Coeds

Coeds (Part 2

Kathryn M. Burke

Melanie began coming over to the house two or three times a week—sometimes for study, sometimes for sex, sometimes for both. Joseph found to his delight that, after the pain of intercourse dissipated after several sessions, she was eager and willing to engage in multiple couplings, the very thing Della was disinclined to do. One time, as Joseph was pounding her, he said between ragged breaths:

"Melanie . . . would you like to . . . swallow my come?"

"Yes, yes!" she cried, her eyes getting wide.

With supreme effort (for what man ever wants to withdraw from a woman's pussy?), he scooted up the young woman's body and, squatting over her chest, pumped his own member in front of her face. Melanie obediently opened her mouth, although she shut her eyes tight shut (what woman wants to get come in her eyes?). And Joseph exploded.

He didn't get his entire emission into her mouth; some of it spurted erratically over her cheeks and nose, and one long stream went all the way up to her hairline. But a large quantity of it did land on her tongue, and she promptly swallowed it.

Licking her lips afterward, she said, "Interesting taste."

"So," Joseph said nervously, "you like it?"

Melanie smiled indulgently. "Let's just say I don't dislike it. Maybe I like the

idea

of it better than the reality—you know, taking in your essence into my body."

"Well, you do that with your pussy too."

"I do—but somehow this is more immediate." After a pause: "Why is it so salty?"

"I have no idea. You'd have to ask a biologist."

Melanie made a mental note to bring up the question discreetly with one of her scientifically inclined friends.

During another session, on a Saturday afternoon, the couple was resting after a vigorous bout, Joseph placing Melanie on top of himself as he massaged her all over—shoulders, back, thighs, bottom. Especially her bottom.

"You like that part of me?" she said impishly.

"Very much."

"Your wife seems to have a nice butt. Not that I've seen it bare."

"Her butt's very nice."

But Joseph seemed preoccupied as he continued to knead Melanie's posterior. And, with all the keen awareness of fluctuating emotions that women seem instinctively to have, she sensed that something was the matter. She asked her lover what it was.

"Oh, nothing," he said in a patent lie.

"Some on, it's not nothing," she said, shaking his head back and forth with her small hands.

"I was just wondering," he said in a wistful voice, "whether you, um—whether you—"

"Out with it!" she demanded.

"Whether I can go into your bottom," he said in a rush.

There was a deep silence as Melanie contemplated this latest advance—if that's what it was—in their relationship. She rested her head pensively on Joseph's chest, and for a long time she didn't speak. Then at last:

"Is that what you want to do?"

"Only if you want to."

"I hear it really hurts."

"It might the first time—maybe the first couple times. But you get used to it."

"And . . . your wife . . ." But she already knew the answer to that.

"She won't let me," he said with the lugubrious tone of a little boy whose mother has denied him another raid of the cookie-jar.

"And that's why I'm here?" she said with unwonted bitterness.

"No, no! God, no! Melanie, how can you think that? You're here because—because I care deeply for you."

"I know you do. I'm sorry I said that. Okay, we can try."

"If it hurts too much, we can stop."

"Okay."

Joseph got up from the bed and was heading out of the room when Melanie said, "Where are you going?"

All he said was, "Lube."

He came back with a jar of cold cream—Della's, as it happened. (He made a mental note to buy her another jar: she would probably not want to use this one after she knew what it had been used for.)

He scooped up some of the substance onto his fingers and indicated that Melanie should roll over onto her stomach. She was reluctant to comply, staring fixedly at his fingers. It seemed she didn't relish the idea of Joseph—or any person, man or woman—probing that delicate area.

"It's easier if I do it," he said gently.

Melanie got into a supine position—somewhat like a little girl reluctantly allowing a doctor she doesn't trust very much to give her a suppository. She wriggled her butt a little when Joseph applied the stuff, then waited like a sacrificial lamb for the procedure to begin.

Joseph, hard as rock in anticipation of performing an act he'd dreamed (and fantasized) about for years if not decades, carefully placed himself on top of his young lover. At five foot ten he was so much larger than Melanie that his body seemed to swallow her up: someone looking at them from above might not even detect her presence underneath him, except for the legs that were sticking out on either side of him.

As he brought his cock to that tight opening, she clenched her sphincter instinctively, and Joseph had to squeeze her bottom several times to get her to loosen up. Saying "Just relax, dear," he forged in. Melanie's eyes bugged out and her jaw dropped as she tried to deal with the utterly novel (and, quite frankly, painful) sensation; but, shy and seemingly delicate as she was, she was endowed with more courage and determination than the usual young woman—and she endured the invasion of her lover's long, thick cock into her derrière with admirable bravery.

For his part, Joseph was in transports as he experienced the inexpressible feel of that tiny orifice as it seemed, half unwillingly, to engulf his member. As he began his slow back-and-forth motions, he became almost dizzy with ecstasy, and he reached around her body to grab her breasts and kiss her face as he pumped. She was letting out little sighs or grunts in rhythm with his thrusts, and a frown of pain covered her face. Joseph almost wanted to ask her if she wanted to stop—but

he

didn't want to stop, and as long as his partner could take the punishment, he would carry on.

His climax was an almost transcendent event that caused him to shout out at the top of his voice—and Melanie echoed his cries as a sudden and unexpected climax washed over her at the same time. Their mutual thrashing almost caused Joseph to slip out of her anus, but he remained firmly embedded in her long after both of their paroxysms had at last subsided.

Only then did she gently urge him to pull out.

He did so, rolling off of her and onto his back next to her. But he was so overcome with emotion that he immediately grabbed her and dumped her on top of himself—and then he made so bold as to probe her anus to make sure that he had really discharged in there. He could feel the thick, viscous fluid leaking slowly out of her. So it was real! He'd possessed a woman's bottom for the first time.

"Melanie, I love you," he whispered in her ear.

She raised her head and gazed at him. With her shy smile (oh, how that smile squeezed his heart) she said, "I love you too, Joseph."

They cuddled some more, and then she went home.

As Joseph and Della were lounging in bed that evening, she looked him up and down.

"You two were really going at it this afternoon, weren't you?" she said with a wry smile.

"It got pretty intense," he said, not really keen on discussing such a wonderful moment.

"You're not hurting that poor girl, are you?" she said accusingly.

"No, no! I wouldn't do that."

"You might not intend it, but she hasn't had a lot of experience—and she may not be very inclined to call you out if you're causing her pain. You

are

her teacher, after all."

"She'd tell me if I was doing anything she didn't like."

"I'm not so sure about that. You just be careful—she's a delicate creature."

"She's tougher than you think."

"Maybe."

They lapsed into silence. There were any number of things that were running through Joseph's mind, but he wasn't certain any of them could really be talked about with his wife.

"Aren't you worried," he said tentatively, "that I might—you know . . ."

"No, I don't know."

"Fall for her," he blurted out.

She gazed right into his face. "You already have," she said bluntly. "And so has she."

He gasped. "How—how did you know that?"

"Oh, Joseph, it's obvious." More tenderly she said, "You love her, don't you?"

"Yes."

"You've said it to her?"

"Yes."

"And she's told you she loves you?"

"Yes."

"I knew this would happen." But she suddenly became strangely cheerful. "But, lucky for you, I have very little doubt you'll run off with her. I mean, the idea's just too ridiculous, isn't it?"

Joseph was a bit miffed at his wife's cavalier tone, but he knew she was right. "I suppose," he muttered.

"Look, you can love her all you want to, so long as you remain my husband. We have a lot more going for us than just sex."

"It's not just sex with her either!"

"I know that. But she's twenty-one and you're forty-one. No offense, but when she graduates in a year she'll probably drift out of your life, and that'll be the end of it."

He lapsed into a moody silence. Dammit, why was his wife so perceptive?

"You're not the least bit jealous?"

"Oh, sure I am. But I'm also reasonable. I know how far you'll go with a lovely creature like her."

"Well, then," he said more boldly, "I wonder if you'd consider having her move in with us."

The idea appeared to take Della by surprise. "Move in here? Into this house?"

"Well, sure! She's practically living here as it is, with all the times she comes over for study and, um, other things."

"Have you talked about this with her?"

"No, but I can sense she wants it."

Della frowned in concentration. "It may not be a bad idea. Maybe it's better if I have her close by. You know what they say: keep your friends close and your enemies closer!"

"She's not your enemy! She likes and respects you."

"Glad to hear it. Well, let's give it some thought."

In fact, the plan was put into effect soon thereafter, as Melanie herself was overjoyed at the development. She actually wanted to get to know Joseph's wife better—maybe she could give her tips about his idiosyncrasies and things like that. She aimed to please! Della, for her part, found Melanie useful in various ways. Occasionally the young woman took on the duty of preparing dinner for the household—especially on those days when the two professors had to work until late in the afternoon. They would come home and find Melanie busily whipping up a succulent meal (her mother had trained her well in the kitchen), and they couldn't help being impressed by the girl's efficiency and helpfulness.

"She'll make a fine wife to someone someday," Della said. But her look to Joseph said:

Not to you, though!

There was more pillow talk between husband and wife one night.

"So," Della said somewhat sarcastically, "you're training your little bedmate well?"

"Don't talk about her like that!" Joseph said, getting angry.

"I'm sorry. I meant no offense. But she's proving—satisfactory?"

"Yes."

"You . . . go into her butt?"

"Yeah."

"And she swallows your come?"

"Yup."

"She can take multiple penetrations in a session?"

"You bet."

"Well, you can't ask for more than that."

"She's fabulous." Then he added quickly: "You're fabulous too!"

"Thank you. At least I'm getting some work done on my book."

"That's wonderful."

There was a little silence. Joseph felt almost embarrassed at what he was about to ask—and mortified that he felt that way. This was his own wife, for Pete's sake!

"You know, Della, I find you pretty attractive too."

"Bully for you."

"Oh, Della, come on! You know what I'm trying to say."

Given that he was now tugging at her nightgown in an effort to get it off of her head, she could hardly be mistaken. She let him strip her, although she continued to look at him a blank expression.

"You—you don't want it?" he said, crestfallen.

She took pity on him. "Of course I do." And she opened her arms to him.

He gazed upon his wife's naked body and marveled at the luscious image of mature womanhood it revealed. Her breasts were actually a tad smaller than Melanie's, but they were firm, ripe, and exquisitely shaped, their nipples protruding seductively as he seized them. Her flat stomach and the thick bush at her delta actually caused him to salivate.

It had been more than a week since they'd been intimate, and he didn't realize how much he missed it—and her. He almost attacked her body, pinning her to the bed as he landed on top of her, showering kisses on her lips and cheeks and neck, and slipping into her effortlessly. She was quite wet, but even so she gasped at his sudden entry—almost as if she were a virgin! But soon they got into a nice rhythm. He pounded her relentlessly, and she grunted at each of his thrusts. And before he knew it, he sent an explosive and copious emission into her, re-establishing the intense bond of intimacy that had seemed on the verge of being severed with the presence of the delicious Melanie.

Joseph regretted coming so fast, knowing that Della hadn't come close to a climax herself. He quickly withdrew, slid down next to her, and began a manual stimulation—slow and steady, but with increasing tempo and vigor—that elicited a thunderous orgasm in her, as she clutched the sheets with spasmodic hands and let out something close to a shriek.

"Holy mackerel!" she said, gasping for breath. "What just happened?"

"I just made love to my wife," he said with a certain smugness.

They cuddled for a while, and then Joseph—for whom that first coupling was almost a kind of appetizer—grew hard again.

As he made a move to mount her a second time, Della placed a warning hand on his chest.

"Hey, buster!" she said sharply. "What do you think you're doing?"

He froze as he lay on top of her. "I—I was hoping to—"

"You know that's against the rules. I'm one and done, remember? This is a weeknight, and we have to go to work tomorrow. If you want more, you'll have to go to my relief pitcher."

"You sure that's okay?" he said, somehow fearful that she was teasing him.

"That's what she's here for, you dummy," she replied in her best lady-professor voice.

He sighed, got off of his wife, and trudged out of the room, as Della curled up to go to sleep.

Padding naked to the guest bedroom, he opened the door and saw Melanie doing some last-minute reading of a textbook while lying on the bed in her nightgown.

She gazed at him up and down, fixating on his engorged member—still slick with the mingled juices of his own and his wife's emissions.

"You seem to have had quite a tussle in there," she said with a smile.

"You heard us?" he said, mortified.

"It's pretty hard not to," she said, peeling off her nightgown over her head and extending her arms out to him.

"You—you're okay if we do some stuff?"

"That's why I'm here, I guess."

And so they got down to business.

*

A few weeks later, Melanie had something interesting to say as she was cuddling with Joseph after a multi-orgasmic session.

"You know," she said, resting on top of him and giving him little kisses on his face, "there's a girl named Brenda Waters who really likes you. Do you remember her?"

"Um, I'm afraid I don't," he admitted.

"She was in your class first semester last year. She's now a junior—a year younger than me."

"Why did she say that to you?" he said—then, in sudden alarm: "Jesus, Melanie, you didn't let her know that we—"

"No, no, I'm not that stupid," she said, a trifle annoyed. "She knows I'm doing this independent studies project with you."

"And she just came up to you and said she liked me?"

"Well, if you must know, she said, 'He's pretty hot.'"

Joseph glowed with pride. "She thinks I'm hot, eh?"

"Don't let it go to your head. Most of the profs around here, male or female, are a bit on the elderly side—so anytime a nice-looking young professor like you comes along, he's going to attract some attention."

"So . . . what exactly does she want?"

Melanie gave him almost the exact expression—

Are you some kind of idiot?

—that Della sometimes gave him.

"She—she wants to go to bed with me?" Joseph cried incredulously.

"It sure seems that way."

"And—you wouldn't mind?"

Strangely, he felt more worried that Melanie would feel betrayed by his bedding down with another coed than his wife would.

"It's not as if I have you all to myself as it is," she said, nodding to the master bedroom, where Della was sleeping peacefully.

Joseph licked his lips. "You're absolutely certain that's what she wants?"

"I'd be willing to bet on it."

"Well, I guess the only thing is to—"

"Have her come over?"

"I guess so."

Joseph was on tenterhooks as he waited, the next Saturday afternoon, for Melanie to bring Brenda to the house. Of course, at that point Melanie couldn't possibly keep secret what she and Joseph were doing, and he just hoped that Brenda could keep her mouth shut. He had visions of administration officials holding a kind of Kafka-esque trial on him, his name slathered all over the

National Enquirer

—and maybe even a movie made of his antics. (He'd be delighted to play the lead role himself.)

When the two young women entered the house, Joseph gasped. Brenda was gorgeous—how could he not have remembered her from a year ago? Of course, it helped that, after removing her coat (the fall weather was starting to get chilly), she revealed herself wearing a skimpy tank top and a tight-fitting skirt that only came down to the middle of her thighs. She was petite, like Melanie—maybe five foot four—and quite slender. But Joseph sensed a wiry toughness in her. Naturally he visually devoured her ample breasts and round bottom—but what really struck him was a certain keen glint in her eyes that somehow made her seem far older than her years.

Introductions were made, and then Brenda got right down to business.

"So where does this stuff happen?" she said, looking around the living room as if carnal activity might occur right there on the sofa or the easy chair or maybe even the thickly carpeted floor.

"Upstairs," Melanie said, a little taken aback at Brenda's haste. She wouldn't have been surprised if the girl started undressing right in front of them. "I guess you'll have to go to the master bedroom. I'll be in the guest bedroom if you need me."

"I don't think we'll need you," Brenda said with something of a sneer.

In a daze, Joseph followed the two young women upstairs. Just as Melanie expected, Brenda began stripping on the staircase, peeling off her top to expose her bare breasts. In a matter of minutes, they got started.

It was about an hour later that Della, returning from some errands, heard some strange sounds emanating from upstairs.

Dropping her parcels in the hallway inside the front door, she trooped up the stairs—and met a very strange sight in the bed that she shared with her husband.

Joseph had pinned the poor girl down as she was thrashing prone on the bed. He was thrusting violently into her—into her anus, so far as Della could tell. Meanwhile, Brenda was shrieking like a banshee, crying, "Get out of me, you son of a bitch! You fucker, come out of my ass!"

"Jesus Christ, Joseph!" Della exclaimed. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" She had dimly recalled that some "new girl" was supposed to come to the house today; but the last thing she expected was her husband acting like some kind of—

"Della, will you just wait till I'm finished?" Joseph said as he continued to pound the girl's posterior.

"Joseph McHenry, you stop that right this minute!"

And with that, she stalked into the room and actually pried Joseph off the girl, rolling him over so that he landed awkwardly against the headboard, his red, engorged cock covered with streaks of cold cream and perhaps other substances.