My name is Sheila, Mark's ex-wife although Mark never introduced himself during the story he wrote. Mark and I did keep in touch after the divorce, and he also sent me birthday cards and Christmas cards. Mark also sent me a draft copy of the story he wrote. I agreed to the story as long as I got the last word, and this is my side.
Except for some typos and similar edits, I did not make any changes to Mark's story. Most of what Mike has written did happen. My biggest comment would be the timeframe. Mark makes it seem like I went from boring housewife to a raving slut in a handful of weeks. In actuality, the events he described took place over nearly a year as the waves of Covid overtook the country. There are some details in Mike's story that I remember differently, and I don't remember that they took place in the same sequences as he described. For example, did I initiate sex on a Tuesday night and then the next night? I doubt it. And then the bit about dusting the shelves in his office the following day. Again, I doubt the timeframe, but I did dust the shelves in his office as he described, and I did initiate sex much more often. My guess is that those events occurred over several weeks and not several days.
Mike is also accurate when he said I did not want to share my past sexual experiences. I did not, because Mike would have seen me as one of those girls that you do not take home to mother as he described his previous girlfriends. We started dating well after college and we were in our thirties by the time we got married so we both had a lot of time for sexual experiences.
What I always wanted was the classic suburban life with two kids and two cars. That is exactly what I was looking for when I met Mike. He is a truly amazing guy and I fell in love with him instantly.
My sexual experiences began before college. I dated and had sex with a few boys my age, but they always left me wanting. When they do sexual education in school, I wish they would teach the boys how to please a woman. Maybe that is why I found myself in several lesbian relationships when I was in college. I always found some women attractive, but I found men more attractive. The woman I met were so much better at satisfying my sexual needs. That is until I met Professor Jones.
I never had Professor Jones in any of my classes in college but one of his friends taught my first-year English class. One morning, my instructor told the class that his friend had been in a serious car accident and needed someone to walk his dog several times a day. We always had dogs growing up and I missed them while I was at the university. And the job paid well. So, I volunteered and three times a day I would go to Professor Jones' house on campus and walk his dog. I was the only person the dog saw while Jones was in the hospital, and he did not like it when I left. So, I spent a lot of time in his house with the dog. I was not snooping, but I did go through the picture of Jones' and his wife. There was also a photo album of them on the coffee table full of pictures of the happy couple trough out the years. I also found a copy of her obituary when she died from cancer a couple of years earlier.
Jones eventually came back to his house although he still had casts on his left leg and arm and his right wrist. Nurses' aides came to his house several times each day to take care of him, so I still only had to tend to the dog who was now madly in love with me. Jones was lonely in that house by himself, so I ended up chatting with him for hours. He was a remarkably interesting man, travelled the world and had worked for several companies. Jones helped me on some school projects I was working on and gave the inside scoop on what I should study for midterms and finals. He was brilliant in that way that helps other people understand the hard stuff.
He also drank a lot. Not during the week, but he would get tanked on the weekends. I would come in on a Saturday or Sunday and the nurses' aides would warn me to "keep my distance" because he would become very touchy feely when he drank. Usually, I did not have the need to get close to him unless he needed help with something, typically more ice for his drink. On more than one of those occasions his hand would find my ass. I did not get angry, and as the nurse's aides would do, I simply removed his hand from my bottom and placed it on his lap. On one of those occasions, he pulled down the front of my blouse and had a good look at my breasts. I let him look for a few minutes and then removed his hand.
I got there late one Sunday evening to walk the dog, long after the aides had gone. Jones was in the living room watching a porn movie on his TV, drunk off his ass and trying to masturbate with casts cover most of his left and right hands. He saw me come in and I expected him to cover up or turn off the movie. Instead, he offered me two hundred dollars to help him out.
Now I should have been insulted but he was obviously drunk. He was also very attractive, a few years older than my father but in great shape and a full head of greying hair. Distinguished looking would be the right words. And two hundred dollars was a hell of a lot of money for a college girl. After a few seconds of thought, I knelt by his wheelchair and started stroking his cock.
After a few strokes, he said, "My god princess, you don't know how good that feels."
Being called princess by a man older than my father sent me into a sexual high, I've never felt that sexy before. I'll call it sexy but maybe it was slutty I was feeling. Either way, I was enjoying the feeling and I enjoyed the way his cock was growing in my hands. I have jerked off boys before, but this was so different, and I was on my knees before him and being paid. I have relived this moment thousands of times. It was my favorite "go to" memory when I wanted to come.
I asked him, "Am I making you feel good Professor Jones?"
"You are doing wonderful princess and please call me daddy."
"Okay daddy" as my pussy flooded my panties.
Soon Jones was coming. He gave me no warning and come was flying everywhere. Some hit my face and mouth, but most of it dribbled onto my hands and I did not know what to do with it.
"Lick your hands princess. I'll give you another two hundred to watch you eat my come little girl."
And I did, I looked him in the eye and licked his come off my hands and swallowed it, every drop.
"You made daddy very happy princess, go get my wallet please on my dresser."
He gave me $500 that evening and I ran home and pounded my pussy with my dildo and then had sex with my girlfriend. She kept asking me why I was so hot but I did not tell her.
I had to return the next morning for the dog again and I wasn't sure what to expect. The nurses' aide was leaving as I put the dog on the leash and headed out. She was chuckling about how hungover he was. He was sucking down coffee and apologizing if he said or did anything improper the day before. She laughed again and said she wasn't even there yesterday, but she didn't tell him that.
When I got back from walking the dog, Jones called me into the kitchen. He looked terribly embarrassed sitting there drinking his coffee.
He said, "I know I was drunk yesterday but that does not excuse my behavior. I have never been one to dally with coeds and my wife would be horrified if she knew that I did. Maybe I was just having a pity party with too much scotch, but I am not trying to make excuses, I just hope you understand that I am really not that kind of professor and can forgive me. I did not mean to imply that you were some kind of prostitute or whore."
I did not know what to say, maybe I should have been insulted but that thought never entered my mind. I still don't know why I wasn't.
I looked at Jones and said, "no apologies are necessary. I am not a prostitute, but it was kind of kinky in a way."
The following Friday evening he was drunk again, the empty bottle of scotch laying on the floor. He offered me $500 to suck him off and I did. He kept telling me that his princess was such a great cock sucker. He came in my mouth, and he wanted me to swallow every drop. After we were finished, I stopped at the campus club and let some boy take me back to his dorm room. The sex was so disappointing, but I felt kinky knowing he had his tongue in my mouth that had been filled with the professors come. Fortunately, my roommate/girlfriend was home, and her tongue and dildo satisfied my itch and again.