How my life had changed over the past few weeks. I had done things I would never have dreamed of, never even have thought possible. Things that once would have just turned me right off. I had been fucked by a woman – Jesus, I let her fuck me like I was the woman! And I had actually enjoyed. I fucking loved it, in fact; it wasn't something I was going to brag about to my buddies, but I had to admit it to myself – she fucked me like I was a girl, almost like I was some kind of faggot, and I had loved it. How weird things seemed to have become for me all of a sudden.
That night, that weird night, after she had taken me on the patio, we curled up in bed and both fell asleep. I remember dreaming about her, her soft skin, that lovely fair European complexion. I dreamed I was fucking her, making love to her passionately, kissing her; our mouths seemed to blend together in the tender passion of the moment. I remember waking up and feeling her hands rubbing up and down my chest. She was lying across my legs, her velvet mouth sliding up and down on my cock. This had been happening while I dreamed of her. I lay back and let her work her magic mouth on me. Soon she brought me to another earth shattering release. My God, did she learn how to do that, and if so, where, how? Or was it just a God-given talent? Who was she?
I thought about that night, and about Kate, a lot over the next few days. Was I falling in love with her? Jesus, I never would have expected that to happen. But was I? No, I don't think so. She's a violent tempered bitch. But I definitely wanted to see her again, wanted to be with her again. Actually, I really just wanted to fuck her. As good as her blow jobs were, I wanted to be inside her, feel her slender, soft body under mine, feel her skin on mine as I drove my cock in and out of her sweet pussy. Just like in my dream.
I was sitting at home, ballgame in TV, as I idly pondered over all this. That's when the phone rang. I felt a rush through my body when I recognized Kate's voice on the other end of the phone.
"Hi David, it's Kate," she said, as if she needed to introduce herself. She had such a sexy voice. I would instantly recognize it anywhere.
"Hi Kate, how are you going?"
"Pretty good, very good in fact," she said. "And how are you, my girl?"
"Ha ha, very funny," I replied, a little mortified.
"Sorry about that. Couldn't resist. But I was just thinking about the other night. David, that was amazing. You were sooo sexy."
"Well, thanks. I guess it was pretty amazing. So was your blow job afterwards."
I heard her giggle over the phone. I couldn't help but notice that there was none of the sharpness, the normal sarcasm in her tone, at least so far in the conversation. It thrilled me to hear her like that, the soft side of her so rarely displayed. For a minute I paused over the phone, not knowing what to say. What I wanted to talk to her about was 'us' – what exactly was the status between us?
"Kate, I want to ask you something."
"Yes?"
"I'm wondering; are we in a relationship? You know, like girlfriend and boyfriend, lovers?"
I heard her breathing on the other end of the line. For a moment she didn't say anything.
"Well," she said, "if you're asking have I been seeing anyone else apart from you, the answer is no – unlike you, of course..."
"But Kate..."
"Hey," she cut back in, "it's OK. I don't own you. It's none of my business which of my students, or anyone else for that matter, that you have sex with. I don't have a problem with it. If you're asking, am I in love with you, well, yeah, I like you, I like you a lot, I think you're an interesting and sexy guy, and I love it that you let me fuck you like you did the other night – no other guy has ever let me do that. And I love your cock, too. But do I love you? I don't know. I think it's too early to know. David, where are you going with this – are you trying to tell me that you've fallen in love with me?"
Jesus she can be blunt. I felt embarrassed, not quite knowing what to say over the phone – because, really, I wasn't sure how I felt. She spoke again before I could respond.
"Hey, David, come on. Don't be such a girl. We've only known each other a little while and it's been a pretty wild adventure so far, don't you think? I know you like doing 'things' with me; face it - you love it, and so do I. So let's not let talk of love and relationships get in the way of it just yet. Remember, I told you from the start that I wasn't looking for a relationship. OK?"
"Yeah, OK. That's fine. I just wanted to clarify a few things."
But I was feeling deflated inside now. Maybe I really am in love with her? Or maybe I just feel beaten because she now thinks I'm in love with her. Jesus, why does it always have to be so God damned complicated with this chick?
"David, are you doing anything on Friday night?"
"Um, not really. What do you have in mind?"
"Well, I have a proposition. How would you like it if you spent an evening in the company of a group of women worshiping your body?"
"Er, that sounds good in theory, but what are you exactly talking about here?" I said. It did sound good, but there had to be a catch. There was always a catch with Kate.
"I'm having a CFNM party for a group of friends of mine at my place next Friday night. I'd love it if you'd be the male."
I had no idea what she the hell was talking about.
"CF-what? I can be 'the male'? Kate, I don't understand."
"CFNM – Clothed-Female-Nude-Male. Haven't you heard of it? OK, it's a party where all the women are clothed, and all the men, or man in this case – you - are naked, or basically naked."
"Really?"
"Yes. It's a particular turn on of mine - and quite a few others, too, so it seems. I met a bunch of like-minded women on an internet forum and we've been hosting CFNM nights every four or five months over the past year or so at each other's houses. Now it's my turn to host the party."
CFNM? I'd never heard of such a thing. It sounded very weird. But then, what wasn't weird with this chick?
"So, what do you say?"
"Kate, I don't know. I mean, what, do I just walk around nude all night? What, is it an orgy or something? I just don't get it."
"Jeez! As I've tried to explain, it's a particular sexual fantasy that some women have, and this is simply a means of indulging that fantasy. David, can't you accept that women can have unconventional fantasies as well as men? I mean, look at you - you've got no problem with Clothed-Male-Nude-Female with that photography business of yours, so where's your problem with women doing the basically the same thing."
"Photographing me?"
"No, not photographing you!" she said, exasperation clearly evident in her tone. "Unless you want to be photographed. OK, you don't seem to be getting it, so let me explain it again. It's a party. The women are all clothed. You will be wearing sexy underwear and nothing else. At some point you may end up naked, if the guests decide that you should be naked. You will be the only man there. You will also be the waiter, politely and obediently serving us drinks and food and making everyone feel comfortable. The women will admire your sexy body as you serve them, and they may even touch you, fondle you, if they wish. That's the whole point – the male is naked, vulnerable, powerless, nothing more than a sex object, and servant to the party guests."
I was beginning to get the concept now. I didn't like the sound of it. It sounded humiliating. Naked in front of a group of leering women I didn't even know – or worse, some that I did know?
"Kate, I don't know about this."
"Oh come on. You might surprise yourself – you might even enjoy it. Be a devil, come out of your shell. Don't be such a stuck up prude. Haven't you ever dreamed of a room full of women lusting after your body? You'd be like some kind of super stud."
"Well, maybe, but look, I can't do that."
"David, please. I would love you to do this for me. Please?"
Silence filled the phone line as I sat there seemingly unable to say no to her, but certainly unwilling to say yes.
"David," she then said softly, "if you do this, I'll let you fuck me. You can stick that big hard cock of yours inside me and fuck me hard. How about that?"
How about that? How about the reaction in my pants. The thought of ravishing that sweet body of hers was all I wanted.
"OK. I'll do it."
"Great!" she said with an excited little squeal. "Fantastic! Right, party starts at 7, so I need you to be here by 6.30. That OK?"
"Yeah, fine. But what should I wear?"
"Don't worry about that. I'll take care of your waiter's 'uniform'. Ooh, thank you David, it's going to be so much fun!"
Well, at least she seems happy about it, I thought to myself, wondering what the hell I'd got myself into. It just seemed to be one surprise after another with her, but overall, I had to admit as I thought about it all over the next few days, that she was right: that I was enjoying the ride. In the meantime I had other fish to fry, so to speak, another photoshoot. A student of Kate's, in fact: Jodi. What a strange deal this all was turning out to be. Here I was, taking photos of young girls, while also being in a relationship, or whatever it was, with their professor – and discussing the fact that I was taking revealing pics of them with her. What a world...
Jodi hadn't looked like all that much in the photo that she sent, but there was definitely something artistically appealing in her countenance. I tried to remind myself of the artistic integrity to all this, but frankly the sexuality of it all seemed always to come to the fore. The experiences with Sarah, Veronica, and especially Kate, showed me that there was always likely to be a sexual component to this, and not necessarily simply from my side. Were I of the right mind I might try to analyze what was going on – I mean, what the hell was that Veronica chick on about? But really, I had too much going on, too much to think about with Kate, and also the upcoming 'CFNM' party that I had agreed to 'star' in.
I sat there contemplating all this when the door bell rang. It was Jodi. I greeted her at the door and showed her inside. She was quite a looker in person; short, but slim, with short dark hair and dark eyes, if drably dressed. She looked about as old as Sarah. Man, that Sarah was so hot! I wondered whether they knew each other. Jodi was wearing loose fitting wearing jeans with an old scruffy light blue t-shirt, at least one size too big. Her breasts weren't large, but under her clothes they looked nice and firm. Overall she had a very appealing figure, an unpolished gem under those depressingly awful clothes she wore.
"I've never done this before," she said softly. "You'll have to tell me what to do."
"OK, we can start with some underwear shots. Are you OK with that?"
"Yeah," she said. It struck me how quiet her voice was. Quiet as a church mouse, as Kate had put it, in fact. Sheepishly she peeled off her t-shirt, kicked off her runners and unbuttoned her jeans. I pretended not to watch as she got undressed, because clearly she was very shy about this, but I couldn't help steal the odd glance. Under her clothing she was wearing a dark blue one-piece swimming costume, which I thought was a bit odd, but looking at her I thought it might work nicely backlit. Yes, she did have a great figure. Not athletic like Sarah, but very sexy nonetheless.