College girl seduced by Professor . . .

[higherlevel4u]

Hi everyone - I've done a little lecturing during my career in graphics at my local uni and experienced a little bit of flirting by female students (I'm a guy, by the way). One girl in particular used to give me the distinct impression, nothing too overt, mind, that she was attracted to me and could be willing, if encouraged to take it further. I never did take it any further, but have often wondered what course the ensuing liaison would have taken.

She was not an obvious, brazen flirt, all low-cut tops and tits in your face, she was more a sit at the back, quiet, academic type, hard working, eager to please, not particularly confident, and I could see a rise in her self-esteem when praised for any excellent work she had produced.

Would any female out there in Lit Land be willing to take on the role of my young wall-flower?

If anyone is interested in participating, let me know and we can sort out character descriptions in more depth before setting off.

Goodbye for now . . .

 

[Star of Penumbra]

This belongs here.

 

[PhoenixPrime01]

Once again, the link led to where it had been posted.



Good luck higherlevel. Bet you'll find a 'student' to take the role. *S
PP

 

[patford31769]

Patty

I am a student at a top-notch, prestigious
and very exclusive arts school. I am always in nerdy red Sally Jessy Raphael type glasses, bright-red hair piled
high in a bun atop my head, always coming to class in shapeless drab-grey sweatshirt and matching grey
sweatpants. Always my head buried in a book, shy, never looking anyone directly in the eye for fear of rejection.
But I have a flawless complexion, soft smooth skin, I'm just totally oblivious to how pretty I could be...

...Until, that is, one of the art professors (you) asks me to stay after class, to compliment me on my latest very
insightful paper about Renaissance art. I blush at the compliment, avert my eyes, and mumble that this paper
was on one of my favorite subjects, so it was a joy for me to write. You smile and tell me that you love
Renaissance art, too.

I tell you about how last summer I toured an art museum in Cologne, Germany. Room after room of dark, drab,
dreary medieval paintings: Christ in the Manger, Christ on the Cross. Christ in the manger, Christ on the
cross...ad infinitum. Then I entered the Renaissance room: suddenly, an EXPLOSION of paintings of happy
villagers dancing. Farm animals. Portraits of wealthy patrons of the art and poor peasants, too. Fishermen and
their boats. Landscapes of ponds, rivers, oceans, forests, grassy meadows, field of flowers. All sorts of
characters from Greek and biblical mythology. Experiments with bright bursting colors. It was as if the whole
universe of art had reinvented itself in a single instant!

"Sounds wonderful!" you declare. In fact, you tell me, you like to paint in that Reneaissance style yourself, to
relax after teaching and grading papers all day.

My face lights up, and I look up at you at last. I smile. Now hesitantly, I shyly admit that I dabble in painting
myself, and that it makes me feel good inside when I paint.

Now you ask me to have a cup of coffee with you in the college cafeteria. As we sip our coffe, you jot down
from memory a reading list of some great but obscure books on Renaissance art that you think I might enjoy.
I've already read one or two on the list, but most are unfamiliar to me.

You startle me when you ask if you can see one of my paintings. Almost crying, I tell you no, they are private, I
would be scared and embarassed to show them to ANYONE!

Desperately trying to change the subject, I ask you now, exactly what do YOU paint?

"Nudes, mostly!" you grin.

I feel myself turning 40 shades of red. "Oh," I sigh, "I wish I looked good enough to pose for a nude! And I wish I
had the COURAGE to pose!"

You lean close and gently grasp the frame of my glasses. "May I?" you ask, and I nod yes as you take my
glasses off of me.

You next reach for the pin holding my red hair in that high bun. "Do you mind?" you ask.

I have never let a man see me with my hair down before, but somehow I am already comfortable enough around
you to let you remove my hair pin. I shake my head and let my long flaming-red hair flow down past my
shoulders.

"Oh, Patty, you are STUNNINGLY beautiful!" you declare.

"Really?" I blush. "Do you HONESTLY think so?"

"If the rest of you is as beautiful as your face and your fiery red hair, I would be HONORED to have you pose
nude for me, ANY day!"

My smile dissolves instantly, and you fear you have crossed a line with me that you shouldn't have.

"I could...never...ummm..no, never...uhhh," I stammer. "I would NEVER pose...oh, just THINKING about it is
so...so..."

"Awkward?" you offer helpfully.

"Yes, yes, AWKWARD! I think we had better find something ELSE to talk about now, or I'm going to have to
leave right NOW!"

You gently pat my hand, and soothingly reassure me, "Making you uncomfortable like this is the LAST thing I
would ever want to do, Patty. You are my brightest student, and I was getting comfortable chatting with you,
and I apologize for making you uncomfortable."

"I am very comfortable chatting with you, too, professor..."

"Call me Dave," you interrupt.

"As I was saying, Dave, I like you and enjoy talking with you. I hope we can become friends."

With that, I get up, and give you a light peck on your cheek. You hand me a card with your unlisted number,
and tell me to call you any time, to discuss art or anything else that's on my mind. I smile, jot my number on the
back of your hand, and walk away.

About one in the morning, I slam my apartment door shut loudly and angrily. I am tired and sore and upset. I
practically rip off all my clothes in my anger. I stretch out nude on my bed, sitting up, sobbing, and call you at
the private number you gave me. I am crying uncontrollably.

"Oh Dave," I sob, "It was HORRIBLE! Just HORRIBLE! This afternoon I let this college football jerk--umm, I mean,
JOCK--no, no, I DO mean jerk--I let him talk me into a date tonight, against my better judgment. All he could
talk about the whole date was what sort of boobies I'm hiding from him under those formless grey sweatshirts I
always wear. I slapped his face hard and WALKED all the way home! I HATE men!"

"Even ME?" you ask.

"Oh, no, Dave," I whisper, calming down just a little, "I could NEVER hate you!"

We launch into a lengthy discussion of other dates from hell that we've each experienced, and I feel a little bit
better now, realizing that you and I have both experienced MUCH worse dates than the one I just returned from.
"If WE were dating," you whisper, "I would NEVER treat you like that, Patty!"

"I know, Dave, and I appreciate that," I sniffle. "That's why I felt you were the ONLY one I could call and talk to
about this." I start to think about the idea you just touched on, of me dating you, but I quickly dismiss it from
my mind, objecting about the age difference, the teacher-student dynamic... Still, as we talk, I can't stop
daydreaming about what it would be like to be dating a sweet, kind man like you--or more precisely, to actually
BE dating YOU! But I don't tell YOU any of what I'm thinking along those lines.

We then switch to our mutual favorite topic, Renaissance art. As we talk, I quietly rest my hand above my
crotch, taking comfort in the thought that I barely dare to think, much less to speak: "What if that were Dave's
gentle hand between my thighs, instead of mine?"

Next we talk about our respective childhoods, parents, siblings. We discover that we have similar tastes not only
in paintings, but in music and movies as well. We talk about current events, and the stupidity of various
politicians in other countries, and in our own.

I am surprised to see the first rays of morning sunshine streaming through my window, and I glance at my alarm
clock to see that it is already 6:30 AM, and we have been talking on the phone like old friends for 5-1/2 hours
now!

 

[PhoenixPrime01]

BG* I told you higherlevel and a verrrrrrry good one too I must add. *winking and smiling at Pat*

 

[patford31769]

Patty

After talking to Dave on the phone all night, I was surprised that he asked me to stay after class the next day, to talk some more. No man had ever taken such an interest in me before, in my thoughts and my feelings rather than in my body. As I develpoed curves in my teens, I had grown so weary of men ogling my body all the time, that I had taken to hiding myself behing loose, formless, shapeless sweats all the time. But Dave was so refreshingly different from the typical male creeps of my past, he seemed to really like me for ME!

"I've been thinking about what you told me yesterday, about your visit to the art museum in Cologne last summer," Dave began. "About how the Renaissance introduced color and variety of subject to what had been the monotony and blandness of Medieval art. Would you be willing to stand up before the class and give a little presentation about your visit?"

"Oh, I don't know, Dave. I'd be so NERVOUS!"

"Just look at me the whole time. Act like you are making the presentation just to me, ignore the rest of the class, and you'll do fine."

I thought to myself, "Wow! A whole class of gazing into Dave's deep, soulful eyes, and talking easily just to HIM! Now I could go for THAT!" But what I said out loud was "I'll try my best, Dave. When do you want me to do this?"

"Is one week enough time for you to put your presentation together?" Dave asked.

"A week is perfect!"

After I left Dave, I stopped by the campus library on my way home, to pick up three of the books that Dave had recommended on Renaissance art, that I felt would be particularly helpful for the presentation that Dave had asked me to make to the class.

That evening, as I sat alone in my room, jotting down ideas for my class presentation, I would excitedly call Dave to discuss every exciting new inspiration that struck me. He was a very helpful sounding-board to bounce my ideas off of, and his experienced insights helped me to focus my topics for the presentation.

The next night, Dave called ME for the first time, after I had already called him twice now. "I had some ideas to help you with your presentation," he began. After telling me a few of his excellent ideas, he whispered, "I have to confess, the real reason I called you is that I enjoy the sound of your voice, Patty. I have NEVER had this easy a time talking to ANYONE before."

I was glad that Dave couldn't see me over the phone, because I felt myself blushing at his sweet and charming compiment now. "I love the sound of your deep baritone voice, too, Dave," I whsipered over the phone.

I found myself eagerly awaiting our all-night phone conversations now. It didn't matter whether I called him or he called me, but I could hardly think of anything all day, every day, but when I would next talk on the phone with Dave. I wasn't getting much sleep, but I was having a wonderful time talking to Dave about anything and everything for hours on end, every night. I already felt a true soul connection with him.

Most nights, I would sit up naked in bed, one hand on my breasts and the other between my thighs, chatting easily with Dave on the phone, imagining that my hands were Dave's, and wondering what his touch would feel like, the touch of my teacher becoming the gentle and thrilling touch of my lover in my mind. I thought about the models who pose nude for his paintings, and I wondered to myself how it would feel to pose nude for him. Of course, I didn't metion ANY of this to Dave. I couldn't, I just COULDN'T! I felt I would just DIE if Dave ever guessed the impure thoughts I was having about him, every time I heard his deep and soothing baritone voice.

Finally, came the day of my presentation to the class.

"Last summer," I began, "I had the rare [here my volice nervously went up about three octaves, squaking] opportunity..." I cleared my throat: "Ahem! The rare opportunity to visit one of the [high-pitched squeak again] finest...Ahem! Finest collections of Renaissance art in all of [squeak] Europe..."

Dave held two fingers up, spread them in a V, and slowly moved them to his eyes. I took his hint, and locked my gaze on his. I spent the rest of the presentation gazing into Dave's amazing eyes, and I gave the whole rest of my presentation flawlessly, confidently, without a single nervous squeak.

The next day, right after class, Dave stopped me as I was heading out into the hallway. "You should be very proud, Patty. Half the class has told me today, how fasinating your presentation was yesterday. They said they never realized before how interesting old paintings could be. You did SUCH a great job, that I would like to invite you to drop by my house tonight, I'll whip up a little home-cooked dinner to celebrate your successful presentation, and we can start planning your NEXT class presentation."

I accepted his invitation for a home-cooked dinner at his place, but the rest of the afternoon, I was a raging storm of mixed emotions. Was the dinner really just to celebrate my successful presentation, or did he have other, sleazier ulterior motives? No, I decided, Dave could never be devious and sleazy like that. But what if he DID put the moves on me, would I have the will-power not to swoon under his deep gaze and even deeper voice? Worse, what if I couldn't control MY self, and I wound-up misreading him and putting the moves on HIM? And if I did that, and that wasn't his intention, I'd just DIE of embarrassment! And then I started to worry, would I have the courage to make a SECOND presentation to the class like Dave was suggesting? I could see what Dave was trying to do, draw my wallflower self out of my shell, but even with Dave's help, could I shed my ingrained shyness? But then again, I thought, if a second presentation meant that I would get to spend even MORE time working closely with, and getting to know Dave, well that was a DEFINITE plus in MY eyes!

Nervously, I rang Dave's doorbell. He ushered me in, and cheerfully offered me a glass of white wine. It was tasty, and helped to relax my nervousness about my first visit to my professor's home. He turned out to be a superb chef, tarined in a fine European culinary insitution. He had fixed us a delicious dinner of chicken over wild brown rice in a rich home-made mushroom sauce.

After dinner, we sat and chatted easily on his couch. I kicked my shoes off, and tucked my legs under me, my feet tucked under my butt. I had never felt this comfortable around a man before.

I don't know what posessed me, but I asked Dave to show me one of the nudes he had painted. He got up off the couch, retreated to his den, and came back holding a painting. We sat side-by-side on the couch and studied his painting together.

"You are QUITE talented, Dave," I smiled. "You have an amazing mastery of light and color and shadow. And your model is quite beautiful! But tell me, Dave, what made you choose a model with such SMALL breasts?"

Dave laughed. "You think her breasts are SMALL? I thought they were a nice size!"

"Compared to my own, yeah!" I laughed. "They DO seem kinda small to me!"

"Your breasts are larger than in this painting?" Dave asked, wide-eyed. Then he immediately stammered an apology. "Sorry, I crossed a line there that no teacher should ever cross with one of his students."

I reached out and held Dave's hand, and then gently patted the top of his hand. "It's OK, Dave, I'm not offended by your remark." I paused a moment. "My breasts ARE bigger and rounder than what you painted here." I paused again, then smiled sweetly at him. "Would you like to SEE them, Dave?"

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Patty!"

"Relax," I chuckled, "I'm perfectly comfortable around YOU, Dave!" With that, I began slowly rolling my swetashirt up under itself, until it was pulled up under my armpits, and revealing all but the very tops of my bare breasts.

"I have a confession to make, Patty," Dave began. "I had no models to pose nude for me. EVER! I painted this based on what I imagined the breasts looked like, on a woman who once lived across the hall from me in an apartment where I used to live. I was totally enamored of her, but she never knew it, because I was too shy to ever even approach her and say hello. So I resorted to idolizing her in my mind, and in this painting. I guess when I painted this, I underestimated how big and round and beautiful a woman's breasts can be. But now that you've shown me how breathtaking the real thing truly can be, I shan't make that mistake in any of my FUTURE paintings!"

"Breathtaking?" I asked, surprised. "Do you really think my breasts are breathtaking, Dave?"

"Well, they take MY breath away just looking at them!" Dave replied.

"Would you like to TOUCH them, Dave?"

"Oh, I couldn't, I shouldn't!" Dave stammered nervously. "You are my STUDENT!"

"It's OK, Dave. Really and truly, it's OK." But despite my reassurances, Dave kept stammering how he couldn't, he shouldn't. So I gently clasped his hand in mine, and guided his hand to my bare chest. "It really is OK, Dave," I reassured him again.

"Mmm! So soft, so smooth. They feel wonderful, Patty!"

His touch on my breasts felt absolutely divine. He didn't grab at my breasts like so many guys had in the past, and he softly rubbed my nipples between his fingers, rather than squeezing them hard as if trying to yank them right off of me, the way guys typically do. So I let him rest his hand on my breasts for several minutes, as we continued to chat comfortably about art. His hand on my breast felt so normal, so natural to me now, and the moment did not seem at all awkward for either of us any more. Finally, after about fifteen or twenty minutes, I delicately moved his hand away, and I rolled my sweashirt all the way back down again.

"It's getting late now, Dave. I think we'd better call it a night now. You have class to teach in the morning, and I need to be awake and alert, because I want to really LISTEN to your lecture tomorrow."

Dave led me to his door. I don't know if I kissed him first, or he kissed me, but we parted with a soft, light, delicate touching of lips. Not the hard, shove-his-tongue-down-her-throat kiss that the stupid football jock had tried on me last week.

That night, for the first time in years, I felt the need to masturbate myself to sleep, dreaming of Dave's soft kiss on my lips and gentle touch on my breasts.

 

[higherlevel4u]

Bear with me!

Patty - Hi!

Many thanks for your posting - excellent stuff!

Bear with me as I'm extremely busy at the moment in R/L, but I shall respond as quickly as possible!

Bye for now!

 

[catlover]

Frank

I am a TA at the class where Patty is a student. I had kept an eye on her ever since the class started, but of course couldnt get in the way of my boss Dave, making out with a student. More than once we had shared, but I had to wait to be invited.

I just helped him set up and conduct the class in return for free tuition, but the fringe benefits were considerable and I couldnt afford school on any other basis.

I had first noticed Patty's paper when I was grading hers and many others, but it stood out from the rest so i took it to show it t Dave, who immediately took a special interest in her.

Then I sat and listened to her presentation on the trip to Germany and the art museum. It was impressive, but I saw their eyes locked on each other the whole time.

This morning early, Dave called and explained that e had suddenly been called away on a family emergency, and I would have to conduct the classes today. He promised to call me tonight and fill me in on what was happenning and the schedule for the rest of the week. Fortunately this had happenned last yeat when his father was sick, and I had a lecture all prepared and ready to give on such an occasion

On completion, Patty walked up tro me, crestfalen and asked what had happenned. I really ddnt know anything, but told her Dave had called and asked me to fill in for him, and that he promosed to call me tonight and let me know what was happenning. It was break time and I needed a cup of coffee, so I asked Patty if she would like to join me . We went to the Hub, and while seated she told me she had been to Dabe's place last night for dinner, and everything seemed just fine. I toldher soething must have happoenned dring the night as he called me very ealy today. Then she sad Dave had shwn her a painting he had done of a nude. I had seen it too, and wondered about the flat chested model he had used. Then she told me she couldnt believe the woman's breasts in the painting, and with a laugh she said she had to show him what a real woman's breasts looked like.

I told her I painted nudes too, and when she indicated she wanted to see them, I told her my studio/flat was above the bakery near the campus, giving me the great smell of baking bread and other goodies to wake up to every morning, and she said she would drop by this evening then.

 

[Merelan]

wink...... I will be reading though.

 

[patford31769]

Patty

Frank showed me his nude painting. Like Dave, he seemed to have drawn his models from the Itty Bitty Titty Committee. Or maybe like Dave, he had no models at all, just his own limited imigination, based on never having seen a well-developed chest like mine. Frank seemed to have as much artisitc talent as Dave, perhaps even a little moreso. But unlike Dave, Frank was a complete stranger to me, so I was not at all comfortable yet with the idea of showing Frank what a real woman's breasts look like, as I had so easily and naturally done with Dave.

As Frank and I sat and discussed his painting, and art in general, I began to feel a little more relaxed around him, but still much more awkward with him than I had been with Dave.

Just then, Frank's phone rang. He said "Uh-huh" and "Oh, no" a lot, and I asked Frank what was going on. Frank covered the mouthpiece and whispered "It's Dave." Then he went back to his "Uh-huhs" and "Oh, nos."

"Let me talk to him," I begged Frank several times. Finally, Frank handed me the phone.

"Oh, Dave!" I sobbed, "I've really missed you!"

"I've missed you too, Patty honey," Dave whispered. He then launched into a long explanation about his younger sister's troubled son, Jake. Dave's sister Margaret had lost her husband in a tragic car crash when Jake was very young, and she had struggled ever since to hold down two full-time jobs and raise her son, all at the same time, and all with no man to hold her and comfort her when times got especially tough.

Having lost his father and almost never seeing his hard-working mother, Jake had decided, rather than to help his mother to cope with a difficult life, to feel sorry for himself, and to believe that the whole world was against him. His favorite hurtful thing to scream at his mother was "I didn't ASK to be born!" For several years, Jake had been in deeper and deeper trouble at school and with the law, and he had joined a violent street gang.

What had called Dave away so suddenly was that 17-year-old Jake and his gang buddies had decided to hold-up a liquor store, and the security guard at the store had shot Jake as he was fleeing with a bag of money. And now Jake lay in the hospital very seriously injured, facing possible partial paralysis. Margaret still had to work her two jobs just to pay her normal bills, and now she had to figure out how to find the time and money for Jake's medical and legal bills.

Dave, kind-hearted and generous man that he is, had taken off to help Margaret through all of these difficulties. It now looked as if it would be many months, maybe even more than a year, before Dave could sort this all out for his sister and his punk nephew, and come back to town and back to work. He was doing this to help his struggling sister more than his troubled nephew, whom most of the family had written off years ago. But he also hoped that even now, he might do some good in turning Jake around. If anyone could do that, I knew, Dave could, because Dave has SUCH a good soul.

After I hung up, I said, "Oh, Frank, I wish there was something I could do to help Dave, Jake, and Margaret." Then I leaned my head into Frank's shoulder and sobbed. "Oh, Frank, I feel so SELFISH! All I can think about is how I was just starting to develop a wonderful and loving relationship with Dave, and now that is being taken away! Is that selfish of me, to think that?"

Frank gently stroked my hair and held his arm around my back, soothing me and comforting me. "Oh, no, Patty, that's not selfish. Everyone deserves SOME happiness in their lives, and just as you were finding YOUR happiness, you lost it due to the selfishness of my nephew."

"YOUR nephew? You mean DAVE'S nephew, don't you?"

"Ummm, oh yes, of course," Frank stammered. "DAVE'S nephew!"

Still sniffling, I lifted my head off Frank's shoulder, and for the first time, I really LOOKED at Frank's face and in his eyes. Although their faces weren't identical, there was certainly a very strong resemblance between Frank and Dave, and for the first time, I noticed that they had identical soulful eyes. They were both art professors at the same University, both specializing in painting nudes with tiny breasts. Frank and Dave were the same height and build, looked to be about the same age, same hair color, even similar tastes in clothing.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I would almost think that you and Dave could be twins!" I whispered.

"What! Twins? Why that's preposterous! What would make you SAY such a thing!"

"Methinks thou dost protest too much!" I laughed, at which Frank shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "You ARE twins, aren't you?" I gasped. "That's why you said MY nephew instead of DAVE'S nephew. Because as twins, Jake is nephew to BOTH of you!"

"My secret is out, Patty! Dave and I ARE twins. Fraternal twins, not identical twins. You know, same mother at the same time from two different eggs..."

"I KNOW what fraternal twins are, Frank! But why the secrecy about it?"

"Because the University frowns on nepotism. If word ever got out that we are twin brothers, Dave or I, or BOTH of us, could lose our jobs! Luckily, since our last name is Jones, nobody thought anything about having two profesors with the same last name in the same department."

"Your secret is safe with me, Professor Frank Jones," I assured him, warmly clasping his hand in friendship. I gazed deep into Frank's eyes, to reassure him that he could trust me, and I saw that same deep soulful look in his eyes that I had seen in Dave's eyes, the day I first started to feel I was falling in love with him. With Dave out of my life indefinitely, and a lonely empty void in me that desperately needed filling, could I ever feel the same comfort level with Frank as I had felt with his fraternal twin Dave? Could I fall for a man who was cut from the same mold and had the same kind soul as Dave? Would the same attractive qualities I had found in Dave make me attracted to Frank as well? If I ever did fall for Frank in place of Dave, would I feel I was being disloyal to Dave in his times of trouble with his nephew? But would that really be disloyal, since Frank was as troubled as Dave: after all, it was HIS nephew in trouble, too! Would Frank consider me a slut if I took an interest in him after dating his twin brother? Would I feel like a slut if I dated Frank? Was it too early in my friendship with Frank to be thinking about all of this, and to be asking myself such questions?

Frank could see I was quite agitated, and he offered me a glass of white wine to help calm me. He poured himself a glass of white wine, too, and as we sipped our wine, we talked.

"It is good of you to want to help my family with my criminal gangster nephew," Frank began. "But Dave said he can handle it, and he said that if you and I got involved, it would be too many people complicating the picture. Dave said he needs to work one on one with Jake, to get him out of the gang and on the straight and narrow. To work with the doctors trying to help Jake recover from his gunshot wounds. And to work with the lawyers who want to prosecute Jake to the maximum, for robbing the liquor store and for other gang activities. Dave hopes he can get Jake to turn state's evidence against the gang, to help Jake get himself out of some of the deep trouble he's in. Dave said if he gets to a point where he DOES need our help, he'll ask for it, but in the meantime, the best help we can give him is to stay out of his way as he sorts through all the mess that our nephew has caused!"

"OK, Frank. If that's what Dave wants. But I want you to know I'm here to help, any time you or Dave need me, all you have to do is ask."

"I know that, and I appreciate that, Patty," Frank replied. "And I know that Dave knows that, too. You told me earlier that Dave and I both have good souls. Well, so do you, Patty. And that's why Dave was starting to fall in love with you before he was called away. And why I'm maybe starting to fall in love with you a little myself already, Patty. I hope I'm not too forward in saying that?"

"Not at all, Frank, not at ALL! I think I could see myself, down the road, maybe falling a little bit in love with YOUR kind soul, too, Frank! But it's getting late now, and I have to go home and get some rest, so I can get up and be alert in class tomorrow." With that, I gave Frank a light peck on the cheek, whispered, "Good night, Dave's brother," and left.

 

[catlover]

Frank

I was sorry she left, but nprobably it was just as well. Our secret was out, due to bizarre circumsances and a slip of my tongue

Dave said he would call the head of the Department in the morning and reccomend that be given the autjhority to complete the academic year in lieu if him, since he would be gone through June at least,Now all I could do was wait, meanwhile trying to figutre out what to se for my lectures tomorrow in hs absence.

Patty was no help, telling me she was falling in love with him and now, maybe down the troad, might nfeel that y with me. That was fine with me if it happenned. I wsas glad then that I had only shown her the one painting, instead of the ones in my bedroom, which are a lot more erotic, especially the photograph I kept behind a drawn curtain, of an old girlfriend sitting there with her legs drawn up and spread, holding her pussy lips apart, and Id had it enlarged to a 12" by 18" framed size, and look at it evey night when I go to bed.

More than one female student had seen it and let me compare her to it, but time would tell, and I would let it take its time

I would see Patty tomorrow and let her know what the department decided.

 

[patford31769]

I was not really sorry I had opened myself up emotionally to Frank, nor even to have told him I could fall in love with him for the same warm, sweet qualities he shared with his twin brother. No, no misgivings at all, despite my initial reservations about his reputation as the campus letch.

Oh, yes, some of those other girls had told me about his giant painting of a wide-open pussy. But as an art major, that didn'tr really shock me. In a way, I kind of wanted to see it, to look at his use of light, shadow, brush-stroke techniques...god, I'm such a boring nerd! Here is a gigantic tribute to the most beautiful and sensitive part of female anatomy, and the only reason I want to see Frank's infamous painting at all is to look at his brush-stroke techniques? Get a life, Patty, and stop being SUCH a geek!

The next day, when Frank heard he had been accepted to fill Dave's shoes for the rest of the semester, I was thrilled for Frank, although still sad for the circumstances that had sent Dave rushing away from the school and out of my arms that had so yearned to hold him. But oddly, I didn't miss Dave's charming conversations with me, probably because Frank possessed the same extensive knowledge of art history and technique, and the same charm and sparkling wit, as his brother Dave.

Frank was spending a lot of time out of town, helping his brother Dave and his sister Margaret to cope with Jake's medical and legal troubles. I often asked Frank to take me with him, and he always said no, Jake and Margaret would be too uncomfortable sharing their pain and tragedy with a total stranger like me. But I suspected part of it was jealousy: Frank and I were hitting it off so famously now, that I think Frank feared I might start-up with Dave and forget about Frank if I were to see Dave again now. Of course, Frank didn't come right out and tell me that, but his body language spoke volumes!

Then one day, when I suspect Frank knew that Dave wouldn't be there, Frank did take me to see Jake. Jake's chest was heavily bandaged, his right leg in a foot-to-thigh cast, his back braced to keep him still and avoid the still very-real possibility of permanent paralysis to his spine, which one of the security guard's bullets had lightly grazed as Jake fled the scene of the liquor-store holdup. I could still see the hard eginess in Jake's face that came from too much street-gang life, but asleep in his hospital bed, there was also a slight peacefulness on his face, like he knew he had screwed-up once too often and was sincerely remorseful, and doggedly determined to straighten out and fly right.

Jake's eyes fluttered open for a moment. "Who are you, lovely lady?" he whispered hoarsely. "A sweet angel come to take me away? No, no, I can't be going to heaven, after what I've done."

"Shh!" I whispered. "Don't speak. Save your strength for your recovery. I'm here with your uncle Frank to help you wherever I can."

"My uncle knows you? Are you his girlfriend? I wouldn;t be surpised. He always has been one very lucky dude!" And with that, Jake fell back on his bed, and instantly went back to sleep.

"Do you hear that, Frank?" I laughed "Your nephew thinks I'm your girlfriend!"

"Would that it were true," Frank sighed. "Then I would be 'one very lucky dude', indeed!"

"Oh, Frank, how sweet of you to say so!" I gushed, softly kissing him on the cheek, and exuberantly kicking up my heel behind me for the unexpected sweet compliment, bestowed despite the family tragedy surrounding him right there in the hospital room.

Jake's eyes fluttered open again, "See, Uncle Frank," he croaked out, "I done toll you, you're one VERY lucky dude! But as soon as I get out of this hospital bed, I'm gonna turn MY luck around, too! No more gangstas for ME!"

"Promise, Jake!"

"That's a promise, Uncle!"

"I'm gonna hold you to that, Jake!" Frank declared. But too late for Jake to hear, because Jake was already back on his pillow, snoring softly.

Frank nervously looked at his watch. "We'd better go now. I don't think we should be here when Da--umm, I mean, when my sister Margaret gets here, he might not approve of my bringing my , ahem, as KJake called you, my 'girlfriend' around to see her son."

Interesting Freudian slip, that. Frank started to say Dave, confirming his jealousy that I might fall for Dave all over again should I still be there on his arrival, so we'd better leave before that could happen!

I didn't mind, really. I was starting to like Frank, despite his use of sexual inuendos and double entendres. He used them in a playful way, that made them seem less threatening, although at the same time making it quite bluntly clear that he found me very sexually desirable. I don't mind being told I look great and a guy wants to bed me, as long as he does that in a sweet and charming, not a crude and leering way. And Frank had sweetness and charm in great abundance!

As we left the hospital and started the long drive back home, Frank asked if I was hungry.

"Famished, in fact," I replied.

"Great, I know this quaint little French bostro near here, where..."

"Great!" I interrupted. "Let's go!"

Frank was right, the cuisine was superb and the wines some of the finest. As we ate, I giggled and asked, "So, Frank, when are you going to show me your giant painting of a wide-open pussy?"

Frank practically choked on his food, and nervously dropped his fork on the floor. "How do you know about THAT?"

"Are you KIDDING? Every girl on campus knows about THE painting! So, Frank, when do I get to see it?"

"Well, I usually show it only to girls I've fucked..."

"Well, forget that!" I laughed. "You art gallery has too high a price of admission for me!"

"As I was saying, 'to girls I have fucked, or to brilliant art students like yourself, who can appreciate the skills that went into the art itself, without obsessing over the SUBJECT of the painting!'"

After our dinner and a long drive home, we were passing Frank's place when I realized I still lived another five miles further. "You look tired, Frank. I don't want you driving an extra ten miles out of your way, just to drop ME home. How about if I crash on your couch for tonight, and you take me home in the morning? Besides, it gives me a chance to see THE painting!"

Frank got this leering look on his face. "No, Frank, I'm not going to show you mine for comparison with the one you painted. Sorry. Yeah, I know, aw shucks!"

When I finally saw the infamous giant pussy painting, I thought it was wonderful, as skillfully painted as any of the best artists in hostory, from DaVinci right on through to Warhol, the artistic skill level and originality of style the equal of ANY of them!

At my request, Frank left the painting in the living room with me, to study some more, and he went off into his room to sleep. I stripped naked, sat on the edge of the couch, and did as so many other girls had done before me, examined my own pussy and painstakingly compared it, detail for detail, with the giant painted one. I held my pussy open to compare my own interior to the metsiculous details in the painting. Here was an artist with an obvious deep appreciation and understanding of his subject. I began to wonder, what kind of amazing lover must Frank be, to have SUCH a passion for lovingly capturing every last detail of female genatalia. For it was quite obvious now, that Frank had truly and deeply loved and cherished the very lucky woman whom he so carefully and skillfully and passionately captured on canvas! Would he, could he, ever love ME that completely?

The thought had me breathing heavily, and my fingers began exploring the deepest regions of my femininity. I was feeling so good that I started moaning softly. Or at least I thought it was softly. I guess I was getting more carried away than I realized, for Frank burst into the room.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me sitting up completely naked on the edge of his couch, my legs spread wide open, staring intently at his painting, my left hand cupping my left breast and stroking and pinching my ;eft mipple, while three fingers of my right hand eagerly explored all over the inside of my pussy.

"Sorry," he stammered. "I thought I heard a noise, and I worried whether you are OK. I can see now that you are, umm, in VERY capable hands and QUITE all right."

I was nervous and embarrassed, but for some strange reason, I just couldn't stop staring at the painting and playing with myself, even with Frank standing only a few feet away. It was as if that painting had some sort of hypnotic control over my actions. I'm normal a very shy and reserved woman, so why the open and uninhibited display of sluttiness in front of Frank? I couldn't explain it, I couldn't even understand it myself.

"Being naked in front of you, while you'r dressed, should embarass me. But oddly, it doesn't!"

"Would you be more comfortable if I got naked too? Level the playing field, so to speak?"

"That might help, Frank," I concurred. "Make me mroe comfortable, if I'm not the ONLY one naked here!" Oh God, what am I SAYING, I thought! Asking a man to get naked in front of me? I am definitely NOT that kind of girl. Yet I could not bring myself to tell Frank to stop, as he slowly shed one item after another of his clothing.

I had to admit, he had a nice chiseld chest, much like Dave's. And his cock was not at all displeasing to the eyes! It had been a long, LONG tome since I had seen one in person, and I can't remember feeling as pleased to see one, or as comfortable to be in the presence of a semi-hard cock, as I was now in front of Frank.

I patgted the couch beside me. "Come, Frank, sit beside me and le's just talk. Bit no touching each other, OK? I'm not yet ready for that, I'm not yet comfortable with physical and sexual contact with you. Does sitting naked beside me, without is touching, make you uncomfortable, Frank? Believe me, I'm not a cock-teaser, and if and when I'm copmfortable with it, I still could see me making love with you some day. Just not here, not now, not tonight. Is that OK, Frank."

"Well, Patty, you are very beautiful and sexy, and it is hard to rein-in my lustful desires for you. But I'm no rapist, and if you say you aren't ready yet, I'll respect that. I'm a matur enough man to just sit here and chat naked with you, and respect your wishes not to touch you. But I can't guarantee that my cock won't get hard and throbbing from time to time, just looking at you naked beside me."

"Fair enough, Frank. And I can't guarantee that my pussy won't get wet and juicy at the SIGHT of your cock getting hard! I might have as difficult a time not jumping YOUR bones, as you have not jumping mine! But I want our first time to be PERFECT, and with all the troubles your family is facing right now, this moment is FAR from ideal! Isn't that so?"

"You're right, Patty," Frank agreed.

We spent the next two or three hours talking about Jake, about art, about THE painting and its hypnotic effect on every wopman who sees it (including me), about Frank's appointment to take Dave's place, about so MANY things.

I watched Frank gain and lose about seven erections in those hours, and my pussy got steamy-wet each and every time I saw his beautiful hard-on, But somehow, we managed to keep our agreement of no touching. Until, that is, we both started yawning heavily and repeatedly in exhaustion: it had been a VERY long day, for both of us.

That is when we both stood up, and I hugged him. He seemed to like the feel of my big, round, soft breasts pressed up against his chest, and I know I enjoyed feeling his slowly-pulsating hard-on pressed up against my belly.

Then he retreated to his room, and I fell asleep on his couch. I think after this night, we both already knew, that our first sexual coupling would have to be very, VERY soon, or we might both die of terminal horniness for each other! But we continued to date every night that week, still with no sexual contact of any kind under the circumstances of Frank's family tragedy. I think by that time, we just about WERE on the edge of terminal horniness, BOTH of us.

And then a week later, came the terrific news: Jake had agreed to testify against his whole gang. It turned out that Jake had kept a journal with extensive details of every gang crime: names, dates, addresses, almost as if he had KNOWN he would some day need it to escape the gang's evil clutches. In return for the journal and his testimony at trial, Jake would have no arrest or conviction on his record, and a lot of the toughest punks would be permanently off the street. Better yet, the bullet had NOT paralyzed Jake's spine, and doctors expected him to be up and walking within a month.

Frank and I knew that there was no longer this tremendous burden on us, keeping us from fulfilling our sexual desires for one another. We agreed that tonight would be the night! I dressed in my orettiest, sexiest outfit, and nervously knocked on Frank's door.

Frank was resplendent in his tux and bowtie as he opened his front door to me, and he had set an elegant table befitting the sumptuous dinner he had prepared. "Your table awaits, madame!"

We both tried to stay calm and civilized all through dinner, but in my mind, and I'm sure on Frank's, I couldn't wait to finish dinner and start ripping each other's clothes off!

 

[catlover]

Frank

She had really seduced me, with her firced agreement about no touching. We hadnt evenb really kissed, but we both knew where it was going, once she admired my lovely and famous painting.

She commented on my brush technique. I really wanted to show her, by taking the brush with its big round handle, but very soft hair bristles, and brush them lightly across her tender inner folds, as i had the night I painted the picture, and had my model so excited and aroused she could hardly sit still, and didnt as soo9n as i let her take a break. Then I finished the picture while her pussy was full of my cum.

Of course the handle could be used too as a dildo, but I really wanted to demonstrate the brushing for her, knowing what it would bring to both of us

We finished eating and just put the dishes in the sink. Neither of us wanted any hot water or dishes in our hands. We had other things to touch.

She went over to look at the painting prominently mounted on my wall now. I turned on some music and took her in my arms for a dance. Innocently she looked at the painting and again commented on my brush technique. I told her I would show her, as soon as we were ready. With that she swung in my arms and melted in our embrace, as we circled the small floor area, while i slid down the zipper on the back of her dress. She looked at me and for the very first time we really kissed. not a light brush on the cheek, or even the back of her neck where I had kissed her while she admired my painting, but this time on the lips, first tenderly and then passionately, with our tongues dancing together too as I held her.

I stepped back and she let the dress fall. She was wearing a bra to hold her perfect breasts, and she reached behind her and released the clasp. She wore no panties and her bright red bush revealed that her hair color was genuine as well as spectacular, as she stood there naked before me, leading me over to the painting and asking me how she compared.

We looked at it togethetr and I asked her how she liked my brush technique. She smiled, as if she might even have guessed what i was thinking, and then sat on the couch in a position similar to that of the model, baring herself for me to compare.

I reached in a drawer and removed the brush I had in mind, and told her I wanted to paint her. She smiled and said yes, and I took the brush and lightly touched it to her, without touching her myself. She wiggled as it probably tickled, but she sat back and opened wider, and sighed in response to the tender strokes of my brush.

She looked at me in total lust, and suddenly came, and panted that she wanted my brush, and reached for my belt and zipper

Soon I was naked and brushing her with the real thing. No dildo and no paintbrush, I was stroking her with my own flesh as we kissed and held each other copulating on the couch as we had both wanted to do since the first night, but the waiting made it even more meaningful as we made love. Real love, felt and expressed between us, as we gave ourselves to each other, and i mentally thought about the extra A she would get in the grade book for her extraordinary talent, until now undemonstrated.

 

[patford31769]

Patty

With Dave, I had wanted to pose nude and let him paint me, since Dave had never worked from a real live model before, painting nudes only from his own feeble and insufficient imagination, as evidenced by what tiny breasts he had painted, never having seen a full, generous endowment like my own big, round, soft but firm breasts.

But I had never worked up the courage to pose for Dave, and then he had been called away and out of my life. I had thought I would wait for Dave, and pose for him on his return. But I had not counted on Dave having a twin brother who was every bit as wonderful as Dave was, but was less shy and more willing to coax me out of my sexually-repressed shell than Dave had been.

Frank was everything to me, my prince resurrected from a toad, my knight in shining armor to scoop me up into his warm, loving arms, and to show me what a real relationship with a real man was all about. But the moment had to be JUST right, and tonight it finally was.

When we had danced around the room, I had completely fallen under his spell, melting into his wonderful loving arms. When he had so sweetly helped me out of my dress, I knew then that the moment was right, and without being asked, without any games, hesitation, or mental reservations any more, I had simply, casually, and easily removed my bra for him, for US! As if it was the most normal and natural thing in the world for me to do now. Because with Frank, with all that we felt between us, it WAS that easy and natural to be naked together.

When he had offered to paint me, I had thought about posing all cheesy and fake sexy, like the models in men's magazines. But then I realized that wasn't me, that I just wanted to be comfortably nude with no pretenses, no artifice.

I hadn't realized that Frank meant painting me literally, until he began gently, lovingly running the paint brush all over my unclothed body. It tickled at first, but his brush strokes were so soft, gentle, sensual and sensuous, and loving. I knew now how he had been able to put so much love and passion into that infamous giant painting of his, showing a wide-open pussy: because he genuinely loved and respected the model, and now Frank genuinely loved and respected ME! I had never felt so wonderful inside, so loved and cherished, as I did at that very moment.

But it was soon to get even better. As I unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his arms, I leaned my head into his muscular chest and deeply inhaled the masculine scent of his Stetson cologne. How did he KNOW that's my all-time favorite cologne? I closed my eyes and imagined us in a clearing in the woods on a crystal-clear night, seated before a warm and toasty camp fire, our arms about each other, as we softly kissed. In my daydream, Frank wore a brown cowboy hat, light-blue denim shirt, tight dark-blue brand-new jeans with a nice thick ridge running all the way up the front, and calf-high brown cowboy boots tucked under his jeans. I was similarly dressed: brown cowgirl hat, completely-unbuttoned blue denim blouse with no bra underneath, my cleavage and the round edges of my breasts visible but my hard nipples hidden under the denim, dark-blue denim miniskirt with no panties underneath, and calf-high brown cowgirl boots.

In my daydream, I gently and playfully shoved Frank flat on his back in the tall forest grass, unbuckled his huge shiny brass belt buckle, and tugged his jeans (with that wonderful new-denim smell) down just enough to release his hard-on from its denim confinement, and let his thick shaft point straight up at the stars. I gathered up my miniskirt, straddled his legs with mine, and slowly sank myself down over his thick, stiff, pulsating manhood.

I opened my eyes from this daydream, to find that the reality was even better than the fantasy now: Frank had replaced the paintbrush with his cock, lightly painting invisible swirling brush strokes all over my naked body! It didn't take very long for us to get so excited that we both came at the same time. He dipped his cock in my pussy juices and in his manly come, and proceeded to paint decorative pearly-white patterns all over me, using his hard-on as his paint brush, our well-blended come as his oil-paint, and my breasts and belly as his canvas. What an artistic talent!

"You are wonderful, Frank! Amazing, in fact! And now I am finally, FINALLY ready. I need your cock in me, baby! I want you to fuck me! Now, finally, at long last, make slow, sweet, passionate love with me, Frank!"

I lay down flat on my back, raised my knees, slowly opened my legs apart, and placing both my hands between my thighs, I becckoned him in, like those two flashlights guiding an airplane into an airport terminal. "Fuck me, Frank," I whispered sweetly and tenderly, as he slowly eased his hugeness into me now.

"He's home," Frank smiled. "At last, at LONG last, he is at HOME, Patty, where he belongs, where he was ALWAYS meant to be! This is SO right, SO perfect, SO...home!" he sighed contentedly.

"Come home, Frank," I agreed. "This IS where you belong! Hold me safe, hold me lovingly in your strong and gentle arms, and let yourself slide into the safe and comfortable home where you belong! Mmmmm, yes, Frank, this is SO right, SO natural. Welcome HOME, Frank!" I purred contentedly, as he slowly, sweetly fucked me, expressing his love so gently, yet so completely and powerfully, in a way that no man ever had or ever could with me before.

Frank was at home in my pussy, but I was just as at home sheathing and shielding and protecting his wonderful hard cock in my soft, warm, moist pussy. "You are safe in my arms, in my sweet loving pussy, baby! No harm can EVER befall EITHER of us, while we are loving each other like this, honey! It is my JOB to keep you safe and warm and loved like this, in my arms and in my pussy!" I moaned. "A job I accept willingly, eagerly, now and forever, to hold you safe and comforted like this!"

"And it is my job, freely, willing and eagerly taken up, to hold YOU safe in MY arms, Patty, and to let you feel sweetly and powerfull loved, to envelop you in my arms, and to pleasure you sweetly, delicately, lovingly with my cock!"

"Mmmmmmmm!" I moaned, softly and repeatedly. This was life as it was meant to be, as I had never even known it COULD be! From this magical moment forward into all eternity, there would never again be a Patty or a Frank as separate entities, from now on there would be no "him" or "me", only an US, a perfect union of two formerly-lost half-souls into one blended and perfect and whole soul, invincible against WHATEVER the universe might throw at us any more!

"Welcome HOME, Frank!" I moaned again. As he preseed and thrusted and throbbed his way in and out of me, I eagerly squeezed and flexed my pussy muscles tightly around him, to draw him down even deeper into me.

"I'm COMING now, Frank. I'm COMMMMM-ing! Oh god, am I EVER coming! I can't STOP coming, you feel SO good in me now, Frank, my love! SSSOOOO good! So DAMNED good! So you can come any time it feels right and comfortable for you now, Frank!" I whispered. "I love you SO much, so VERY much! Show me how MUCH you love me now, Frank, by filling me to overflowing with your thick, hot COME! Mmmmmm, ba-BEEEE! COME for me now, baby!"

 

[catlover]

Frank

I knew she would like the paintbrush, I'd used the maneuver often enough. I didnt know if she would like my cock that much, but she made it clear that she did and she would want it often and forever, the way she spoke all those loving words to me.

After we came, she asked me where I picked up that little tactic so I told her

One day I was in an artists supply store up on Broadway. I was looking at paintbrushes, checking out the softness of the bristles when a salesgirl offerred to help me. After a few words were exchanged, she told me the ultimate way to check a brush's softness. I asked her if she would pose for me and she agreed, after I paid for the brushes she picked out for me, including this one. It has naver been in paint. Only in pussies. Both ends. That night she came here and after a few minues, got naked and showed me the technique I used with you

I painted her with the dry soft brush, and then my tongue, and then my cock, and after we fucked I painted that picture. She was my model, and we had sex many times after that as she admired my work, and of course I had to keep making corrections to have all the colors and shadows and textures all exactly correct

Finally she got married and moved away, but it was memorable while it lasted, although we were never really lovers, just sex partners. I have used her advice many times since, right here on this couch, including two girls in our current classes.

But no more, now that we have found each other. I have never felt ths way about anyone, maybe because no one ever made me wait so long to paint her!

With that we went down the little hall to my bedroom and went to bed together As we laid there together still resting and storing up for our next session, she told me no one had ever looked at her the way I did either. She said she had been naked and had sex before but always in the dark, and this was the first time she ever let a man look at her the way I had in bright light, exposing herself to my admiration and love and respect.

With that revelation melting me I took her in my arms and made love to her again. All night we were together and again in the morning, when as we drove to class I told her I needed as assistant to help with the classes, and asked her to be my TA, now that the college had formally appointed me to conduct the class schedule.

We walked into class together holding hands, and made the announcement to the group. They all applauded and cheered, and we looked at each other and kissed right there in the classroom, and then started our day

That night she moved in with me and we have been very happy ever since.

 

[patford31769]

Patty

I loved being Frank's teaching asistant, and I was glad that our relationship was out in the open before the whole class now. Sneaking around and hiding our love would have turned what was warm and sweet, lovely and loving and magical, into something cheap and tawdry and ugly.

After making love with Frank that first time, he asked me to move in with him, and I enthusiastically agreed. So after class that very day, I went back home, to pack up my things.

As I was packing, I started looking at all the paintings I had made over the years. I would be almost embarrassed to show them to Frank, they seemed so untalented compared to Frank's amazing giant pussy painting. But I knew Frank would not be judgmental if I showed him my art works. But to me, the themes in all of my paintings seemed so boring, routine, mundane now, compared to the passion in Frank's paintings: still-lifes of bowls of fruit, and landscapes of grassy fields and bridge-covered streams. Yes, I decided again, all of my paintings so far are boring, there is simply NO passion in my paintings.

Then I remembered what Frank had said in his lecture to the class earlier this afternoon, about painting what you are passionate about. I resolved right then and there to paint what I am passionate about. So every night, after Frank fell asleep after hours and hours and just HOURS of the most wonderful and amazing sweet lovemaking, I somehow found the strength and energy to get up for an hour and paint my passion.

Frank never suspected a thing, until finally one day my painting was complete. After dinner, before retreating to our bedroom as had become our immediate after-dinner habit, I presented him with my gift-wrapped painting. My painting of HIM, made entirely from memory, showing Frank reclining nude on his couch. I had deliberately made the light-and-shadow in the painting to instantly draw your eye's attention to the center of the painting, dominated by a VERY accurate and highly-detailed depiction of Frank's very big and very hard cock.

"Hey," I smiled, "You DID tell the class to paint what we are PASSIONATE about! I can't think of ANYTHING I'm more pasionate about than your beautiful, hard manhood! Now, where shall we hang my painting, to show you off in the best possible lighting and to best advantage, for all the world to see how magnificent a stud, how magnificent a MAN, you truly are?"

"How about right next to MY painting of your OWN magnificent self?" Frank smiled, as he showed me for the first time, the completed and exquisite nude painting of me, that I had posed for, which he had already hung on the wall of his den while I had been packing.

From another house down the block, the perfect song wafted through our window now. An old Captain and Tenille recording: "Love Will Keep Us Together."

We slowly, lovingly stripped each other now, and spent the night hugging and kissing and fucking and 69ing, rubbing paint brushes all over each other, and just generally building the love between us, the love immortalized in both of our paintings of and loving tributes to each other, the love that will keep us together. Forever!

 

[catlover]

Frank

You can imagine what it was lie in clasds. Evey time I cked up a paintbrush, Patty would blush a color that matched her bright red hair, and look around the room room to see if any other girls blushed too, because i wouldnt tell her who the other current student was.

Finally she figured it out, and in a quiet moment went to her and asked. She smiled and confessed, and told Patty that she did it to herself every night with her paintbrushes now

Patty asked if she would like to pose for us, and she said yes. That night when she arrived and asked what we would like her to do, Patty told her to get naked and just be comfortable while she got her sketchbook and got ready. We showed her our matching paintings of my cock pointed at her wide open pussy

Then Patty told me to have sex with her, and sketched us. Patty started doing a painting of us, clearly showing her face. Finally it was compleed after many posing sessions to get it just right

Then we had an open house to show off our paintngs. The girl was nervous and embarassed when it was revealed, but not for long because soon everyone was naked and pairing off in couples on the floor, on my couch and in my bed making love.

Patty and I had agreed that we wouldnt have sex except oral, and i had to turn down a bunch of them, but got a lot of blowjobs and ate every girl in the class and so did Patty, especially enjoying the ripe pussies that had just been fucked

Afterward, we made love and talked about our collection of paintings, and what we would work on next. You can imagine what class was like from then on, but eveyone got an A

 

[patford31769]

Now I was really painting my passion, as Frank always taught! I was naked, sketching a naked Frank eagerly fucking one of my hot, naked classmates. I lovingly sketched out every minute detail of them, and Frank was so pleased, that he had me lie beside this girl, rubbing pussy against pussy, as HE painted.

Soon, we had so many exciting and erotic paintings, that we held our own art show and invited the whole class. The paintings were all so life-like, and so skillfully and lovingly sketched, that everyone got turned on, and soon everyone was eating and fucking everyone else.

Frank and I decided that we love each other too much for either of us to fuck anyone else at this art show. But we enjoyed watching the various couplings, and Frank and I both enjoyed pairing up orally with some of my classmates. To me, the best was to eat out a pussy that had JUST been fucked, it was still so warm and wet and red and swollen, and when the girl came on my skillful tongue, I would be licking up her guy's fresh, warm semen, along with her own tasty pussy juices, and what could be better than THAT?

After the smashing success of our art show, I spent the next several weeks furiously working on three new paintings: one of Frank sweetly, gently and pasionately fucking me missionary style, glistening beads of sweat sparkling on his skin as we made enrgetic love; one of me enthusiasticllay riding Frank, my head tossed back, and you could almost HEAR me moaning delisiously, ecstatically; and one of us locked in a tight 69 while our entire class watched us, all of them naked, too. I painted all three from memory, including the loving and lustful way Frank and I always look at each other, and the obvious pleasure, contentment, and passion of the moment. I thought these were my best paintings ever, and truly painting my passion as Frank had taught me. Frank agreed that these were my three best, most passionate paintings ever.

Frank, too, painted up a storm of erotic images of him and me, and of the class, over those next few weeks. Many classmates painted, too, and they all turned in A grade work, all painting the person that he or she was most passionate about. I was flattered that the girl who shared our paint-brush secret had lovingly depicted every last detail of MY naked body!

And soon it was time for a SECOND erotic art show/orgy, with the whole class, the school at large, and the surrounding community invited to enjoy nude art in the nude.

 

[catlover]

Frank

By now word had gotten around the campus, and we had a lot of drop-in people auditing our class sessions Since this was really Dave's position and for me was only temporary untl June, neither of us gave a shit what hapenned, so we scheduled another open house, ths time printing up flyers and having them posted all over the campus and even in a few surrounding business establishments. We clearly indicated it was an adult show and no one under 2l would be admitted as there woud be nudt. EWe didnt tell them that nudity was required to attend. They woulkd find out soon enough.
We had sold a few paintings, some even of each other, and had a few bucks in the till, so we rented a large nearby hall and hired a caterer.

The day before, we set up easels posting our work with price tags, and we were ready. The school year was over this next weekend, and we wanted to do it before our students took off for home after classes were over.

There were a very few pieces that werent erotic, but almost everthing was. Some pieces had been submitted by our students too, and we gave them equal presentation.

We had security guards all over the place to enforce the rules of the house. They were the only ones allowed to wear any clothes, and the women guests were allowed to carry purses, but no other clothing. There was an adequate dressing room and coat closet at the entrance to accomodate everyone, including a checking system to keep track of any valuables

We were all set, and the time arrived. A few of our students came in, and walked aroud a little sheepishly covering their privates with their hands, looking at the work, when we heard a ruckus at the door. Patty and I, both naked, went over to check on what was happenning. A fat lady was trying to enter and objected to getting naked too. Looking a her I sort of hoped she would leave, but never stopping complaining, she shed her clothes and just dropped them on the floor and walked in.

She got prettier and prettier though, as she bought the first paintng she saw of me fucking Patty, and then saw the next one of her sucking my cock and bought it too. Then she saw the one of Patty with the other girl in a 69 and bought that one.

Then she stopped and looked at us and recognized us from the paintngs. She screamed that she wanted everythng in the hall. We were told to just add up the prices and put red sold tags on everything and lets get the acton going, as she led Patty over to a couch, pushed her into a seated position and started licking her pussy. Some guy went behind her and thrust his cock into her huge ass, and the party was on.

I went around the hall adding up the prices and who the artists were. The toal was $37000, and of that 34,500 of it belonged to Patty and me, and the rest to several of my students

I went back and doubled the price tags on those, bringing the new ttal to $39,500, and presented her the bill as se was lying on her back on the floor getting fucked by one of my students

Then another fracas at the door caught my attention. It was the Dean of Women trying to enter. She objected too, but saw the people inside and wanted to see who was here and in charge. The guard made her undress anyway, and this dowdy bitch came in looking for Patty and me.

I walked over to her trying to look away from her ugly face and at her rather trim body. She started to say something, but had seen a few paintings already and then saw my hard-on, and she smiled a hello and put her arms around me and gave e a huge wet kiss.

I told her no French kissing was allowed with the current situaton in the United Nations over Iraq. She smiled and said "OK, lets do Greek then", and bent over for me to fuck her in the ass.

I acquiesced to her demand, and after I came in her, she wanted to know why we let one woman buy the entire showing without letting anyone else have a chance.

I told her we would do any sort of commission painting she desired. Just to pick one out and we would paint whatever she liked. She met the big fat woman buyer and offerred her double the $39500 for the entire lot, but was turned down, while I was at the door closing it down to any new entrants, so we could get on with the party.

"Pour the champagne", I hollerred to the bartender

$500 for the hall and another $500 for the security gaurs turned out to be a great investment, especially when the Dean sided over to me having had fucked several guys, and picked out several thins she would like to have Patty and me paint for her. She invited us over to her house the noight school ended to discuss the contract and celbrate the end of the year, winking at me that there would be special entertainment offerred too.

 

[patford31769]

Patty

This erotic art party had turned out much better than any of us had even dared to hope. We sold-out every last painting, collected $39,500 on our $1000 invetment, and got a big fat commission from the Dean of Women herself, to paint even more erotic art just for HER!

And I had gotten to suck cock and eat pussy until my jaw practically needed rewiring. And my pussy and ass had seen more cocks in the last hour, than they had in the previous 20 years! And just think, I had been a shy wallflower, almost afraid of my own shadow, until I had met Frank!

The Dean of Women threw the art school a big party, to get us all started on our new art commission. A few of the college sophomore guys in the art class showed up in togas, which made the Dean laugh.

"Patty, Frank, show these naive boys what a 'Greek' party really means!" the Dean laughed. "It has NOTHING to do with fraternities or wearing togas!"

I licked and spit all over my fingers, slid them into my naked ass for lubrication, then bent over, as Frank gently eased his hard-on into my puckered little butt-hole. I thrust my butt-cheeks hard up against Frank's thighs, and purred contentedly.

The Dean pinched one young man's face, and smiled. "THAT is what Greek means, my dear boy!" She then lifted her skirt, bent over, and invited the guy to enter her own ass. Which he did, with great enthusiasm.

"Can I start on our commission tonight, by painting YOU, Dean?" I smiled.

I'm sure the Dean thought I was going to sketch her getting her ass royally fucked by this college sophomore. So she seemed surprised when I didn't dip the brush in paint.

"NOW who's being naive, Dean?" I chuckled, as I let the bristles of the brush delicately explore all over the insides of her sweet, moist pussy, while she bucked her ass hard against the toga-clad stud. "How do you like THIS way of getting painted, Dean?"

Loud moans were her only reply now.

"Let's make this party TRULY international, Patty!" Frank smiled. "How about a little FRENCH to go with the Dean's Greek?" And with that, he slid his lovely cock past my lips, and my tongue French-kissed my man's hard-on, while I continued to paint the Dean's interior with my brush, and while she continued to thoroughly enjoy her loving Greek treatment from that sophomore.

A female classmate stepped up behind me, and slid two fingers into my horny pussy from behind. "How about some Russian (rushin') hands and Roman (roamin') fingers, to go WITH all this French and Greek?" she giggled.

"Welcome to the United Nations!" I grinned, between my moans of pure delight.

 

[catlover]

Frank

Classes were over, and college let out for the summer. My contract was over, but Patty and I wee basking in the glow of our art show where we cleared a bundle, and made a loittle moiney for a feew of our students too, plus hving a lot of fun.
We dressed for the evening at the Deans house, as tonight was the nigt nwe were supposed to be thee to discuss he commissioned paintings we were to do for her.

Se greeted us at the door wearing only a skimpy robe, and immedately informed us that here (as at our art show) her house rules would prevail and there would be no clothes

We were shown in to a convenient guest room and we undressed and kissed each other, reaffirming our committment to fidelity. Nothing would be done except oral sex. No fucking anyone else, as before. Returing to the front hall, next to the Dean with er shapey body but ugly face, was a fa bald headed guy with a moustache and a short fat coc who immedately hit on Patty. He didnt get far, but his wife the Dean, went to her knees and started sucking me so there wasnt much Patty could do but duplicate the maneuver at which she was so talented.

After just a few sucks, my partner rose, saying she didnt want me to cum yet. Patty did likewise leaving him with a hard-on spurting onto the carpet, as we were led into the parlor and asked what our plans were for the summer. We informed them that we wanted to open an art studio and art gallery, specialzing in erotic art. The Dean immediately announced that she would be a patron and they would finance the venture, "wouldnt we dear", she asked her husband, adding that otherwise there would be no more sex. All he cxould do was acquiesce, and then she announced that they owned an appropriate building for which there would be no rent, provided she had access whenever she wanted.

I knew what that meant, and wondered how Patty would handle it when the Dean wanted me to fuck her, which she made totally obvious.

As we drank our first drinks, the fat guy kept moving in on Patty, and she kept moving away as more guests arrived, which was convenient Soon it evolved into an orgy similar to that at our art show, but we met lots of people, Patty sucked lots of cocks, and we had a fistful of commissions and sketches of potential paintings in hand when we left early to go relieve our horniness with each other, and plan our new business.

 

[patford31769]

Patty

The fat guy kept hitting on me, and the dean kept hitting on Frank. So far, neither of us was interested. I knew that we loved each other too much now to be tempted, and even if either us were to give in to temptation and cheat, it would be just worthless, meaningless sex, and would not feel NEARLY as good as the sex powered by true love that Frank and I have now.

I knew that if either or both of us ever did stray, we would instantly regret it, because it would be just physical, without the love behind it that tuns sex from boring and mechanical to spectacular. But I also knew that if one or both of us ever did stray, our love was strong enough to survive it, to forgive each other, and to continue our love and lust for each other undimished, or maybe even stronger for having overcome it.

And now it looked as if, thanks to the dean, Frank and I were to be partners not just in life and in love, but in business as well, co-owning our very own erotic art gallery, financed by the dean, and displaying Frank's and my original artwork, inspired by our actual sex lives.

My life was getting better and better each and every day!

 

[catlover]

Frank

A we made love, we talked about the propsition hat was before us. We both knew that the deal inclkuded sex with the Dean and her husband. Neither of us were abit interested in that, but the offer was too good to refuse We wanted the art gallery and studio and there was no way we could afford it or even borrow the money we needed to finance it.

So, we agreed that we would have to do whatever we had to do, and if that was their demand, so be it. It didnt mean anything to us personsally, and we wee both broad minded enough to accept what had to be. Many kisses and cums later we fell asleep together, and were awakened by the phone ringing in the morning

It was the Dean. It seems we had left the paintbrush there last night and she wanted to return it, and show us the building they had in mind for us. We made a date for 1 PM, and she arrived right on time

The first thing she wanted to know was "what's the deal on the paintbrush? What were you doing to me last night?", she asked
Patty.

That led to telling her the story of my painting still on my wall behind the little curtain. We showed it to her, and made the mistake of having told her that the model had a cunt full of cum when it was being modeled for me.

She said she wanted one of herself that way, and imedialtly undessed and took such a pose on the couch, expecting me to come service her with the paintbrush. Patty just took a color phote of nher, and we explained that we had plenty of sketches from the one I had painted forst of the model, and the next one of Patty that was sold at the art show. I quoted her a price of $10,000 and she didnt even blink. She said it would be her Christmas present for her husband, and I knew it would be ready a long time before that because we wanted te money as soon as possible.

We left to see the bulding. It was perfect. A two story brick building on a busy street, it had just been vacated by a carpet retailer. It had a large front showroom and a back office and bathroom on the first flooe, and a large open second florr we could ise for classes or a studio and storage. The Dean produced a written one year lease agreement that we read carefully, and it called for rental in tha amount of "services rendered"

We asked what that meant, and she said it had been a big fight with her husband, but it meant he had sex privileges with Patty. I looked at her, and she turned beet red. We looked at each other but she didnt say anything but took the pen and signed the lease.

Then the Dean took us home, saying from now on, her name was Jean and her husband was John. W started painting her picture, and were havig fun until the phone rang again. It was John, wanting to know when Patty was going to pay the rent, and would we like to come to their house again tonight for dinner.

 

[patford31769]

Patty

The dean, now calling herself Jean, and her husband alias John, were basically asking Frank and me to literally prostitute ourselves to them, if we wanted our new erotic art gallery. So John seemed an apt name for him now, since I would be sleeping with him for money!

Neither Frank nor I were happy with this arrangement, but we half-heartedly convinced ourselves that it was just business, it had nothing to do with the loving relationship between Frank and me.

When I was alone with the Dean's short, fat, bald husband "John" in their guest bedroom, he did absolutley nothing to put me in a sexual mood. How ironic, I thought. Frank, the mere sight of whom always heats up my passion, always takes the time and care to slowly stoke my fire, because he loves me, even though I would eagerly jump his bones even WITHOUT all that foreplay. And yet this John guy, who would NEED to put a lot of effort into getting me even remotely interested, wanted to just jump right into it now. Truly ironic!

First, he didn't even want to have us undress each other, which always helps to set the mood. He just wanted me to strip as he watched. He didn't even want me to strip slowly, sensuously. He wanted me to take everything off in one swift motion, so he could see my naked as soon as possible. It was not at ALL romantic or sexy!

Then he yanked off all his clothes in like, half a second. I could barely even see what he had between his legs. It was about 3 inches long and half an inch across (we're talking diameter, not circumference). It was basically about the size of one of those little brekfast-sausage links you buy in the supermarket dairy case, and just about as soft and flexible. I could see now why the Dean so wanted my Frank's 9-inch stud-pole, if THIS is what she must settle for every night! Size might not matter to some extent, I mean 7 inch or 10 inch doesn't matter much really, but THIS was ridiculous!

As if things weren't bad enough, "John" just pushed me down on my back and tried to enter me. Frank always slowly kisses my toes, ankles, legs, knees and thighs, then spends at least 30 minutes slowly kissing and licking all over the outside and inside of my pussy. With this guy short, fat, bald, and miscroscopically-endowed, he should have been doing everything he could to get me at least a LITTLE bit interested. But he just climbed on top of me and wanted to push his three-inch mini-weenie into me with absolutely NO foreplay.

I had brought a condom with me, and I tore open the packet now, insisting that he wear it before he enters me. He didn't want to.

"I love Frank," I told John, "and if ANYONE is going to get me pregnant, it's going to be HIM! Certainly not YOU!"

With Frank, I always playfully unroll the condom down his massive cock, usually with my hands but sometimes with my mouth, and that just builds the heat between us even MORE. Desperately trying to get into having sex with John, I put the condom in my mouth and tried to slip it down over him while giving him a blow-job. But he impatiently pulled the condom out of my mouth and slid it over his tiny cock himself.

This John has NO romance or sexuality in his soul.

He pressed his tiny cock up against my pussy lips, but by this time, I was so turned-off and disgusted with him, that my pussy lips were locked so tightly shut that even his mini-weenie couldn't enter me now!

"Play NICE, Patty!" John hissed, "or NO art gallery for YOU!"

I reached down and gently opened my pussy lips with my fingers, and he slipped his 3 inches into me. I just lay there, stiff and wooden, hoping he would shoot off into his condom quickly, and get off of me.

"Make some NOISE, Patty!" John commanded.

In a flat monotone, devoid of all emotion, I mumbled, "Oh baby, oh baby."

"You can do better than THAT!" John snarled angrily.

Oh, it was porn-movie fake orgasms he wanted! I'd never done that, since with Frank the orgasms were POWERFULLY real, but I figured I could fake it at least as well as an untalented porno slut. So I closed my eyes and thought of the movie When Harry Met Sally. I copied Meg Ryan's every move. First the hand in the hair and the soft "ooh" like I had gas or something. Then a few Oh's, until I was tilting my head back and panting breathlessly, "Uhhh! Uhhh! Oh yeah, right THERE!" The whole time, I was thinking, "So come already, and get the hell OFF of me!" It was absolutely horrid!

I could barely even feel him in me, and I didn't feel him come. But he let out a loud "Uhhhh!" and climbed off me. He pulled th condom off his minio-dick, and there was about half a teaspoon of come inside, so I guess he really did have an orgasm.

"I'm just curious, John," I said, "How could you have an orgasm with a woman you don't love, who doesn't love you, who is madly head-over-heels in love and lust with another man, and who doesn't even want to BE here, and is doing this just out of financial blackmail?"

John seemed shocked. "You mean, you DIDN'T come?"

"You wanted fake orgasm," I laughed, "and that's what you GOT!"

"I'm sorry, Patty. I behaved like a pig. You wanted my money and your art gallery SO much, I thought I could force you to give me what I wanted in return. But that's what I did, FORCE you! I feel like I just raped you!"

"In a way, you did, John!"

"I am SO sorry, Patty!" he cried. "Can you EVER forgive me?"

I hugged him and let him cry on my shoulder. "Wow!" I laughed. "You mean there's a REAL human being in there somewhere after all! If you had shown me this side of you earlier, I might not have been QUITE so resistant to you. Don't get me worng, I still love Frank and I never want to cheat on him, but it might not have been QUITE so horrid for me if you had behaved like a real human, like the person you're showing to me NOW!"

"It's just that you are SO beautiful, Patty," John cried, "I thought I wanted to POSESS you. But now I know how wrong and selfish I've been to you. How can I ever make this up to you?"

"You can give Frank and me the art gallery."

"Done. You've certainly MORE than earned it!"

"And you can stop pressuring me for loveless, passionless sex like this, EVER again!"

"Done. But I have ANOTHER idea how to make this up to you!"

John set his head down in my still-bare lap, and slid his tongue out, against my pussy lips.

"Close your eyes, Patty, and imagine that I am Frank. I want only to pleasure YOU now, Patty. After what I just did to you, I feel I owe you that."

I was about to protest, but then John licked all around my pussy, and then over the hood hiding my clit. I did as John had said, and pictured Frank eating me out, and I started to get more into this. His tongue pushed my pussy-lips apart, and slid inside. And slid and slid and slid, deeper into me than ANY tongue ever had. He slowly licked at my clit, my G-spot, my inner walls, just EVERYWHERE.

"John, if you have THIS long and skilled a tongue," I moaned while squirming in pleasure beneath his amazing tongue, "why on EARTH didn't you use it on me BEFORE you fucked me?"

"Shhh!" John whispered. "I'm not John, I'm Frank. And this is not about the past, about MY pleasure. This moment is only all about YOUR pleasure now, sweet, pretty Patty."

His tongue had me panting and shaking and squirming and moaning now, and in my mind, this WAS Frank, and I honestly completely forgot I was with John. I reached out to wrap my hand around the 9-inch cock of the man I love, but John slapped my hand away. "Remember, YOUR pleasure, not MINE, Patty!" John reminded me.

When I had touched John's cock, it seemed longer than the three inches he had fucked me with. So I had to open my eyes and see for myself. John's cock was now about 7 inches long and about an inch and a half in diameter. Not as big as Frank, but still pretty respectable.

"How is this POSSIBLE, John?" I asked.

"Simple. I couldn't really get fully hard, forcing myself on a woman I don't love. But now I'm imagining I'm eating-out my wife, and that thought has me UNBELIEVABLY hard!"

"So I SEE!" I moaned as he resumed eagerly licking my clit and my G-spot. Maybe the Dean is luckier in love than I thought she was. But then why her horniness over my boyfriend? Oh, yeah, because he's a VERY hot hunk, that's why, the same reason that I always want Frank!

I was just about to come at last, when John withdrew his tongue.

"Oh, GIVE me more tongue, Frank!" I moaned like the uncontrollable slut I was now becoming, still pretending that John was Frank. But for a minute or two, there was no response. I feared to open my eyes, to see what had happened, because I thought it could be something horrible.

"EAT my pussy, Frank!" I moaned again. "PLEASE!"

"Of COURSE, baby!" and John's tongue slid back into me. Only the tongue felt somehow different now. That voice sounded deeper than John's now, too, but since I was pretending that John was Frank, I figured that my hearing John speak in Frank's much-deeper voice was just my fevered imagination now. I wanted to open my eyes to check for sure, but I didn't want to spoil the fantasy by opening my eyes, and being disappointed to find John, and not Frank, still eating my pussy. But somehow I decided to open my eyes anyway.

"Good evening, my sweet Patty!" Frank groaned right into the wide-open cavern of my pussy, between loud slurps.

I wrapped my arms and legs around Frank's hunky naked body. "It IS a good evening, now that YOU'RE here, Frank!" I cooed, as I spurted gallons of my pussy juice all over the face of the man I truly and deeply love!

"But what happened to John?"

"He went back to his wife, the Dean, who had me in her arms when he entered the room. He told me that you made him realize that he belongs with the woman he loves, not cheating on her in a loveless, passionless rape of you. So he asked me to go to you, to take over eating you out, he said MY face belongs between your legs, not HIS! Did he really rape you, Patty?"

"Not really," I replied. "But I was so NOT into it, that John said he FELT as if he had raped me."

"Jean told me pretty much the same thing," Frank agreed. "She sucked my cock, rode it eagerly, but try as she might, she couldn't get me hard. I told her I love only my Patty, and I couldn't get into cheating on the woman I love. She said she felt like she was raping me."

"I guess we both really blew it!" I frowned. "Our love for each other got in the way of our dream of our own erotic art gallery."

"Not at ALL!" Frank grinned. "Jean and John told me they had never SEEN a couple so in love, so devoted, so faithful to each other, and it really TOUCHED them! Ssssooo...ta-DA!" And with that, Frank handed me a check from Jean and John, in the amount of one million dollars, to get our erotic art gallery started. And then Frank handed me the deed to the building that Jean and John had shown to us, signed over to Frank and me.

I hugged and kissed Frank, and cried ecstatically. Frank and I then spent the rest of the night in Jean and John's guest bedroom, fucking, sucking, 69ing, hugging, kissing, laughing, and crying together. Through the wall, we could hear Jean and John licking, sucking, fucking, and moaning the night away, and we both were glad now that we had rekindled the spark between them.

 

[catlover]

Frank

Jean served us a very nice dinner. There was no talk of sex, just business and our plans. John was an intelligent fellow, and i knew I had a lot to learn from him, but was afraid under the circumstances to ask many questions, although it was made obvious that it was his money, his house, and his building we were dealing with

Then Jean served coffee and brought in a dessert tray. It was a big silver tray covered with a canopy cover so we couldnt see what was in there. After we slurped our coffee, she came to me and held out the tray. I uncovered it by removing the silver canopy, and the only thing on the tray were two condoms. One red and one green.

I looked at her and took the green one. Then she went to Patty who took the other one, and put it in her bra for later.

Too soon the time came, and Jean came to me and held out her hand. She led me to the stairs, leaving Patty and John at the table. As we went up I got my last glimpse of my lover with tears in her eyes, looking at me and waving good bye or good luck or good sex or whatever.

Jean took me to her master bedroom, where she immediately stripped. As I had said easrlier, she had a nice body, well preserved and trim and not at all unattractive. If I didnt have Patty I wouldnt have minded having an affair with her even at her age. As I started to undress, she sat on the bed and started talking about herself and her marriage.

She told me it was a loveless marriage, and she only married him for his immense amount of money. They had sex on their honeymoon and very little since.

John owned the college, and endowed it strictly as a way to get sex with young women that didnt have their tuition money. He interviewed each female applicant, and if they didnt come across with sex they weren't accepted, no mattrer what their talents or academic record. It raised some eyebrows, but every time someone complained he bought them off and paid their tuition elsewhere, but most women put out. He stayed in the background, hiring the college president and faculty

After a few years of this Jean got him to appoint her Dean of Women, so she could at least keep a little track of what was going on. She had one affair after another, including my brother Dave, which was how he got the job here, and how I got th fill-in position when he had to leave.

Then I asked if Patty had an affair before with John, and she said no, he was sick that week and she pushed through a bunch of applications when he wasnt around.

Then I heard voices from the next room. I couldn't tell what was said, but I clearly heard John speak to Patty amd heard her response. He said something like "Play Nice" and she said something like "Oh baby", so I thought she was eagerly fucking him.

We talked some more wit her sitting on the bed with her legs spread showing me her neatly trimmed cunt that we were about to paint a picture of, and i was also naked sitting on a chaise about ten feet away. We never did get any closer, except for a moment when she crawled over and sucked me a little, and then I got up and hugged her, just as suddenly the door opened and there was John, telling me to go to my lady and eat her pussy.

Then he said "wait a sec", and went to the desk and shuffled some papers, and had Jean sign somewhere. He handed them to me and said dont look at them until you are with Patty. I couldnt resist. As soon as I was out of the room I saw what they had done for us.

"Patty, lets get married right away. When we get the studio started we can do something to contribute to the college that brought us together. Maybe even coach outstanding students and give them a place to publicly display their work. But first, lets make love"

We spent ther rest of the night in their guest bed making love, and hearing noises from the other room. In the morning they burst in on us, and both of therm even looked better. John seemed to be more pleasant and mellow, and Jean was radiant

They joined us on the bed. Patty and John kissed, this time with feeling that looked a little like love, and Jean sucked my cock, this time with gusto that showed some promise. She swung around into a 69, saying something like "At least you dont have to look at my ugly face". as I ate her really pretty pussy I saw Patty out of the corner of my eye sucking john's cock too and soon they were in a 69 next to us

Soon I Whimpered "I'm about to come", and the other three all said together "so am I", and a foursome was born.

We got up in the morning and got dressed together, with Jean making a date to come over to pose that afternoon for her portrait.