Coeds

Coeds (Part 3)

Kathryn M. Burke

Just after Thanksgiving, after Melanie had returned from a short visit to her family home, she asked Della to have a little

tête-à-tête

while Joseph was out of the house.

"What is it, dear?" Della said. Then, with sudden concern: "You're happy here, aren't you?" What she would do about her husband's importunate appetite without the help of this sweet young thing, she didn't wish to contemplate.

"Oh, yes, wondrously happy!" Melanie burbled.

"That's a relief."

"It's just that—I've met a guy."

"You mean a fellow undergraduate."

"Yes."

"And you like him?"

"Yes."

Della got right to the point. "Have you slept with him?"

Melanie blushed immediately. "No."

"But you want to."

"I guess so. He's awfully sweet."

"Well, I say, go ahead! You're certainly not going to spend the rest of your life tending to my husband!"

"I suppose not. But—but that's not what I wanted to say."

"Oh? Then what is it?"

"Well, you see, he—um, he likes you."

"

Me?

How do I come into this?"

"I'm just telling you what he said."

"How does he even know me?"

"He took a class with you last year. He's a senior, like me."

"And what did he say exactly? About me, I mean."

Melanie's blush got deeper. "Oh, you know how guys are. They express themselves pretty crudely sometime."

"What did he say?" Della said insistently.

Melanie sighed. "Well, if you must know, he said, 'Gee, I'd really like to poke that lady professor.'"

Now it was Della's face that got hot. She didn't know whether to be amused or outraged. "He said that?"

"Yeah."

"He has fantasies about bedding down lady professors?"

"Just you, I think."

"That's very flattering."

"I'm sure he doesn't actually expect it to happen."

Della paused a long time before saying, "Well, maybe it might."

Melanie's jaw dropped. "You—you want him?"

"I didn't say that. But the idea intrigues me."

"But—but I thought you were, um . . ."

"You thought I don't like sex? I spread my legs for my husband often enough—maybe not as often as he wishes, but I do it. It's just that I don't care to be manhandled by a guy."

"Joseph doesn't manhandle me!"

"I think he regards you as something like a daughter."

"A daughter! That's horrible!"

"I didn't mean it like that. It's because you were a virgin when he first, um, had you. I gather he's a lot gentler with you than he is with me."

"Maybe . . . but he pounds me sometime."

"Sure, but he pounds me

all

the time. But that's beside the point. If you really feel that strongly about this guy, you should by all means go to bed with him. Maybe he's the one for you. After that—well, we'll see what happens. What's his name, anyway?"

"Matt. Matt Bennett."

"Well, you pursue this relationship with Matt."

"What about Joseph?"

"Don't worry about him. He has no earthly right to be jealous. Anyway, maybe we can all work something out."

And with that, Melanie walked away with a lot to think about.

Sure enough, she did begin sleeping with Matt—in the afternoons, when they had no classes. She felt it would have been just a bit indelicate to come home to the professors' house, sit down to dinner with them, and then say, "Okay, I have to leave now to be with my lover!" Even if that happened, what if Joseph wanted more action when she came back? Melanie didn't think she'd be quite up for that.

Joseph took her involvement with Matt with equanimity. As long as she remained available to him, that's all he cared about. He himself knew that his relationship with Melanie was not likely to be permanent—better enjoy it while he could!

But this whole business of Matt being attracted to his wife tickled Joseph more than he could say. He kept urging Melanie to bring her new beau over to the house to meet the focus of the guy's fantasies—and finally Melanie did one Friday evening.

Matt Bennett proved to be a tall, lanky fellow with a quick smile and an honest face, topped with an unruly mass of dark hair. When he caught sight of Della, his eyes widened and he stalked over to her, saying, "Hey."

"Hey," she said back with some sarcasm.

Then, unexpectedly, he gave her a bear hug that came close to collapsing her lungs. She expelled a gurgling cough as she unconsciously threw her arms around his neck (women instinctively do that when hugged, don't they?)—but when Matt lowered one of his hands to fasten it on Della's bottom, she revived and wriggled out of his grasp, saying sharply, "None of that, now!"

Matt, crestfallen, muttered, "Sorry."

Melanie and Joseph were watching these antics from across the living room. He lowered his head and whispered to his lover, "Does he know about us?"

"Yes."

"He does? And he doesn't mind?"

"I guess not. I think he figures that having part of me is better than not having me at all."

"Good thinking." Then, after a pause: "I have a plan—let's see how it works."

Matt had been invited over for dinner, and the two women prepared the meal as the men chatted idly in the living room. The dinner was fabulous, and everyone lounged around afterwards talking on general subjects. Then, around 9 p.m., Joseph said casually:

"I think Melanie and I are going to be otherwise occupied for the rest of the evening. Why don't you two amuse yourselves as you see fit?"

Della, not entirely surprised (or particularly disturbed) at this turn of events, watched the pair ascend the stairs. Turning to the young man who sat dumbfounded on the couch, she said, "Come on, guy. We'll find something to fill up our time."

And she led up up the stairs to the master bedroom.

The next morning Joseph came down early and found his wife sitting in the kitchen sipping coffee. She looked more than usually disheveled: her hair seemed as if it had been through a hurricane, and the robe she had on was clearly covering her naked body instead of the nightgown she usually wore under it.

Joseph got a cup of coffee for himself and, with an amiable smile, said, "So—how was it?"

"How was what?" Della said, deliberately playing dumb.

"How was Matt?"

"Oh, Matt. Well, he was quite—vigorous."

"Is that right?" Joseph seemed delighted.

"Yeah. He really put me through the ringer."

"So this time it wasn't 'one and done' with you?"

"Let's just say he didn't care for that idea."

"You gonna tell me what exactly you did?"

"Do you really want the full details?"

"You bet I do!"

"They won't bother you? You won't feel angry at your rival?"

"Not a bit!"

"Okay, well, here goes." She took a deep breath. "I have to say that Matt seemed like a kid in a candy store. By the time we'd gotten to the bedroom and I'd discreetly closed the door, he was pawing at my clothes as if he wanted to rip them off me. I put a hand in front of his face and said, 'Hold your horses, young man!' and carefully undressed myself, with my back turned to him. When I turned around, he was already naked—and his eyes (if I do say so myself) goggled when he saw me. How flattering!

"He already had a big erection. His cock is just about your size, but not quite so thick. He just stood there, nodding his head down at his member: his objective was quite clear. Even though I was a professor and he was a lowly undergraduate, he expected me to fall to my knees and suck his cock. I gave him a sour look—but men are so demanding, aren't they?

"So I did what he wanted. Of course, this was only foreplay, and I had a reasonably nice time rolling that cock around in my mouth—and I didn't neglect to tickle his balls with my hand and give his bottom a few good squeezes. I do like a good, muscular male butt! He could only take a few moments of that. Then he almost picked me up and threw me on the bed. I didn't like that very much: was he going to 'ravish' me while I, like some delicate Victorian maiden, lay back, stared at the ceiling, and said, 'Oh, woe is me'?

"As I landed somewhat heavily on my back, my legs splayed, I thought he'd just plunge right into me. But he surprised me. Instead of leaping on top of me, he buried his head in my crotch and began licking me with abandon. Actually, he was quite skilled at it: he started slow and gentle, parting my labia with his fingers as if they were little iris petals, licking up the juices that were flowing there, and then started to nuzzle my clitoris. Sometimes he stuck his tongue as far into my vagina as he could; and all the while he was clutching my bottom as if it was a ripe melon.

"It was clear he wanted to make me come—and, boy, did he ever! I couldn't believe how quickly he induced a climax in me: it was that magic tongue of his. I stared down at him the whole time my orgasm was pouring over me, in utter disbelief that this was happening so fast. He was skilled at drawing out my climax for minute after minute, until I was so exhausted that I just collapsed, my tongue lolling out of my mouth.

"He was considerate in giving me a few moments to recover before going in me. But then he literally climbed up my body and, giving me a tender look as he rested on top of me, slipped in without needing his hand to guide his cock to the orifice in question. And again he started slowly, working his way into a more and more vigorous rhythm while I just gaped up at him. I totally felt like putty in his hands. He stroked my cheek, squeezed my breasts and back and bottom with his hands, rained kisses down on my face and neck and shoulders—and then he exploded with an enormous emission that betrayed his own pent-up emotions. He just kept on coming and coming and coming—I felt

filled

with his seed, as if my womb would overflow with it.

"We rested a bit after that—but I could have predicted that he would get hard again soon. After all, he's all of twenty-one years old; and here he was, fucking an older woman whom he'd first met only a few hours before! He gave me a shy look and said: 'Can I go into your bottom?'"

"He said that?" Joseph said indignantly. "The nerve of him!"

"Yes, well," Della said with some embarrassment. "I was going to tell him where to get off—but then, as if in a dream, I heard myself saying, 'Okay.'"

"Okay! But—but you never let me—"

"I know, dear. Just let me explain. I guess I was just gratified that this exceptionally handsome and ardent young man could take such an interest in me. I mean, most men of his age wouldn't give a second glance to a woman like me."

"Maybe," Joseph said nastily, "he has fantasies of going to bed with his mother."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that. Anyway, the guy was pretty quick on the uptake. He'd noticed a little tube of hand lotion on the nightstand, and he poured some out on his fingers and lubed me up pretty well. He had me lie flat on my stomach—I think you've told me that's how you do it with Melanie."

"That's right."

"So I positioned myself that way. His entry into me was exquisitely tender and slow—but it still hurt quite a bit. But, if I may say so, I think the fact that his cock is a bit slimmer than yours helped me. I actually think it's

thickness

rather than

length

that causes most of the pain for the recipient of anal sex. Anyway, once he was in, it didn't hurt all that much—it was just a little uncomfortable. He started pumping me, bringing his hands around my chest to surround my breasts—just the way a man would hold a goblet while drinking brandy. You know the goblet was designed with a woman's breast in mind."

"Yes, I know that."

"Anyway, it was fine. I do have to say I've never felt so helpless in all my life—but somehow I didn't mind that. Don't tell any of my feminist friends! At some point he slipped a hand down to my sex and began fondling it: I knew he was trying to bring me off in time with his own climax. He didn't quite manage it. He came first—but that somehow triggered my own orgasm, and we were thrashing and quivering and writhing as if in the midst of an earthquake.

"He pulled out, and I made him wash his cock at once. There was no way I was going to touch that thing after it had been back there! Then we cuddled a bit more and fell asleep."

"Quite an experience," Joseph said, quite envious at how Matt had serviced his wife.

"It was—but I'm sure you had a nice time with Melanie."

"I sure did."

"Speaking of which, where

are

they?" Della said. "Don't they want to come down for breakfast?"

Joseph, who was hungry, had already begun preparing a bountiful meal of eggs, sausage links, roasted potatoes, and toast. It was the one meal he could cook, and he enjoyed whipping it up on weekends.

At last the young people came down to the kitchen. They also looked a bit tousled.

Della could immediately tell what happened. Eyeing them sharply, she said, "Did you two—?"

Matt grinned sheepishly. "Yeah."

"Right now? Didn't you get enough from me last night?"

"You were fabulous, ma'am! But you see, a lot of mornings I wake up—" He glanced down quickly at his groin.

"With a hard-on?"

"Yeah. So I got up and wandered over to Melanie's room. Joseph wasn't there, so we decided . . ."

"A quickie, you mean?"

"It wasn't so quick," Melanie interposed with her characteristic blush. "We both got off."

"Good for you, Matt!" Joseph cried over his shoulder from the stove. "Always take care to satisfy your lady, whoever she may be."

*

Matt moved in soon thereafter, and there were lots of interesting pairings for the rest of the school year. Both women found double penetration stimulating, and the two women even found some satisfaction—if only the satisfaction of doing something vaguely naughty—in eating each other out while the men poked them in various ways.

But as the school year came to the end and Melanie and Matt were about to graduate, Della sat down with the young woman for a heart-to-heart.

"You're going to marry Matt, aren't you?" she said.

"Yes," Melanie said—blushing as always.

"That's wonderful. You make a great couple."

"Nothing has to change, though!"

"Well, I think it does. This has been great, but I think you two need to pursue your own lives without us old fogies holding you back."

"You're not old fogies!"

"Maybe not, but you know what I mean. Anyway, I think Joseph and I are considering an alternative arrangement. You see, there's a friend of ours—Margery Compton—who may want to, um, join us. She's in her early forties and has been divorced for some years. I think she's pretty lonely, and she seems to have quite a crush on Joseph. So I think it might work for her to join us for a

ménage à trois

while you and Matt go off and do your own thing."

"It's really been wonderful here."

"It certainly has—but all good things must come to an end. Best of luck to you—and maybe you'll find a young couple to shack up with someday!"