Well, my life is in shambles now. I had a loving wife whom I adored, and was in my final year of my master's studies. It all started with an assignment in my English class. Our professor was a very strange person. She had some weird sense of humor, and was always pushing us to write about things that made us very uncomfortable. Her idea I guess was to help us to push our own private boundaries.
The assignment in question had to be an erotic piece that dealt with some aspect of our lives, in the past or present. It could be written as a sci-fi, historical, or present day. It had to have some truth to it, and it had to have affected us in some deep way. She then gave us one month to complete it. This in itself was unusual for her, since she was always pushing us on short deadlines, saying, "In the real world, you don't get a long period of time to complete projects."
We were all surprised by this assignment, me more so than the others in my class. I had never read or wrote 'erotic' anything in my life. I actually used to read Penthouse and Playboy for the pictures. I had written some poetry for my then fiancé', and even something once in a while for her after we were married. I didn't want to go into my past for erotic stories, and especially didn't want to write about anything that had happened to me then.
It took me a full week to finally find something that I thought 'fit' the assignment. My wife, Kate, knew that something had been bothering me, and I finally told her part of the truth. I told her how we had to write an erotic story for our class, based on our knowledge. I should have, looking back, told her everything about the assignment. Maybe the things that happened would never have occurred, and I would still be in marital bliss.
Some of my classmates were very into this assignment, especially Gary and Ted. They were you typical jock-type guys, always grab-assing and flirting with the ladies. I tended to be more, well, moderate in my social and public outlook. I had a beautiful and loving wife at home, and I didn't need the attentions of other women. Hanging around with those two would have been something I wouldn't do in any circumstance. To be honest though, deep down, I wanted to 'be one of the guys'.
When I started to write my story down, I used a very personal memory of when I had been about thirteen years old. My father had owned an apartment building complex in the city. He had tenants that were for the most part college kids. Some of them were married, and most were single. As long as the rent was paid and trouble kept to a minimum, dad would leave them to their own devices. Usually they were busy studying and tired from working part-time jobs, to be too adventurous. It wasn't like that at all in the dorms down the street a ways though. There, the parties were notorious, even a geek teen like me had heard about some of the goings on at those parties.
Anyway, one afternoon, dad had me working in the building. My job was to sweep up the hallways, and dump the garbage cans on each level. I got paid a very small sum for this, but dad was a firm believer in hard work. This day, I swept up and was on the third floor finishing up when near the door of an apartment I heard many voices. The tenants in this apartment were always in my mind because they were one of the few married couples in the building. I had a crush on the girl. She was the embodiment of everything I looked for in a woman. She had long blonde hair, great figure, big chest, and to top it off, she talked to me like I was an adult. She was very nice, and was majoring in teaching.
I looked for her every chance I went to the building, hoping just to see her just once, just a glimpse. Ah, teenage angst. This day, the door was open, and I heard her moaning and begging. I figured that her husband was some lucky jerk to be able to 'have' her whenever he wanted. I thought that they were having some hot sex, so, being young and daring, I snuck up to the door and peeked in. What I saw, well, I was stunned. I had never thought that a married couple would do something like this, and I wasn't prepared for the sight that befell my eyes.
She was in the living room, naked, astride her husband. Behind them another naked man was pushing his cock into her butt. A third man was nude in front of her feeding her his large cock. There were three other men standing around naked also. I was stunned. My angel was nothing but a common whore, fucking all of those men. I couldn't believe that her husband was involved in this either. I watched them for about an hour, and then as she was coming down from a large orgasm, she looked right over at me, still standing in the hallway. Recognition loomed and I panicked and ran.
It had affected me greatly. It took days before I could even set foot in the building, let alone clean the third floor. Eventually, I had to go upstairs and clean the hallway. The tenants had complained so I worked up my nerve and was in a hurried frenzy, trying to get done before they came home from their classes. I couldn't face her at all. I had been embarrassed when she had caught me watching and I thought that she would think I was a pervert or worse yet, tell me father about what I had done.
I had just finished up when she came into the hall behind me. I couldn't run because she was in front of me blocking the way.
"We need to talk I think." "You saw us doing something that you shouldn't have seen, but since you have I think we need to talk about it."
I was embarrassed. I was probably red faced as could be. I stuttered out some inane thing, hoping that she would just let me go away.
"Jim, you are a handsome and intelligent young man. You saw me doing things with men that shocked you. I want to know if you told anyone about what you saw."
"Uh," I replied," I haven't said anything, HONEST. I am sorry that I was watching you, and I won't ever do that again." I was scared she was going to tell on me, and she was evidently afraid I had told dad. I just wanted to have this all go away.
"Jim, do you know what we were doing? Aren't you curious about why my husband and I were, well, having sex with those other guys?"
She had taken my hand in hers and was leading me into her apartment. I was deathly afraid of who or what would be waiting in there, and just wanted to leave. I had some very erotic dreams about her nakedness after that night, but the concept of her sharing herself like that was too much for my thirteen-year old brain to accept.
We ended up talking for about two hours, and when I left that day I knew that I wasn't in trouble, nor was she. We got along after that, but never with the same feeling that I had had for her before!
So I had been writing about that, but because of my nature, I had the husband tied up and the men were in the process of 'taking' her. I had never been able to accept that she had wanted to do those guys, and I had, since being married, never dreamed of why her husband would have wanted her to have sex with those guys. I guess that in writing the story down, I still wanted to place her up in my imagination as my first love, taken against her will.
I had the rough draft done, then the professor made us hand them in. She then redistributed them to the class in mixed fashion! Someone else was going to be reading my rough draft. It turned out that it couldn't have been a worse person. Gary the 'jock' got my story. I was mortified. It had happened that the lady in my story, and my wife had the same first name. I knew that I should have changed the names in the story, but I just couldn't bring myself to do that to 'my first love'. Bonehead mistake.
