My Graduate School Romance - Astrid's Perspective
This is a sidebar to the primary story
My Graduate School Romance
. You do not need to read that story to enjoy this one. I credit Reject Reality for giving me the idea of a sidebar. Most of this story is set in the nineties and aughts (2000s). Remember things were slightly different then.
This is fiction. The characters in this story are flawed, just like you and me. Sometimes they make bad decisions as they struggle to live their lives. Sometimes they make life changing decisions. Again, all characters and situations are complete fiction, a product of my fertile imagination. Any similarity to actual people and situations is purely a coincidence. All constructive criticism is welcome.
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My name is Astrid Gunnarsdottir. I was born in Iceland. When I was five, my mother, Kristjana Heimisdottir received a lucrative offer from an American defense contractor. I later learned that my parents did not have a very good marriage and my father didn't mind that she took me to the United States. My older brother, ΓΓ°inn, stayed in Iceland with my father.
We settled just outside of Boulder, Colorado and I quickly adapted to American life. I learned English quickly and soon didn't even speak with an accent. Until I was in university, my mother and I would go back to Iceland at least once, often twice a year.
I have since learned that my mother was a top scientist in her field. She was able to purchase a very nice house in the suburbs and my schoolmates often commented on how fancy it was. Because she often spent long hours at work, she hired a live-in maid/cook named Alicia. She was older than my mom and her children were all grown. She was very much like a grandmother to me, often more of a mother than my own mother was.
When it came time to select a university, I had many options. I was salutatorian of my high school class and my mother said I could go anywhere I wished. As an eighteen year old kid, I just knew I wanted to get away from Colorado and go someplace warm, preferably near the ocean. During winter break of my senior year my mother and I toured several campuses. I thought UCLA was fabulous especially since it was in a big city. Exciting stuff for an American Icelandic girl.
People assume that since I am Icelandic that I have an Icelander's view of sex. I don't. I grew up in America and I am American through and through. During the summer before I began university I remember hanging out with my Icelandic cousins during our annual visit to ReykjavΓk. They preferred to have sex with a guy rather than to go on a date with him. I just didn't understand that philosophy. They offered to set me up with a number of men for sex, but I wasn't interested. They thought I was crazy. I went off to UCLA that fall still a virgin.
During my junior year in Los Angeles, I met Andrew. We hit it off and we dated for quite a while. After we had been going out for several months, I had my first sexual experience. He was very kind and sweet. I look back on it fondly, my halcyon days of youth.
By senior year, we shared an apartment and a bed. I demanded that Andrew stop seeing anyone else. He readily agreed. He was quite serious and was considering marriage. I, on the other hand, thought that was a bad idea. Several times he proposed to me. Each time I had to gently let him down.
Sex became quite regular. I really enjoyed it, but Andrew became more and more demanding. He would often demand a blow job. I have since learned that Andrew is slightly below average in the penis department. Oral sex was easy for me and I usually enjoyed pleasuring him, although at that time I wasn't a fan of the taste of semen. At first I was happy to comply, but when he started getting rough, I'd say 'no' and he wasn't happy about that. Sex started to be something he expected. I'd be damned if he was going to take me for granted. I was not his live-in whore. He kept wanting me to swallow all of his penis with what is known as deep throating. I tried a couple of times, but I always gagged.
One evening about a week before we were to graduate he begged me for a blow job. I started and he was thrilled. Andrew asked me again for a deep throat blow job and I just smiled at him. No way. I knew I was giving him a lot of pleasure, but this was supposed to be fun for me too. He never had any reason to complain. I knew he was getting close to his orgasm and I expected him to warn me. Instead, he grabbed the back of my head and forced his shaft down my throat. I started gagging and I felt him cum in my throat. I was going to puke and I couldn't breathe. I struggled to free myself. He wouldn't let me go.
I got nasty and grabbed his balls, squeezing as hard as I could. As he yelped, he freed my head. As I came off him I bit down as hard as possible on his penis. Then I puked all over him. Andrew was screaming.
I immediately got up and left the apartment. I stayed with my friend Joy for several days. I moved out and broke up with Andrew. Every day I received something from Andrew apologizing - flowers, cards, candy, and even poetry. I never took any of his phone calls. I just stayed away. I didn't need an abusive relationship.
I had lined up a job teaching English in Japan at a place called Hirosaki in northern Japan. I flew out a couple of days after graduation.
I had a wonderful time in Japan. The people were very friendly. I was able to learn a bit of Japanese and that helped me manage. There was a group of American teachers that took me into their group.
Within a week of arriving I started getting letters from Andrew. I didn't write back for at least a year. He was constantly asking for forgiveness and to give him another chance. He professed his love for me and how I was the only woman for him. Somehow I doubted his sincerity. I thought I would let him stew.
While in Japan, I started dating a fellow English teacher named Paul. He was very nice and we soon became intimate. Paul really enjoyed going down on me which was something new entirely. Andrew never did that. I experienced an orgasm for the first time. Oh my god! From now on, I would be demanding an orgasm from any lover I had.
Paul also wanted anal sex, but I was hesitant. I put him off for at least six months. He begged and I finally gave in. I knew that AIDS was primarily transmitted through anal sex and I insisted on all precautions. I did a lot of research and I set some specific boundaries and requirements. These included a condom, latex friendly lube, and that I would be on top.
On the evening that I lost my anal cherry, I came prepared. I had an average-sized dildo and a lot of lube. I insisted on complete control, it was my ass after all. I had Paul work my sphincter with the lubed up dildo until I thought I could handle his girth. Paul's penis was slightly above average. What I liked about him was that he was thicker than Andrew. When he was inside my vagina, he stretched me quite nicely.
Once I thought I was ready, I put the condom on Paul and placed myself over his penis. I very slowly pressed him into my ass. I found it was very uncomfortable, and soon it became painful. Nevertheless, I resolved that I would see this one bit of anal sex all the way through.
The entire time Paul was ecstatic, "It's this so cool!" and "This is the most amazing thing ever."
I was not thinking it was amazing or cool. I wanted it to be over. Once I felt marginally comfortable with his penis up my ass, I focused on moving up and down on him. Paul grabbed my hips and pulled me down.
I swatted his hands away, "It's my ass! I control the fucking!"
He looked devastated so I placed his hands on my breasts and he rolled my nipples. I had my eyes closed and I'm sure Paul thought I was having the time of my life, but I wasn't. I found I was groaning, not from pleasure, but from pain.
Soon Paul exclaimed, "Oh Astrid! Here I cum."
I didn't worry since he had a condom on, but I felt his hot cum in my ass.
What the hell! Should I have felt that?
When I pulled off of him I found a bloody, shitty penis and a broken condom. Blood and cum were dripping from my anus. I panicked and I was pissed. I ran to the bathroom and grabbed a hand mirror. Despite my efforts to stop the bleeding, blood flowed freely from my ass. If Paul had some kind of disease, I was sure to contract it. I made him drive me to the local emergency clinic.
The female doctor was very nice and gave me a regimen to help the fissure heal. She also had Paul provide a blood sample to be tested.
Paul felt really bad. He pampered me and helped me heal. A week later we got the results back - Paul was negative for any disease. After that anal episode, our sex life became sporadic and I became less than enthusiastic.
Halfway through my second year teaching English I was accepted into the University of Colorado's graduate school. I planned on staying in Japan until summer and then stopping off in Iceland on my way back to my mother's house. All this time Andrew was begging to get back into my life. I told him that when I got back to Colorado we could talk about it.
When I got back to my mother's house I learned that Andrew had moved to Boulder to be near me. My mother and Alicia thought he was very nice. I had my doubts. He would need to show me a lot before I would trust him again.
After about six months, I started seeing him regularly. After another three we started having sporadic sex again. I wasn't about to give him a blow job and he never asked. I noticed that I had left a scar on his shaft. Maybe that would remind him not to be abusive to women.
I was going to get an apartment, but my mother thought that was silly. I had plenty of privacy at her house and an apartment wouldn't have Alicia. I also got a full time position as a writing tutor in their Writing Center.
I received my master's degree and began teaching writing as a lecturer at CU. I really loved the teaching, but I didn't like the size of the school. I rarely got to know my students. At the time there were well over 25,000 undergraduates. I hated teaching in lecture halls. Nevertheless, I put up with it to get my curriculum vitae built up.
After two years I was accepted into this doctoral program. I moved that summer and Andrew followed me. He wanted to share an apartment, but I said 'no' to that idea.