Tuesday was the first day of classes. I had only three, but heeding Gloria's warning, I scribbled like mad. After each class I reread my notes and filled in information I'd missed the first time through. I hoped that the habits I'd learned that won me top honors in high school would work for me here, too.
I sat next to Gloria in English Lit, but there wasn't time to say more than hello. Even so, I was always conscious of her presence. As the room grew warm, I basked in the aroma of her body, now unmasked by artificial perfumes. Her scent was different than RoseAnn's, but nonetheless arousing. I wanted to have coffee with her afterward, but she had to rush off to another class.
Though it was only two-thirty, I was done for the day, and walked back to the apartment. Sitting at my brand-new desk, I set up folders in the file cabinet, one for each class, and wrote down the upcoming assignments in the desk calendar. With the preliminaries done, I began a reading assignment for English.
At four-thirty, I began preparing a chicken casserole, working from one of RoseAnn's cookbooks. I had it in the oven and the timer set when the phone rang.
"I'm leaving work now," she said. That was the entire message; the phone clicked. I quickly ran around the apartment, straightening the bedcovers, washing the dishes I'd used to prepare the casserole, and setting the table. I had her glass of wine poured and my clothes stripped off when the garage door mechanism rumbled under the floor.
She enjoyed the casserole, and she also enjoyed straddling my face afterward, before sending me to do the dishes. For my own part, I preferred the aftertaste of RoseAnn to that of the casserole, and I told her so. It drew a wide smile.
I put on a pair of briefs, with her permission, to avoid distraction while finishing my assignments. It was nine o'clock when I put the last of the work away and joined her in front of the TV. She motioned for me to remove my briefs and sit on the floor with my back against the sofa, the more conveniently to rub her feet.
After a time, my attention drifted from my task.
"Barry, pay attention!"
"I'm sorry, I got to watching the TV."
"Then turn away. Kneel facing me and pay attention to my feet."
Television programs sound different when you can only hear the sound. Laugh tracks sound as phony as they are, and much of the dialog is wooden and artificial, as if written by robots. But as minutes ticked past, I forgot the TV and focused totally on the exquisite beauty before me. My cock remained erect throughout, so she couldn't resist teasing it with her toes.
At ten o'clock, she led me to the bedroom and arranged herself on the easy chair. She rested her heels in the small of my back and ordered me to explore her pussy with just the tip of my tongue until she was ready to climax. I wandered over the crease at the top of her thigh, and the hairy outer lips, and the delicate inner lips, and the bottomless vortex of her vagina for at least a half-hour before she pulled me up to her clitoris and had me take her over the top with the flat of my tongue.
While she drifted off to sleep, she had me kneel at the foot of the bed, where I resumed rubbing her feet, using a few drops of baby oil as a lubricant. Even after she was clearly asleep, I continued to rub her for another fifteen minutes. It felt good to be fully erect and serving her, even as she slept. My cock was still at the alert and my balls ached, but there wasn't the overwhelming need to enter her, or even to come, as there'd been last week.
As I slipped into bed, I realized that I'd lived with RoseAnn exactly one week. Until now, I'd assumed she'd taken possession of my spirit and transformed me into a different person, with different needs--her besotted lover, her slave, her servant.
On reflection, I saw that she hadn't changed me at all. She'd found needs in me that had been there all along, and only needed the opportunity to reveal themselves.
* * *
The week drifted past, falling into a routine, for that is how we spend the majority of our lives. I prepared breakfast for RoseAnn each morning, attended my lectures, spent a morning and an afternoon in labs, worked on assignments, and came home to tidy the apartment and fix dinner for us. She taught me to prepare her clothes for morning, brushing off lint and steaming out creases. At her whim throughout the evening, I'd bring her to orgasm, at least once, more often twice. Afterward, she stretched and purred with contentment, and teased me with her tongue and fingertips until I begged for relief. Finally, satisfied with my agony and frustration, she smiled and giggled and turned over to sleep.
I met Gloria for coffee or lunch at least once each day. On Friday, I found her sitting with a broad-shouldered man with hairy arms and an oily complexion. He seemed a little older than me. I guessed he might be a junior or senior.
"Mind if I join you?" I said.
"We're talking business," said the man.
Gloria said, "It's all right, Mike. Barry's a member." She looked up at me, and said, "It's Biochemistry Club business. You can listen in if you want. Learn how we do things. That's okay, isn't it?"
Mike grunted and shook hands, nearly crushing my fingers. "Mike Worthington," he said. "Pleasetameecha." I told him my name.
The two of them were poring over the membership list, which had been neatly typed up, and a penciled spreadsheet marked '1983-84 Budget'. They talked of things I knew nothing about while I ate quietly.
