward thrust of her own. Our mouths locked and tongues entwined. It quickly became "our way" to kiss for hours before and especially during sex. . . it is still "my way". . . . That first time, Cari finally rolled out from under me and again mounted my cock. .
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. this was raw fucking--she moaned, cumming over and over again--and my lover shot me over the top with those moans as I came while she was grinding her pussy against my hard cock. And as great as that first time with Cari was, it was a small sexual romp compared to what was to come. . . SIXIt came to be that Saturdays were the day that Cari could get away, as Dr. Psyc was teaching 2 classes at a college 40 miles away. The classes cut across late morning and early afternoon, were over 2 hours each, and because of road conditions, the drive was at least an hour each way. . . you get the idea. Most often I would begin my morning at a corner coffee shop, positioning myself with a view of the street so I could see Dr. Psych drive by. I then knew the coast was clear. .
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. There were times that he would drop Cari at the coffee shop and we would sit and chat or go for walks on campus before going to her house, my dorm room or in later years to my apartment, or to other places that will be described in later chapters. That first winter was a rough one. . . lots of snow storms. The first storm hit in mid-November, on a Saturday. Cari and I were zipped inside a double sleeping bag in front of her fireplace and she was instructing me on ways to pleasure her nipples. The telephone rang--I kept doing what I was doing while she answered it. . . It was Dr. Psyc--SNOWED IN 40 MILES AWAY AND SPENDING THE NIGHT AT A FRAT HOUSE!That was to be the first time that Cari and I spent the night together and she said "Let's celebrate. Fuck me. " By then I knew what that meant.
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Though a great sexual experimenter and teacher, Cari loved for me to grab her roughly, push her down, and fuck her. It was one of those out of character things--a quickie--whispering forbidden terms in her ear like "cunt" and "slut," that brought her off in no time. To bring our relationship back to character, after fucking we would rest in each other's arms, ending in loving, mutual, oral sex. Keeping in the sleeping bag theme, we roasted hotdogs in the fireplace and drank hot chocolate that was heated on the hearth. After dinner we snuggled and had more oral sex in the sleeping bag, and then Cari said "Let's go sledding. " She was dressed and ready to go in no time. I was looking out the window, unable to see the street. I couldn't imagine why we were leaving this nice setting, as Cari began to extinguish the fire. . . Out into the blowing snow with my lover, we walked toward campus, up a hill, and through the Student Center's cafeteria where Cari liberated two serving trays that routinely substituted for sleds. The front door of the Center led us to the top of a hill that was already packed down by people who had sledded earlier. We raced each other on our "sleds" and then by running back up the hill. One time, on the way down, Cari crashed into me about half way down, tackled me, and we went tumbling down the hill, rolling around at the bottom, until we were behind some trees.
Laying like snow angels next to each other, we rolled toward each other and in no time, Cari had a fluffy gloved hand inside my pants and was masturbating me while we kissed deeply.
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Before Cari my inhibitions would not let me cum in this manner. . . Cari was working to take away all of my inhibitions, and in this case was very successful. When I came, she slowly removed her gloved hand and licked the palm as if it were a prize. Back at the top of the hill other sledders were joining us and we wanted to slide a few more times. But, now we were using one sled as Cari sat in front of me, tangled up in my arms and legs. As we rocked the tray to get it going, I began to massage her nipples through layer of clothing. After two trips down the hill in this manner, Cari said to me "You've made my cum soak through my jeans. I have a special place on campus. Let's go there. "SEVENThe snow had become blinding, what we call in the Midwest "white out conditions". Cari and I walked on, pressing the sides of our bodies against each other as she led the way. I had no idea where we were headed, and even if I did, it was too hard to see the buildings from the campus walking paths. She finally turned us toward what first seemed like an unfamiliar building, but I soon recognized it as a lower level entrance to the central administration building.
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We momentarily lingered in the inside of the doorway—I thought we were there just to catch our breath. But Cari continued inside, opened a door to the right and took me by the hand down an unfamiliar hallway. She opened another door, this time to the left, and we were in a very nicely appointed bathroom, with a shower, and a number of sweet smelling soaps and lotions. Continuing through to the other side of the room, perhaps 18 feet in all, we came to another door. Cari opened it, turned to me and said "Now don't freak out on me. This is going to be fun. "Cari had led me into the inner office of the University's president. I still recall my feelings. Relief—for being out of the snow. Panic—for being in a place clearly off limits. Confusion—as I noticed Cari taking off ALL her clothes. Arousal. Arousal won. Cari's nipples were huge from the cold and from her own arousal. She walked to thefireplace and started a fire.
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I loved the way she bent over and showed me her pussy from behind. Its lips were pouting, and red from our earlier fucking. She was also wet and ready for more. The fire was bright and warm as she wheeled the president's leather chair in front of the fire and motioned for me to sit as I slipped out of all my clothes. I sat on the chair, and Cari sat facing me on my lap and in one motion, slipped my cock into her wetness and leaned forward so our tongues could meet. And she fucked me as we kissed and I played with her still hard nipples. There is a place just below my neckline toward my right shoulder that is, to this day, a shade of red. No hair grows there still. It is a result of the particular orgasm that Cari had as I emptied my balls into her pussy while she grinded down against me. To muffle her scream, she could do nothing but suck my skin into her mouth and bite down. OUCH, YUM!!!Cari finally let my skin go, and with eyes wide open we deeply kissed. Her tongue and mouth were cold from her blood flowing elsewhere, and then she burst out crying and held me tight, all the while still impaled on my half hard cock. She was still in a state of a powerful orgasm—one the likes of which I had never seen before. She shuttered, panted, sobbed, kissed me, licked me—all like a woman possessed. And then she just collapsed against me.
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We cuddled, kissed, and I took her nipples into my mouth and teased her until she parted her legs, inviting my fingers. I sucked and masturbated Cari to more orgasms, and then we curled before the fire and fell asleep. EIGHTThinking back I cannot recall a time in my life that I did NOT masturbate. I think that I had already hit my stride when I was six or seven years old. I can also recall the time as an eleven year old when this thick white stuff came out of my cock, gushed all over my fingers and onto the living room sofa late one night. It makes me smile to think that I instinctively knew that the "white stuff" was OK because the feeling was especially intense when the "thumping" feeling came. But I had not really discussed masturbation with any woman before Cari. It was a late winter afternoon when I arrived at a room on the second floor of the University Inn. Cari had left the door ajar, and she was waiting for me on the bed in her long white shirt, knees bent up, panties pushed aside, and pussy soaking. She took me in with what seemed like a frustrated glance and ordered me to disrobe and sit in the chair across from the bed. I followed my sexy lover's orders and I sat there naked with my rock hard red wet cock in my hand. Cari began to masturbate with her slender fingers working her in and out of her cunt with one hand, while she pulled her panties into her crack and wrapped them around the nub of her clit with the other. In fact, she was finger fucking herself while humping against her straining satiny light blue panties. Knowing that one of Cari's passions was to be forcibly taken and fucked raw, I momentarily considered just fucking her brains out. However, as I looked into her always open eyes, I quickly decided that she was, in fact, playing out one of MY fantasies of letting me see her pussy at work in graphic detail.
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Sitting there perhaps five feet away, I could see her pussy lips open and close around her fingers, gush with each thrust, and her engorged clit peer out from its satin roost. I could also see Cari's hardened nipples escaping from the confines of her unbuttoned shirt, and her torrid sucking on her lower lip. Every few minutes her body would stiffen and her moans would become louder, until finally I heard and saw her orgasm with an intensity that left her panties in two pieces. The words "oh my god" escaped her lips and she went limp. My cock was raging hard and wet, and I reached for her torn wet panties which I masturbated into. Cari had turned on her side toward the foot of the bed to watch me, and her hand was massaging the inside of my thigh as I came. Her other hand was between her own legs pressing against her still active clit. Cari took my hand and guided me onto the bed. We rubbed our bodies against each other and I unbuttoned the rest of her shirt and slipped it off her shoulders. Our tongues, as always, naturally found each other. I was hungry and thirsty for her pussy juice and began a trail of kisses toward where my lips wanted to be. But as I neared her waist I heard "Get back to your chair and pay attention. ".
