A College Professors Discovery Ch 02

(A note of appreciation to the readers who have voted for the first installment of this story in the contest underway here at Literotica until Nov. 2, 2010. Your votes in the Fetish category under "Awards & Contests" on the Bulletin Board are much appreciated—I am delighted you have found Dr. Sherrie Mathison's journey on her way toward completing her anthropological research and her book an engaging read.

(The details of Dr. Mathison's second tutoring session are related below. The inventive Miss Victoria orchestrates several surprises during her second visit, among them prompts to the male she has brought for Sherrie's practice session to reveal the reasons he enjoys surrendering to a woman's thrusts.)

***

Dr. Sherrie Mathison gazed distractedly out the plane window at an expanse of puffy whiteness which was the cloud cover over some stretch of ocean between her comfy suburban townhome in North America and the remote piece of New Zealand where she would spend the next four months.

Only three times did I do it, and all in the last two weeks, she thought, focusing on her reflection in the porthole-sized window.

Only three times have I—god help me—fucked a man in the ass with a strapon dildo, Sherrie mused, finally allowing herself to ruminate about the crazy solution she had devised to ensure the successful conclusion she needed to finish her book about the New Zealand tribe. Will the tribe's women accept me as practiced enough, as worthy, to take me into their confidence after I slip the bulb end of the dildo inside my vagina, strap it into place lube it up, and then . . .

Sherrie squeezed her thighs together.

This was exactly why she had diverted her attention from thinking about what she'd done in the last two weeks, what she was going to do in New Zealand in the very near future—hardened nipples, a moist pussy, and a telltale flush on her throat were all signs that she was aroused. Trapped with hundreds of strangers in a metal tube miles above the ocean was no place to endure the intense bout of horniness that Sherrie was about to surrender herself to.

But it was just too delicious not to think about . . .

Andrew. Miss Victoria's tutelage. Mental visions of what she had seen (damn! but he had a great ass!) and what she had done during that first, mind-blowing session when Sherrie had discovered the erotic delights of sliding a strapon dildo up a guy's ass and then settling into a rhythm as she learned to fuck a man—REALLY fuck a man—and enjoy the incredible sensations of the act.

Abandoning any pretense now about avoiding the memories, Sherrie reached up to position the air vent and turn it on.

Maybe the focused breeze would disperse any potential aroma of her arousal.

Oh, shit—how hot and sexy Andrew looked when she saw him naked except for his blindfold. What a lovely cock! And then watching that gorgeous pink shaft rise and stiffen as Sherrie's tutor kissed him, the taste and smell of the woman's own pussy on her lips as she pressed them against his.

(Even the memory of what Miss Victoria had done a few minutes before she kissed the first man Sherrie was going to ass-fuck was arousing: telling Sherrie that she was going to give Andrew a reward for being a good toy for them that evening, her tutor extracted the bulb end of the dildo that she had pushed into her vagina while giving Sherrie instructions on how to insert the toy, drew it to her lips, and sucked off her juices. The memory of that visual, and knowing afterwards the reason why Miss Victoria did it, never failed to charge Sherrie's sexual batteries. Andrew's cock rose to a glorious, throbbing full erection with no stimulation other than the fragrant kiss from the "sensuous domme" whom he had been paying to screw him in the ass.

(Well, Sherrie thought, a smile coming to her face, it was probably a combination of the kiss and the anticipation of the evening's activities in Sherrie's living room that had stiffened his cock. No matter—whatever the reasons, seeing his naked cock rise and point toward the ceiling was fantastically arousing.)

But that first, incredible witness to a man's surrender! When Miss Victoria said, "Andrew, open up for the lady," and Sherrie felt the little indentation hollow out underneath the pad of her lubricated finger as she held it against his asshole . . .

Remembering how that had felt, the powerful signal of surrender that it sent, she got that little flutter in her tummy that always came with the anticipation of extreme arousal.

Why am I stuck on an airplane?

But then, positioning the tip of her shaft at that proffered opening and slowly—oh, so slowly—sliding it in, hearing the sound he made as he let her penetrate him . . .

Maybe the guy in the seat next to me—she checked; he seemed to be engrossed in the movie—won't notice if I kind of pouff up the blanket like this over my crotch so I can at least spread my thighs just a little in order to press my fingers against my clit through these slacks.

God! It had been so hot to fuck Andrew in the ass while he was bent over the arm of her sofa!

Sherrie remembered what it had felt like to grab his hips, to press herself against the backs of thighs when she bottomed out completely with the dildo inside his ass. She replayed the sensation in her muscle memory of the next action: reaching up to grab Andrew's shoulders and really begin screwing him. And then that amazing, fascinating feeling of squirming against him, nudging the shaft of the dildo across his prostate and the bulb in her pussy up against her G-spot.

His moans! What sexy, nasty, lovely, beautiful sounds! They were man-growls of lust mixed with punctuated groans triggered when he reacted in surprise to the occasional deep, intense shove that felt so divine as Sherrie drove her shaft inside him and sealed herself tightly against his flanks, pushing hard, feeling the incredible throb of mounting sexual intensity spread through her body.

It was such a rush that she couldn't wait to do it again with Miss Victoria's second "practice toy."

Trent.

The swimmer.

And for her second lesson, the videocamera.

Looking again out the window, Sherrie saw her reflection floating in front of the backdrop of brilliant whiteness. What have I been missing in my life? she mused. Romance? Yes. Sex? Yes. Romance AND sex, all with the same man? Yes.

Miss Victoria had instantly sensed Sherrie's shyness and sexual inexperience during her first visit. The woman's comments about Sherrie's inherent attractiveness, her ability to cultivate men's attentions if she only took more initiative to do so, to dress in more figure-flattering styles, to highlight her pretty facial features with make-up—they were nice to hear, nice to think about as maybe even being true.

Studying her reflection, Sherrie allowed herself the freedom of a thought that had been so foreign to her before Miss Victoria's suggestion: Well, maybe I do have a pretty face . . .

"Appropriately" shy (Sherrie thought) in a discipline where research involved fieldwork that meant it was often months between bouts in front of a mirror with mascara in hand, Sherrie realized now that she had retreated into her career, at least where matters of the heart were concerned.

Had she chosen anthropology precisely because it meant she would never have to unearth her self-doubts about her ability to attract a man, a lover, a husband?

She saw the wry smile form on her lips in the plane window's reflection. How ironic. Her career meant she worked inexhaustibly, pushing past all impediments, specifically to unearth details about other cultures' beliefs.

Now she realized that perhaps her choice of career had been predicated, at least in part, on the fact that anthropology allowed her to keep buried her own beliefs about herself.

Working in places where she probably wouldn't meet many eligible men meant she didn't have to confront her own self-doubts.

Her smile broadened when the next thought struck:

Was it just desserts that her career had led her to the activity of the last two weeks? Activity that had be undertaken in order to succeed in her research despite the fact that it meant she had to do what before she would not have even allowed herself to think about?

She had played with three handsome and naked men, toyed with their asses, cocks, balls, and done the most mind-blowing things to their proffered and willing assholes. She had completely abandoned herself to sexual pleasure and savored the orgasms that fucking these men created for her.

And in the process she had discovered that all three had lusted for what she had done, had squirmed in pleasure and arousal, crazy for her to continue doing it.

What SHE had done to THEM. She was pleasing them sexually. Intensely. They loved how she was making them feel.

But just as important was how much it had turned her on.

Sherrie knew before the first tutoring session that her bizarre solution to a vexing academic research problem was going to create the most intense sexual experience she had ever participated in (not difficult given her admittedly limited number of naked-flesh-on-naked-flesh couplings with men; still, the physical AND psychological aspects of what she was going to do were so powerfully erotic that even had she been with dozens of men before that first night of tutoring, the effect would have been the same). The first time she had witnessed the tribe's women screwing their naked men in the ass had caused her pussy to flood with juices, so arousing was the act. It was a given that actually doing such a thing herself was going to blow her mind.

Maybe I should trust my subconscious more often, Sherrie thought. It seems to be putting me in situations that demand I interact more with men when I and they are naked.

Turning her head from the window, Sherrie closed her eyes, reclined the seat, and allowed herself to relive the second encounter Miss Victoria had arranged for her to practice strapon man-fucking before she returned to the tribe to participate in the ceremony.

Yes, she had been better at man-fucking the second time. But was "better" good enough to gain the tribal women's trust to the degree that they would share the traditions and beliefs of their religion? Would she be a good enough man-fucker that the women would explain how the reverent yet exuberant ceremony in which they fucked their men in the ass to the point of climax for both participants had evolved in their culture's history?

***

"I will bring Trent around at 8 PM tonight," Miss Victoria had said on the phone four days after the first of the three encounters Sherrie had asked the woman to arrange as practice sessions so that Sherrie would be able to prove her mettle to the tribe's women as a practiced man-fucker. "Things will be as before: he has confirmed his sexual and physical health for me by providing the documents I require before any interactions with any of the men who engage my services, he will be blindfolded, and he will have no idea where he is or who is taking his truly adorable man-butt into her hands, spreading him open, and toying with every inch of him, including his very attractive and inviting asshole."

Miss Victoria was always blunt, but somehow classy in her presentations. Maybe it was her impeccable enunciation, her vocabulary. Whatever it was, the woman's phone conversations never failed to leave Sherrie in a state of arousal simply due to the topics that Miss Victoria broached with such practiced ease and comfort.

"You have spent some time examining the videos I suggested?" Miss Victoria asked.

"Yes," Sherrie answered. "They were certainly excellent tutorials."

Miss Victoria chuckled. "Good. I told you on my first visit that I took on my current—and temporary—profession only after losing a lover who adored opening himself to me. Our interactions were most similar to the clips I suggested. They were easy to find?"

"Just as you said. Those amateur strapon clips were easy to google."

"Good. We've already had the conversation about the dearth of good strapon man-fucking videos and how it seems so much of what exists is about domination and humiliation. Not my cup of tea, so I truly adore those particular amateur clips because they show a couple that is obviously practiced in the act, because both partners enjoy it immensely, and because the woman is very good at fucking her man in the ass. Did you take note of the way she moved when she fucked him? It should have been quite instructive to see the various positions in which he took her dildo inside his asshole?"

Sherrie moistened at even the mention of those video clips.

"Yes. I agree. Those clips show quite nicely how a woman can move to get the most pleasure for herself as she's giving her man pleasure at the same time. Both of them were clearly hot for what she was doing to him and how she was doing it."

"Excellent."

Sherrie could hear the smile of satisfaction in Miss Victoria's tone.

"Those undulating movements—those are the key," Miss Victoria said. "Inexperienced women keep their backs straight, moving their entire bodies back and forth to get the in-and-out movements when they stroke their dildos into the men's assholes. That is a dead giveaway that the woman has not fucked many men in the ass. In this regard, before I found the few good videos of women fucking men with strapons, the best role models in my own development of technique was watching my former lover when he so passionately screwed me in the ass as we videotaped our love-making."

Sherrie's breath caught in her throat when Miss Victoria shared that intimacy. The woman not only knew of the act as giver. She was also a practiced receiver.

How hot! How incredibly hot! What it must be like to be in that kind of relationship—a loving, trusting relationship in which gentleness mixed with pure eroticism would crescendo into mind-numbing climaxes for both parties, each of them knowing what it was like to stroke into the other's lubricated anus as a means to orgasm as well as opening to their partner's penetrations as a way of achieving climax.

"And practice. You've practiced as I've suggested?"

The dildo, harness, and lube Miss Victoria had brought the first night for the activities with Andrew were quickly joined by the device she recommended to Sherrie when she called later the evening of the first tutoring session. (Sherrie supposed Miss Victoria had thanked Andrew for being a good demonstration subject, collected her payment, and sent him on his way . . . Damn! What a way to make money!)

"Yes, I have. And I must thank you for the suggestion. As you advised, I located the male masturbator sleeve easily for sale on the internet, ordered it and paid for the overnight shipping, and then practiced with it as demonstrated by the young lady on that site which supposedly is about women in strapons showing men how to masturbate."

"Good, very good," Miss Victoria intoned. "Though the site is ostensibly set up for a different reason, the delightful young woman who positions the masturbation sleeve between the mattress and the box springs and then shows the viewer how to fuck that fake vagina by demonstrating the act with her strapon is actually quite good with her motions."

Sherrie had been fascinated by the short segment in which in the topless and attractive young woman, probably college-aged by the looks of her, had demonstrated for the camera how a man could stroke his stiff cock into a woman's wet vagina. However, she did so with those sexy undulations that Miss Victoria said identified a practiced strapon man-fucker.

It took no effort at all on Sherrie's part to imagine a naked male on all fours in front of the young woman, her hands grasping his hips as she slid her strapon cock into—not the masturbator wedged into the bed, but rather—the nude man's upturned, sexy ass.

The young lady's smile, her comments to the camera, the motions of her hips, the sway of her young breasts, the way she enjoyed herself in the process and had no reservations at all about sharing all this with the camera—all of it melted together to produce an enjoyable learning experience.

But a further surprise awaited Sherrie when she had navigated to the site where the masturbator was sold. Also offered for sale was a "two-play wedge," a mount for the creatively designed masturbator (the site prominently advertised the inventive means allowing a man to re-create as closely as possible the feeling of sinking his hard cock into a woman's pussy as the number one selling male sextoy in the world). There was a picture on the site of a man behind the wedge, his erect cock sinking into the masturbator positioned in just the right way in the mount, and the visual instantly convinced Sherrie that the price for both the masturbator and the mount was worth it.

But her tutor had not said anything about the mount.

Well, Miss Victoria's masturbator was at least over two years old if she had used it with the lover who had left her. Maybe the company hadn't offered the mount when Miss Victoria bought the toy, and having one already in her possession, maybe she hadn't visited the vendor's site in quite a while.

Maybe Sherrie would have the pleasure of showing Miss Victoria something! The tutee becomes the tutor—that would be nice, Sherrie thought.

Then came the sexyfun task of ordering the masturbator. It was a no-brainer to select the sleeve whose end simulated an anus, not the sleeves of a fake vagina or what was supposed to represent a woman's mouth.

More fun awaited her on the site as Sherrie scrolled through some videos showing the masturbator in use. She was quickly convinced that the toy and the wedge would be perfect as a means of practicing man-fucking when she viewed one of the videos showing a handsome couple demonstrating the toy, the woman holding it between her naked thighs as the man pounded his cock into it, then withdrew to slide inside the woman's vagina. Though the use of the toy was obviously contrived for the purpose of showing the vendor's product (Sherrie would not want him pulling his hard cock out of her pussy in order to stroke into a masturbator in the middle of a hot sexual coupling), when the short video got to the spot where the woman was on her hands and knees, holding the toy between her legs and pressed up against her crotch as the guy pumped into it, Sherrie could tell easily that it would, indeed, be a good way to learn how to use the dildo strapped to her crotch to fuck a man's ass—the guy in the video was stroking into the toy exactly as he would be fucking the woman in the ass if the purpose of the brief film had been to demonstrate butt-fucking instead of pumping into a fake pussy.

When her purchases arrived, it was not long before Sherrie was fucking the inventive masturbator in the same way she had fucked Andrew's asshole, only—she hoped—a bit more elegantly, more naturally, more fluidly with her motions as a result of viewing the video clips Miss Victoria had directed her to. It was very, very easy to abandon herself to the memory of Andrew's muscled, nude flanks in front of her as he bent over the arm of her sofa, ass upthrust and offered for her pleasure, his stiff cock hanging between his spread legs and bobbing in front of his balls as they swayed with his motions in preparation for the screwing she was going to give him. Sherrie had multiple orgasms practicing the motions of stroking the shaft of her dildo into the Fleshlight anchored into the wedge as it sat on her coffee table. (She quickly realized that the height of that arrangement was perfect.)

It HAD been good practice, Sherrie thought.

That's why she had done it several times.

Well, that and the orgasms that these practice sessions inevitably produced.

"I hope I'm earning my pay, Dr. Mathison, as a tutor to help you in your very important academic research. The videos and the male masturbation toy should provide ample opportunity for practice until you have a real man to play with."