A Higher Education Ch. 08


It was getting close to the end of my first school year, and I was full of mixed feelings about exactly what that meant — when I had time to think at all.

I was determined more than ever to have the final results putting me at or near the top of every course I’d taken. My first term results had been good, but not good enough, and I did not want that repeated, so every evening saw me hitting the books, either at home or in the library. Consequently, Laurel and I didn’t have all that much time to continue my other education.

Weekends were good. Once we hit March, unless it was snowing, we were out in Laurel’s beloved gardens. Since I knew very little about plants, I was just a strong back and willing arms to work under her direction. The nice thing about gardening to my mind was getting to watch Laurel.

Since she knew I was an “ass man” (as she put it), her attire always consisted of something tight covering that critical area, either jeans or shorts, and man, the view was fantastic.

Laurel really had the most incredible butt, heart shaped, firm, and whenever she flexed her gluteus to the maximus, something on my body would start to firm up. Being aware of this, she’d do it when she knew I was looking at her, then smile coyly over her shoulder.

“C’mon, big boy! You’re flagging. You ain’t gettin’ none of this until you’ve finished yer chores!”

Then she’d either slap that glorious rump, or rub it a bit, almost absentmindedly, but I knew better. It certainly brought her message home and I’d work at double speed. To get back at her, I began wearing shorts with no underwear. I lover her stealing glances at me with my partially erect cock on display down one leg or the other. It became a delicious game for us both.

One pair in particular were short and as she was prancing around in front of me on a Sunday afternoon in early April, my growing erection got long enough to poke out the bottom of the left leg. I made sure she saw it and within 2 minutes, we were in behind some shrubs, Laurel bent over and me pounding her from behind. Our orgasms were simultaneous and intense. After pulling ourselves together again, we went back to work as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, except I was kept at a low boil the rest of the afternoon looking at the wet spot in the crotch of her jeans.

Those warm spring afternoons in her bedroom or mine or some other room in the house were some of our best times together. After my experience with her friend Janet, Laurel had seemed uneasy for some weeks, almost as if she needed reassurance that I was still interested in her, silly woman.

As a result, she’d be almost manic sometimes when we made love. We began exploring all the positions in which two people could have sex and some of them were quite weird and wonderful. Laurel had certainly done a considerable amount of research into the possibilities, and one day casually mentioned that she’d toyed on and off over the years with doing a book on it.

“It would sort of be a modern version of the kama sutra.”

“Didn’t that Joy of Sex book cover that?” I asked as I concentrated keeping my cock going in and out of her smoothly.

“Not the way I’m thinking of doing it. This would be more like an encyclopedia rather than a how-to manual,” she said and then groaned as I tightened my sphincter, causing my cock flare inside of her. “Jesus, that feels good, Derek.”

At that point, Laurel was standing on her head in the middle of the living room, bent nearly double with her legs together and her feet resting on the floor behind her head. I was straddling her legs and was busily fucking downwards into her. It wasn’t possible to get all the way in, but she said that the stimulation for the woman was sensational in that position — if the guy’s cock was long and fat enough.

We’d tried out one earlier that she called “the bow” which was also quite hair-raising — for the woman.

That consisted of me lying with my legs outstretched. Laurel sat facing me, feet flat on the floor under her with her hands holding onto my ankles and her back radically arched. Bow indeed! By rocking back and forth she could impale herself on the top part of my erection.

She was well on her way to a second orgasm when I asked, “How do you bend your body into all these ridiculous positions?”

“Years of youthful ballet lessons,” she panted, “lots of yoga since then,” she lifted her head up for a moment and smiled, “and several vigorous young men helping me practise.”

“And you get a lot out of doing this? Wouldn’t the good old missionary position or a little bit of doggy feel just as good?”

“Variety…is…the spice…of life… Almost there…uh…uh…UH…UH… AHHHHHH!!”

Her orgasm was again spectacular to watch and since I was pretty close anyway, I just went with the flow and came massively, too.

In the afterglow, she moved forward to a more normal “cowgirl” position, still keeping me inside her.

Idly playing with my chest hairs as we recovered, Laurel began canlı bahis to talk. “That position is very good for a woman who wants her g-spot stimulated. With you, it’s especially good because of the way your cock turns up at the end. Wow! If my knees could take it, I’d have you like that once a day.”

“I always thought my erect cock looked a bit weird.”

“I’ve seldom seen a cock that’s perfectly straight. Most bend in the direction of the hand the guy strokes off with. Yours also goes a little bit right, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed. Could you make me hard again so that I could verify your theory?”

Laurel rolled her eyes, then started doing that vaginal muscle “ripple” that felt so incredible. My cock always responded to that.

“I bet you could bring me off like that.”

“Of course, but it’s not as much fun for me. Most women want some good hard thrusting to send them to la-la land.” She leaned down and kissed my nose. “However, I’ll do it for you sometime — if you’re good.”

“I’m always good,” I responded as I filled my hands with the twin glories of her wonderful ass. “So can any woman learn to do this?”

“Yes, but it—“

“Takes a lot of practise and several vigorous young men helping you practise,” I finished for her.

She laughed and her eyes took on a faraway look of concentration as the feelings intensified. “It’s just a muscle that needs to be trained like any other. You’re actually very easy to do since you’re so fat. A skinnier cock takes a lot more strength.”

“How many men have you had, Laurel?” I asked seriously.

At first, I didn’t think she would answer as she looked down at me pensively. “Probably four hundred.”

My eyes must have bugged out. “Then that means—“

“Yes. Ramon’s and my marriage was not your usual one. He loved to see me with other men, and quite frankly, once I realized how much I loved sex, I wanted to play with every cock I could get my hands on.” She was silent for a moment and the delicious squeezes of her pussy stopped. “Does that make you think of me any differently? I remember what you said about Janet and Michael’s relationship.”

I gave her derriere a squeeze. “It’s not what I was brought up to believe, but now that I’ve seen it in action and thought about it a bit, what they’re doing, what you and Ramon did, isn’t really cheating. Was he always there to watch you?”


“So you had men when he wasn’t around?”


“Did he always know about it?”

“Absolutely. That was part of the agreement.”

“Did he ever have other women?”

“Occasionally, but not often. For him, it was more about watching me.”

“Like Michael.”

“Yes. Like Michael.”

“Did you like it?”

“I loved it. I have more than a little bit of the exhibitionist in me. A big turn-on for me is watching people getting turned on watching me. All those cocks rising and all those women with their hands between their legs as I get screwed to oblivion…”

“Have you ever had more than one man at a time?”


“How many?”

“Why all the questions all of a sudden?” she asked shifting her body a little, and consequently shoving me inside her farther. The intensity of her squeezes increased dramatically. All this chatter was getting Laurel heated up again.

“Just curious.”

“Promise you won’t be turned off by the answer?”

“I promise.”

“Several times I had five men all at once.”

“How would you do that?”

“One in my mouth, one in my pussy, one in my ass and two in my hands.”

“Jesus!” I said as I thought about what that would look like. “I thought you didn’t want cocks in your…um…ass.”

“I don’t think I want your cock in my ass. You are over nine inches in circumference, Derek.”

“How many men have you had at one go?”

“Is this the last question?”

“Yes,” then I grinned, “for now.”

“Okay. A number of times I had about a dozen over the course of an evening.”

“In that room in the basement?”

“Usually. That’s what it’s for. Ramon and I used to have special parties.”

“I can imagine.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Yes, I’ll bet you can.”

“But what’s the largest number you had at one time?”

“It was in Europe one summer. Some Italian friends of Ramon. There was a big party at a villa, and I guess I had a little too much to drink. And I was also in one of those moods.”

“So how many?”

“Ah…Ramon counted forty-three.”

That admission stopped me cold. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I wish I were. It was a stupid thing to do. I could barely walk for the next week and I was damned lucky I didn’t catch something bad.”

“None of them used rubbers?”

“That was part of the, ah, game.” She sighed. “I was young and it was very foolish. You don’t think any less of me, do you?”

I shook my head. “You amaze me. Sometimes I feel like such a hick farm boy around you.”

Laurel bent down and bahis siteleri kissed me passionately. “You are no such thing. You’re my very special boy.”

I wrapped my arms around her and tried to return as good as I was getting. I’ve never kissed another woman who could put as much emotion into a kiss as Laurel could.

She got off me. “Now I’m all hot and bothered again. Want to try another position?”


The second week of May marked the last week of the term. Most of my finals were scheduled then, with one more the following week, then it would be time to return home.

Laurel had also scheduled her big yearly garden party for the Sunday of the third weekend. We’d both have a few days to do the final primping of all the plants, mowing the lawn and getting everything just right according to her exacting standards. On the preceding Friday, it rained cats and dogs and Laurel was beside herself, pacing at the dining room windows all day, watching blossoms getting pelted to death. Saturday was cloudy with intermittent showers, but we both went out and cleaned things up, regardless of the fact that we were soon soaked to the skin.

After three hours of that, I noticed that Laurel was shivering heavily.

I went over and took the pruning shears from her hand. “You look like a drowned rat. We’re going inside.”

“But there’s more work to do!”

“There’s tomorrow morning for that.”

“But I’ll be busy with the caterers. They arrive at 10:00.”

“You can tell me what to do, and I’ll finish. Now come indoors. You don’t want to spend the day of your big party stuck in bed, do you?”

She sighed. “You’re right, I suppose.”

“Good. Now, let’s get you into a nice hot bath while I put away the tools.”

As we crossed the back yard together, I so longed to put my arm around her shoulders and pull her to me, and I would have except the new neighbors on the left seemed to be really nosy — especially the wife. As a matter of fact, I noticed a curtain in one of their upstairs rooms flutter a bit as we entered the house.

In the kitchen, I took off Laurel’s sodden clothes and muddy sneakers while she stood like a small child, shivering miserably.

I turned her around, giving her a playful swat on the rump. “Get up into your bath, use lots of hot water and I’ll be up as soon as things are put away outside. Do you want a cup of tea or something stronger?”

“Maybe a bit of cognac.”

“Cognac it is, then.”

Laurel looked at me curiously for a moment and did as I’d asked without saying anything. I went outside, got all the gardening tools picked up, wiped them down in the garage and put them back in their designated spots, just as Laurel liked.

By time I got back in the house, I was beginning to shiver, so I quickly stripped off my muddy clothes and added them to the pile.

The cognac was kept on a sideboard in the dining room with some other after-dinner alcohol. I grabbed her favorite snifter, poured a generous amount and headed upstairs.

I found Laurel in her en suite bathroom, ensconced in a very full, steaming bath with lots of bubbles. She was lying back, eyes closed, with a nice healthy glow to her skin.

“Here’s your cognac.”

Laurel opened her eyes and smiled up. “You’re very good to me, Derek.”

I grinned back. “And you’re very good to me. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship.”

Her expression became more solemn. “You go above and beyond the call of duty. You’re kind and generous. You look after me. No one’s really done that since…since Raul died and I want you to know how much I appreciate it, how much I cherish it.” Then she grinned. “Remind me to send Mike a thank you note for suggesting you to move in.”

“Surely you’re joking.”

“Just a little.” She took a sip of cognac. “Oh that feels nice going down. Now I notice you’re naked, too.”

“I was just as dirty as you. No sense dragging that through the house.”

She shook her head. “You’re going to make some woman very happy someday. Please promise me you’ll never change.”

“Never change? I don’t know if I can promise that, but I will promise I’ll never forget where I came from or who helped me get there.”

Laurel’s face sort of crumpled.

“Are you all right?”

“Could I just have a bit of time alone?” she said and took a swallow from her snifter.

“Sure. I want to take a shower.” I turned to look at her from the doorway. “I’ll see you later.”

As I went down the hall to the other bathroom, I was wondering what I’d said to upset her. With the playful mood she’d been in while we worked, I’d been certain that she’d invite me into the bath with her, something we’d done a couple of times to our mutual enjoyment.

I shook my head. Women. Every time you had them pegged, they changed direction 180 degrees. That night, she said she wasn’t feeling well, so I made an omelette for myself and hit the books, studying for another final exam.


Sunday morning dawned bahis şirketleri sunny, warm and with a gentle breeze: perfect weather for Laurel’s party.

I made sure I was out in the garden well before 8:00. She joined me shortly after, bringing a steaming mug of coffee. There were still a gratifying number of spring bulbs hanging on. The dogwoods, redbuds, lilacs and several other shrubs were in full bloom and in the shade of some large trees at the back of the property, Laurel’s rhododendrons looked fantastic.

Final clean-up took little time and Laurel seemed in a pretty good mood, though somber. I put it down to anxiety over the party since it was very important to her that everything be perfect.

Later, as the caterer’s did their setting up thing in the kitchen and the patio, Laurel appeared in the doorway to my room as I lay studying on my bed.

“How do I look?”

She came into the room almost shyly. The dress she had on looked incredible. It was white with splashes of pastel greens and blues. The top was fairly tight, but the bottom was full and loose.

“You look fantastic,” I said as she twirled around to show me the back, then added teasingly, “You may have to watch it if a wind comes up, though. Don’t want any of the guests to see your panties.”

“That won’t happen,” she answered coquettishly. “I’m not wearing any.” She came over closer to the bed. “You see, I’m going to let you take me in this dress after everyone has gone home. I enjoyed our romp in the bushes last week, and would fulfill a fantasy I’ve had for a few years. You can have me out in that dark area under the trees. How does that sound?”

“Sounds absolutely perfect. What time are the guests leaving? Please say it’s by 2:00.”

“Silly boy. They won’t begin arriving until 1:00.”

“I know.”

She picked the book up off my stomach and handed to me. “Now concentrate on your work until I come and get you. I’m expecting to see you on the Dean’s list by this time next week!”

The witch. Concentration was now doubly difficult.

By 1:30, Laurel’s party was in full swing and I looked out of my window to see the backyard completely filled with people. All the women knew to dress for the occasion so the colors were wide and varied. Most of the men wore suits. There were colleagues from the university, friends, fellow gardening enthusiasts and a smattering of neighbors. I could see Laurel flitting from one group to another, often with a waiter in tow, making sure that everyone was having the best time. It would have been fun to be down there, but we’d decided that this was safer. The president of the university was in attendance, after all.

I sat down at the computer to organize my notes and quickly forgot about the party. Maybe twenty minutes had gone by when I was suddenly aware that someone was standing just behind my chair. From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a wisp of white fabric as a hand touched my cheek, then quickly drifted lower to my pants where it found a stiffening cock.


Laurel had decided to nip upstairs to tease me for a moment. Well, I’d fix her.

“I’m not interested, Laurel, so go away. I have studying to do. If you want to cum, you’ll just have to take care of it yourself.”

“Are you always this forward with women?” asked someone with a British accent.

I leapt to my feet and spun around, nearly knocking over the chair.

It was the nosy neighbor from next door — and she had on a white dress, too.”

“What are you doing in here?” I demanded.

“I was looking to see where you’d gotten to. I thought you might be feeling a little left out.”

“Speaking of out, you can do that right now. Get out of my room!”

She moved in, pinning me against the desk. “But we haven’t even been properly introduced yet.”

“I’m not interested. Get out!”

She reached out to touch my cheek again, but I batted her hand away.

I’d only seen this woman a few times back in the winter when everyone is always so bundled up. Turns out she was younger than I thought, maybe early forties and better looking, too. Her hair was fiery red, skin alabaster white, her dress showed she had a curvy body and she was taller than I’d thought, maybe five-six. She was certainly pretty, what with her red hair and very green eyes. I’d had no idea she was from England.

“Touchy, aren’t we?” Strolling over to the bed she sat down and bounced a few times in an experimental sort of way. “Well, since you won’t start, you rude young man, I’ll introduce myself. I’m Barbara Kingsbury. I suspect you know that I live next door. I know that your name is Derek and you attend the university — where your Professor Gonzalez-Jones teaches.”

Something in the way she said that last bit made a chill run down my back. I wondered just what the hell was going on.

So I asked that question.

Before answering, Barbara slowly looked at me from the top of my head, down to my toes and back up again, slowly, predatorily, and if she’d licked her chops, it wouldn’t have been out of place. Her eyes paused for quite sometime on my crotch. I could feel my dick shrinking.

“You and I are going to come to a little agreement.”

“And what might that be?”

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