Professor's Sugar Momma

I have no idea how sexual hypnosis -- or hypnosis at all -- works I just decided to use that here because later in their story Paul will use hypnosis (On Jill's permission) to make her orgasm in public.

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Jill

Paul was a charming and intelligent man, a great conversationalist, who had a wicked sense of humor. He knew how to behave in the gatherings of the rich and powerful, and he was the greatest lover I'd ever had. Sure, he was twenty-three years older than I, and he wasn't exactly handsome, but he wasn't ugly either. He was a huge muscular man with a friendly face and impeccable manners.

His size drew women's gaze like a magnet, and when he talked to them, making them feel comfortable, relaxed, and excited, quite fast, they were smitten by him. Paul probably was right in his analysis of why he had no trouble picking up women. He was a big and strong alpha male who oozed protectiveness, and that attracted women like bees to honey.

"He's something, isn't he?" a soft voice asked.

I turned to look at the woman who had spoken. She was a beautiful redhead woman. If you didn't know it, you'd never guessed that Mary Longden, the wife of billionaire philanthropist William Longden, was fifty years old. She looked, at least, ten years younger than her years. "Who?" I asked.

Mrs. Longden gave me an amused smile. "Paul Sandberg, the man you were staring at like a starving woman looks at a steak dinner," she glanced at Paul, who now was talking with her husband. "I never understood how Paul does that. How can he hide his loathe and hatred so well? I'm quite sure Bill doesn't know how much Paul hates him."

I glanced at Paul, talking with Mr. Longden. "Why would he hate your husband?"

"Because Bill stole Paul's wife of twenty-six years," Mrs. Longden said, and I realized that she was Paul's ex-wife. She glanced at me. "The rumor is that Paul is dating you."

"To tell the truth, I'm not sure what our relationship is," I said.

"But you are dating Paul?"

"We're not dating," I sighed, "I guess the best description is that we're friends with benefits."

"Do you love him?"

I looked at Paul talking with Bill Longden. Now that I knew what the smaller man had done to Paul, I wanted to save him from Bill. "I don't know, I really don't. But, even with the age difference, I think I might be falling in love with him," I confessed, not knowing why I told that to a stranger.

"Please, try not to hurt him more than I did. Paul is the best man I know," Mrs. Longden said.

I turned to look at her. "Then why did you leave him?"

She was silent for a moment before she said, "I was a single mother's daughter. We were so poor that sometimes mom didn't eat so that my brother and I could eat. Then I met Paul, and almost three decades, middle-class life felt amazing, like my slice of heaven. But then I saw how luxurious the life my brother lived after he got rich. And... well, when Bill started to court me even if he knew that I was married, I gave it a long and thorough thought. My kids were adult, and Paul didn't need me," Mrs. Longden glanced at me. "I chose money and luxurious life over love; it is as simple as that."

"Was it worth it?" I asked.

She gave me a sad smile. "When people ask that they want to hear that love is more important than money, and now that I lost the love of my life, I'm miserable. But that's not true. As shallow as it will make me sound... yes, as much as I still love Paul, the luxurious life I live now is worth losing him. I've found that love is overrated, and you really can buy happiness. Of course, the fact that Bill loves me unconditionally and worships the ground I walk helps a lot. I love to bask in his admiration. And, though I don't love him, I'm very fond of Bill, and I love everything he can give me. Losing Paul was a sacrifice I was willing to make to have the life of luxury I'm living now."

I nodded; I could relate to her. We'd used different routes to get there, but we'd had the same goal; to have a life full of luxuries, and we'd sacrificed a lot to get the life we wanted. "I also have sacrificed a lot to get where I'm now."

She glanced at me. "You're not judging me?"

"Why? We all must work what we have. You wanted something, and you took the steps needed to get it, and I've done the same," I said, "we took different routes, but we both sacrificed something to get to the top of the world."

"Interesting, you're the first woman who isn't judging me," Mrs. Longden said. "And you know well that you have what it takes to become a trophy wife. Even more so, since you're still young."

"I'm younger than you, but I still am not as gorgeous as you are. You are fifty-years-old, and men still turn to look at you when you enter the room. You age like Jennifer Aniston, a year for every five years. I don't have that going on for me, so I work my ass off to retire before I hit forty. Then I'll take myself a trophy husband," I said. "For now, I'm satisfied having a job I love and Paul as my boy toy."

"I age like Jennifer Aniston, a year in five years..." Mrs. Longden smiled. "That's a new one and appropriate since Aniston and I were born the same month," she raised her eyebrow. "Care to explain the boy toy comment?"

"My relationship with Paul is complicated, to say the least. We joke that I'm his sugar momma. The truth is that if he'd promise to be available when I want him, I'd give Paul everything he'd ever need. Paul's talents in bed alone are worthy of a lot of money," I grinned at her, "I guess I have you to thank for that... thanks for training him."

Mrs. Longden burst into laughter. "He was well trained before I met him. His tutor was one of his mother's friends," she said, "that reminds me, ask him to train you to please a man. Trust me on this; every man you'll date after him will send thank you letters to him."

I snorted. "Paul already is training me in the art of sexually pleasing a man. He just thinks that I haven't noticed."

"Yeah, he's not as slick as he thinks he is," Mrs. Longden said. "Did you know that he married me because he knocked me up? He didn't love me, but he saw it as his duty to step up and marry me."

"No, I didn't know that. It's hard to believe that any man would do that on this day of age." I said.

Mrs. Longden shrugged. "Paul is an atheist, but he was raised as Catholic. It is hard to get rid of that upbringing even if you stop believing in God. Be warned, atheist or not, Paul's view of abortion still is very Catholic."

I raised my eyebrow. "Why are you telling this to me? Paul and I... we're not serious."

Mrs. Longden smiled at me. "Because I've watched you since you came in with Paul. Regardless of what you say, even a blind person can see that you are in love with him," she said.

I looked at Paul, trying to imagine spending the rest of my life with him. I had nothing against him moving in with me. That revelation made me feel a bit uneasy, after all, I loved the freedom that living alone gave me. "You might be right," I said.

"Well, I advise you to be careful," Mrs. Longden said and picked two champagne glasses from the tray and handed the other one for me. "To us, Paul's little love-bitches."

I burst into laughter, and we drank the toast. "You are a strange woman, Mrs. Longden."

"Mary, just call me Mary," Mrs. Longden said, "you remind me of myself. A self-assured, unapologetic woman who knows what she wants and is ready to sacrifice a lot to get it. I think that in a different situation, we could have been good friends."

"Why can't we be friends?"

Mrs. Longden gave me a sad smile. "Because I have to stay the hell away from Paul and people who know him so that I can bask in the adoration of my husband without any regrets. It is enough that my son and daughter remind me of him."

"I can understand that," I said, and I did understand her. She was still in love with Paul, and she coveted him. She had traded Paul to a lesser man who could give her the life of her dreams. Losing the love of her life was the sacrifice she was willing to make, but she didn't want to be reminded of that sacrifice. "Why did you cheat on Paul? Why didn't you just divorce him?" I asked because it bothered me. I understood why she'd left Paul, but why had she betrayed him?

She sighed deeply. "I regret having sex with Bill before I divorced Paul. Cheating Paul was a terrible thing to do. Paul trusted me, and I broke that trust. Lying and cheating probably hurt him more than the divorce. But I'm a selfish woman, and I wanted to be sure that Bill could sexually satisfy me before I'd divorce Paul."

I shook my head. "You could have handled that better," I said, gulped the champagne down and nodded to her. "I'm going to go and save Paul from your husband. It was nice to meet you, but I guess it is time to say farewell."

"Goodbye," she said.

I went to Paul and slid my arm into his. "Mr. Longden, I'm sorry, but I have to steal my date, he needs to spend time with the woman who brought him here," I said, "I'm sure you understand."

"Of course, it was nice to meet you, Paul," Mr. Longden said.

As I dragged Paul away, he said, "Thanks for saving me, I was ready to beat him pulp."

"You wouldn't have done that," I said.

"Perhaps, but I did fantasize about it," Paul sighed deeply. "I hate that he's so nice, man. I wanted him to be an asshole, but no-oo, he's a nice man who begged my forgiveness."

"Did you give it to him?"

"Yeah, mostly because I suddenly realized that forgiving him was my way to finally let go of Mary."

"Very mature of you, most men would hold a grudge to their grave," I said.

"No, they wouldn't. Real-life doesn't work like fiction. Most of the time, the spouses that were cheated on will get over it. They will be more careful the next time, but they will get over it. Those who can't get over it usually have to pay huge alimonies and child supports. Still, eventually, they too either forgive or become bitter old men and women. And how many bitter old divorced men and women do you know?"

"Only two, and I call them mom and dad," I said.

Paul tilted his head as he gave me a curious look. "Both of your parents are bitter divorcees?"

"Uh-huh."

"How did that happen?"

"I don't know the whole story. I was too young to remember, but Jack -- my oldest brother -- told me that the end of their marriage was a bitter circle of revenge affairs that they rubbed on each other's faces. They've been divorced almost twenty years, and they're still trying to hurt each other"

"That doesn't sound very healthy."

"It isn't, especially when they're still an on-off relationship with each other. They always have been, I was twelve when I first time found them in bed together. I was deliriously happy that my parents were together until three months later, they were literally throwing plates at each other. Then mom fucked my school's principal making sure that dad caught them, and a week later, dad gave mom's best friend a good revenge fuck. My brothers tell me that they're still doing it. Still fucking and hurting each other. They're in their late sixties, old enough not to act like teens, but no, they still are doing their best to hurt each other. It's bizarre how they can do that to each other and still claim that they love each other."

"You cannot choose whom you love," Paul said. "I'm sorry for your parents and for you. But you do know that you're not responsible for them, don't you?"

"Yeah, I tried to fix them until I left college, then I decided that I'm not going to interfere with their lives anymore. If they want to be miserable, it is their choice."

"That it is," Paul said. "How many siblings do you have?"

"Three big brothers, I'm the baby of the family."

"That explains why you're the princess," Paul said. the

"I guess," I said.

We went to the bar, and Paul ordered drinks for us. "I'm curious, why did you and Mary laugh together?"

"We weren't laughing at you," I said.

"Well, that's a relief, but I didn't ask that, did I?"

I didn't want to tell him that his ex-wife and I had laughed at the fact that we are his bitches in love. Paul didn't need to know that I was falling for him. "Your ex-wife and I... we're much alike."

"More than you think," Paul said. "However, Jill, I'm a man, and our ego is fragile and attached to our genitals. I need to know what you two were laughing about, or I will think it was about how tiny my dick is."

I burst into laughter; Paul was the last man to worry about the size of his dick. And not only because his penis was proportional to his size but because he was too practical to worry about things he couldn't change. "You're the last man who would worry about that," I said. "You are a pragmatic man, and you wouldn't worry about the dick size because you cannot do anything about it. And, though yours is not the biggest, I've seen your dick still is way above average."

"I know," he said. "And I'm sure that most women out there will rather take a skillful and imaginative lover with a small dick than a boring lover with huge cock."

"You're right on that. Skill and imagination will always beat the big cock in bed," I admitted. "Just so that you know: I have no idea how big your dick is, but it perfectly fits me. Fills me up completely without hurting at all. It's like our genitals were made for each other."

Paul gave me one of his smug smirks. "Well, I'm a bull, and you're a mare."

"Huh?" I asked.

"It is from the Kama Sutra, there are three categories of male and female genitals. The middle one for men is bull, and its female counterpart is a mare. Bull and mare fit together," Paul explained.

I smirked. "I'd say that your dick isn't middle-sized, it is larger than average."

"Then I'm a horse, and you are an elephant," he said. "And I'm a therapist, it is just as hard to distract me than it is to distract a lawyer. What were you and my ex-wife laughing about?"

"We should be getting to the ballroom, soon the ceremonies will start," I said and groaned when he didn't move. He just stared at me with his piercing blue eyes. "Fine," I grunted. "We laughed at your sexual proficiency, how she trained you, and the fact that you're training me to be your ideal lover, and you think that I haven't noticed what you're doing."

"Now that wasn't hard, was it?" Paul said, "now I'm happy even though I know that it wasn't the whole truth. Now, may I ask if you've heard erotic hypnosis?"

"Huh?" I said. "No, I have not, but I can guess what it is from the name."

"Probably," Paul said, "do you trust me?"

I looked at him for a long moment. "Up to a point."

"Good, would you trust me enough to believe that I will never make you do anything that would ruin your reputation among your peers?"

"Yes," I firmly said, I couldn't see him doing anything that would hurt me that way.

"Good," he smiled at me, "I don't actually want to use hypnosis, I just want to put you in a slight trance to enhance your natural reactions. Nothing that anyone will notice, you'd just be a bit more... responsive to me and to touch."

"Explain it to me," I said.

In the next five minutes, he explained to me what he wanted to do. The way he described it, he wanted to make me feel much the way I felt after a good massage—a slightly lightheaded, more connected with myself, sexier, and happier. Paul told me that he could have done it to me like Woody Harrelson did it in the Now You See Me, and the fact that he had not done it without asking my permission made me trust him. "Will you promise not to make me feel embarrassed?" I asked.

"No, but I can promise not to embarrass you. I cannot control your feelings. I fully intend to make you feel embarrassed. There aren't many emotions that enhance the sexual experience as much as embarrassment does." Paul gave me his dashing smile while stroking my shoulder. "But, I promise that you will not be humiliated."

"I guess I can accept that," I said.

"Okay, Princess, will you let me put in a slight trance?"

I thought about it for two seconds, and then I nodded and said, "Okay," before I lost my nerves.

I am not sure what Paul did, it was not anything like in the movies. He just seemed to mumble with a soft voice looking into my eyes. There weren't pendulum or flame or backward counting. I felt only confused as I stared into his eyes for a long time. Then, suddenly I felt more relaxed than ever before.

Paul smiled at me. "Princess, how do you feel?"

"Relaxed and..." I frowned as I tried to figure out the description of the feeling I had about my body. Suddenly I was more aware of it than ever before. "I, uh, I feel my body... I... my body sort of is tingling."

"That sounds good," Paul said, offering his arm to me. "Shall we go?"

"We shall," I said, sliding my arm into his.

We were among the last people getting into the ballroom, and right after we had sat down, the lights were dimmed. When the awarding ceremony started, Paul pulled the tablecloth on my lap. I glanced at him, wondering what he was going to do. I gasped when I felt his warm hand on my thigh. He slid his hand under the hem of my skirt.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Warming you up, don't worry, no one's going to notice," Paul said.

As he kept stroking my inner thigh the desire coursed through me like fire, I swallowed hard, trying not to moan at the feel. My nipples hardened in excitement; my pussy juices started to flow like the river Nile. He squeezed my thigh lightly, the feeling of the warmth of his fingers made me gasp. My mind whirled, not sure what to make of the pleasurable sensations surging through my body.

Slowly and softly stroking my thigh, making my body tingle, making my mind busy with lustful thoughts. My whole body was focused on his touch, relishing his fingers' attention, the way he teased me into reaching out for each delicious sensation.

His warm hand on my skin felt like fire, it was a burning that I never wanted to stop. My ass moved instinctively forward so that his fingers would touch my pulsating pussy. I didn't care that I was in public, I was sure that if he'd just rub my pussy with his magic fingers, my body would be consumed by the best orgasm of my life!

Suddenly Paul pulled his hand away and leaned on me. "Get up and go to the stage. Your team won," he whispered in my ear.

I blinked; in my aroused state, I'd completely forgotten that I was here because my team had been nominated in the Best Business Team award. People were clapping and looking at me. I thanked God that I had prepared a speech. I took the speech out of my purse, and then, feeling a bit dizzy with the desire, I stood up.

My pussy was very moist, and as I walked to the stage, and with every step, I could feel my panties being pinched between my wet pussy lips. The fabric of my dress seemed to be caressing my stiff and extremely sensitive nipples. I was sure that everyone in the room would notice how hoarse my voice was and how my nipples stood out like bullets against my dress's thin fabric.

I felt more embarrassed than ever before.

Somehow, I managed to give the speech, and then while the other members of my team were giving their speech, I kept my eyes on Paul. Suddenly, an image of him pushing me over the table and taking me right there, in front of everyone flashed through my mind. I hastily turned my eyes away from him.

When I finally got back to Paul, I kissed him on the cheek. "God, I've never been this horny," I whispered in his ear.

"I know," Paul said, "pull the skirt up when you sit down."

I obeyed him, fearing that someone might see me pulling the skirt up, but, to my relief, no one paid attention to us. Right after I had sat down, Paul moved the tablecloth over my lap and rested his hand on my thigh. His touch electrified my sopping pussy. My breasts tightened and ached painfully against the confines of the bra. My stomach tensed and twitched; my center felt as if it was boiling.