Ch. 11 "Turn, Turn, Turn..."

I

SEX EDUCATION (6 CREDITS)

My name's Ursula. I'm the local librarian, and a pillar of the community by day. No glamour girl for sure. The glasses I've always worn haven’t done much for my average looks, but my social life really hasn’t suffered. I’ll be 34 in May, and for the past twenty years I've enjoyed the rapt attention of several older men, who frankly were eager to play with my C-cup breasts. My husband Carl is ga-ga about them and my legs, which are large and shapely--especially my thighs. When our daughter is elsewhere, he likes me to wear nothing about the house except one of his T-shirts. If friends or salespeople drop by, I'm trained to say, "Excuse my attire. We're being casual today." He's encouraged me to swim nude when invited to the pool of our next-door neighbors. It's done wonders for our sex life.

Before Carl, I had six sexual partners. My neighbor Roger was my romantic first—polite and passionate. We really didn’t do much except in my dreams, but I lost him for sure later when he became the steady friend of a senior, Lianne Parker, who had the biggest breasts in sschool.

My own senior year I saw a good deal of Ron, four years older than I, who ironically had dated Lianne for a time. He was a mechanic's assistant at our gas station and took a great interest in how my car was running. He was awfully good with his hands. On our dates, I made it a point to be braless because he was such an aggressive lover, always having condoms with him. And I let him fuck me whenever he wanted to, even though I knew he went out with other girls. He was more a sex partner than a lover; but, for some reason, I enjoyed his control.

At my small coed college, I was less attracted to my classmates than to the handsome lab assistant in my biology course--Paul, who was then twenty-five. He had opened many more books than vaginas, and I gathered he'd never "gone all the way." At the start of our relationship I was instructing the instructor. Our seminar took place in his single room in the dormitory of which he was the proctor. There we could be completely naked and make unhurried love. Paul's lovely big cock--a seven-incher like Ron's--was so responsive to my hand play, and he himself so controlled and intelligent, that I wanted to feel him bare in me if he could pull out in time. Paul said it was called coitus interruptus and that he'd be willing to try it. That ultimate closeness I savored, and I resolved that the man I loved should always fuck me bare.

Perhaps it was sad that my adolescent quest for sex had been without love. It had been educational, however; I felt pangs of passion with Roger, Ron's use of my body taught me about rough sex; and with Paul I practiced the ways of tenderness and intimacy--imagining throughout that he was the man I loved.

The man I loved was 150 miles away, twelve years my senior, and married to another woman. Besides being very sexy, he was terribly nice, and he loved me. I was truly in love with Mr. Carl Gillett, my high school history teacher. New to the school my senior year, he was also my tennis coach. I wanted so much to please him both on the courts and in class. Our physical contact was understandably restrained, but eyes and body language can communicate affectionate regard. Several times, the coach massaged my hamstrings, which I told him tightened up in practice. I was thrilled to see the outline of his hardening penis while he worked over both my bare legs. Then in November we had a wonderful long kiss and tasted each other. At the winter prom, which he and his wife chaperoned, during two dance numbers I felt his hardness against me.

In class my body language included a seemingly inadvertent parting of my bare knees to lure his vision. As part of my spring wardrobe I bought two shirts that were not see-through exactly, but their light silken material could permit the viewer to see the darker shade of my nipples. So beneath those shirts I decided not to wear bras, which also mask the contours of my firm breasts, which come to lengthy points that naturally rise outward. I knew this choice of attire would be obvious to everyone in school, but few would be offended. Knowing that both guys and girls found my tits attractive, I've adopted styles that display their prominence and jiggle. I get pleasure, even now, sixteen years later, from looks of appreciation.

On my braless days Carl's gaze was markedly warm and moist. I was rewarded as twice we had secret dates, during which Carl played with my bare tits to our exquisite pleasure. We did not talk about a serious future for us as a couple; nonetheless the letters I received at college told of his rich wife's disenchantment with his "dead end career"--which to him was full of challenge and reward. In return, I owed him the truth of my pleasures of sexual intimacy with Paul, whereupon his response was blessedly encouraging and supportive. "I want you to know," he wrote, "that my love for you is even strengthened to know that your passionate nature is being fulfilled with a good lover during this period when we are apart. I know that active sex is important for you; and I find it very arousing to think about you and Paul."

It was so nice to make love to Paul freely out from under a cloud of infidelity. He was my beloved's surrogate, one whom I could trust to withdraw in a timely fashion. While I truly loved fucking him bare, I also sympathized with the interruptions that he so sweetly endured for me. When I told him as much, the young biologist proclaimed that, if I wanted to accommodate his ejaculations within my vagina, it would be safe a week before my period, and also a week after. "I'm assuming your regularity. It's known as the rhythm method of birth control," he added.

"Oh, yes, Paul, I want you to come in my pussy when it's safe." It was my virgin Paul who became my first complete lover. When we calculated I was ovulating, we abstained with a few days at either end. Paul had been my innocent tyro in the beginning, but he studied hard and with experience became my mentor.

During my first three college years I was corresponding with Carl, who made two visits to see me--but not to fuck me--at a country motel. But we did everything else, enjoying the discovery of our previously withheld secrets. Carl's was unbelievably beautiful: semi-circumcised, eight inches tall, and nice and fat. Physically we both yearned to fuck, but Carl said it would be sweeter and more prudent after his divorce was final. Even in our psychological states, our sex was the greatest. On his first visit he introduced me to oral sex. My three orgasms were fantastic. Then I jerked him off. He loved my pumping his foreskin all the way down and up again; and when he came, the spurts were like no young guy's. They just kept coming, pelting and decorating my breasts.

At the point of his next visit, late sophomore year, I, at age twenty, had never sucked a boy's cock; but, once having seen and played with Carl's, I wanted him to fuck my mouth, if not my pussy. I jerked and teased him and then began sucking-- tracing the contours of his bulging glans with my tongue. It was great, at last, to experience his involuntary pumping and to swallow most of his ejaculate-- so perfect that it was Carl's!

As I’ve meant to convey, Carl was morally on the up-and-up. Actually the fooling around we had done while I was in high school, he said, had gone beyond the limits that he ordinarily set for himself. An aspect of Carl's honesty was his openness about his interest in my affair with Paul. As he was anxious to meet Paul, we all went out to dinner, and the guys liked each other very much. Paul had known about Carl practically from the beginning. He said it was very arousing to hear about my earlier experiences. And, of course, Carl was ever interested in our doings up at college. The two men eventually were satisfied for one to be my northern lover and the other, my southern lover.

Carl in certain respects was really aggressive. As masturbation was his only relief after he took a separate apartment, he proposed that we have telephone sex. I told him my access to a private phone was limited to Paul's room. Then he said, "Well, would you be agreeable to a threesome--courtesy of Ma Bell?" What a wild idea! And incredibly sexy! I had to see what Paul thought about it.

"Well--" he paused. "I love our sex. I live for your pleasure. If you want to, we could try it. It would be an interesting variation."

It was September of junior year that we started, haltingly, to make love over the phone. Paul, my mentor, finally came through with a master plan. Here is an example of how the sessions went.

"Good evening, Carl. It's Paul. Ursula and I wish you were here. From what she's told me, you're a super lover, and she can't wait to fuck you. Tonight she wants me to make love to her at your direction. What ... er ... Carl, Ursula wants to speak to you."

"Hi, darling," I say. "Where are you now? Oh, good. I want you to be completely naked. We are. We just showered and are sitting on Paul's bed thinking of you, and we both want you to fuck me tonight; so please have your nice big cock ready to shoot when Paul starts to come in me. It's safe tonight. O, Paul, he says he's got the Vaseline jar at his bedside. What would you like to do first, darling? What? Okay. Paul, take the phone."

"Yes. She's unbelievably beautiful. She's removed her glasses. I'm now standing at the foot of the bed. She's touching her lovely long tits, examining them. Pluck your nipples, dear. She's spreading her legs. Oh, yes, they are lovely and big, especially her thighs. She's teasing her clitoris and playing with her fleshy lips; they're pink and swelling. Oh, she's parting them with both hands. Yes, she's masturbating seriously now. Her big thighs are parted wide and quivering. Here, Ursula, take the phone." [Pause]

"Did you like that, darling?" I say. "Oh, yes, Paul is very big and hard. Oh, good! You're sucking my tits, dear. I love it. Oh, yes. Keep on doing it. He's tonguing down my belly. Finger fuck me, dear. Oh, Carl, did you ask Paul to suck me? I might go over. Oh, yes ... yes, maybe, I could. I'm ... Carl, I can't talk." And mostly it's heavy breathing and moaning until I come strongly. I suck Paul at Carl's direction and we fuck, both guys taking turns. The mouthpiece of the phone monitors our juicy union, and both guys come in me; and we, all three of us, are spent.

II FRATERNITY INITIATION

Our telephone games had to stop abruptly, as in December of my junior year, Paul landed a faculty appointment in California. It had been in the works, of course; so we bravely said good-bye, and he was gone.

In January, I dated a senior named Ed, with whom I had two classes. We kissed a lot and I was getting very horny. After all, I had had regular sex partners for the past five years! Consequently, Ed's invitation for dinner at his fraternity, three days after my periodic flow ceased, struck me as the promise of something big. I showered, got my brief panties on, and started to put on my bra, when I stopped. "What the hell--" I said. I put the bra away and got out one of those silky shirts with which I used to tease Carl back at school. I knew Ed admired my breasts.

At dinner I met his roommates, Jack and Ralph, really nice guys; so I was not completely crestfallen when they came up to the suite with us for after-dinner drinks. Ralph seemed to be the "personality kid" type, slight of build, with dark hair. Jack was a husky football player with thinning blond hair. While very polite, all three guys had big eyes for my breasts, which were quite visible. The plan for the evening had been to play bridge and drink some delicious rum drinks that Ed concocted.

The bridge did not go well; the guys couldn't keep their minds on the game, and the strong bulge in Ralph's pants certainly distracted me. He had had a hard-on all evening! Jack finally burst into speech: "This bridge game is a disaster! Anybody for strip rummy?" Ralph blurted, "Hey-hey!" They all looked at me. I looked across to Ed, who was beet-red. "Ursula? It's up to you," he said.

"Would you make me another drink, Ed?" His service was fast. Three uneasy but definitely horny guys waited. After four swallows, I made up my mind. I was awfully drunk and awfully horny. "Would you play by my rules?" I looked into the eyes of each.

"Oh, yeah," they all agreed heartily.

"Let's vote," Ed said. "All those in favor?" We all raised our hands. "Carried," he declared, amidst yelling and cheering.

"My rules!" I reminded them. "Can you lock that door?" It was locked with a clank. "We don't need cards. We've got the rummies here. Let's strip! ... I say, shoes and socks first. [Pause] What's next, Ed?"

He called for pants, whereupon I stepped out of my skirt. To be fair, I removed my half-slip at the same time. It took the others longer, and when they kicked free, one could cut the nervousness with a knife. Eyes were averted. My game was in trouble; the kids needed more direction. "My rules," I declared, "call for looking. I wanted you guys to see my legs fully bare. And I hope you like them." Thereupon I tied the front tails of my shirt high up my stomach. "And I'm interested in your legs and want to see as much of your cocks as I can through your underwear. Girls like to look too, you know." Ralph's erection was mammoth. I wanted to fuck very much, and I took pains to let my desire be read in my eyes and expressions as I reviewed the troops one-by-one. "What's next, Jack?"

"I thought you'd never ask," he said, smiling. "Sh-shirts!" And there we were in our jockies. I felt their adulation; it was wonderful. There were two erections on the way, and Ralph's beauty. My nipples became erect and, in response to Jack's open-mouthed gaze, I feathered them lightly with my fingers.

"Ursula," Jack whispered fervently, "you have the most beautiful tits!" I wanted so much for him to suck them.

"Do you guys like girls with big tits?" I teased. "I think Ed does."

They answered in chorus, "Oh, wow! Yes! Boy, do we!" My game was picking up. Of course, Ralph, bereft of self-consciousness, returned us to Paradise. I peeled off my flowered panties, the crotch of which was soaked. And three handsome cocks took on lives of their own. Ed had caught up with Ralph. Theirs were both circumcised and wagged out perhaps seven inches, about the size of Paul's; but I was most interested in Jack's, which was uncircumcised, longer than the others, and took a lovely curve to the left when erect. "The G-spot express!" was my inner reaction.

"What's next, Ursula?" panted Ralph.

"Well, you guys were good at playing my game. And now I'll play yours."

"How far can we go, Ursula?" inquired Ed. "You're such a good sport! What do you want?"

"Okay. While you make me another drink, the other guys can put the mattresses together on the bedroom floor, and then I want to belong to all three of you for the rest of the evening. As for this horny English major, she has taken birth control precautions, and she wants to be kissed, touched, sucked, and fucked--at least three times."

It was a lovely evening. Ed told me later that his two roomies had been virgins. That pleased me. I love being a guy's first; his expressiveness as he's pumping his come into my bare pussy is meaningful to me. And that acute pleasure was tripled for me that Thursday night.

Figuring back, I think our crowd scene was during the last week of January. I spent the weekend on billows of dreamy satisfaction. I still rated Carl and Paul as the greatest, but memories of the young guys were heady stimulation to my masturbation the following week. I don't believe I've ever felt as sexy. Late Friday afternoon I had showered and was slow to dress, as sometimes I like to stay naked for a bit. Seeing myself in our full-length mirror, I stopped. I looked pretty good. I was proud of my big thighs, which had so attracted Carl when I first appeared in my shorty tennis dress. This beautiful figure was what the boys had seen last Thursday night. I took a pose or two. I plucked my nipples out to see what Jack had seen. He'd liked my clit, too. And now I wanted to masturbate for him. I pulled up my desk chair and started for Jack, and the mirror. I was a minute or so short of my climax when, "Ursula!" My roommate Peggy burst through the door. "Ursula! ... Oh, Ursula, I'm sorry. But, hey, there's a guy down in the lounge asking for you. He's one cute hunk."

"Who could it be? God ... maybe Jack ... I hope,” I thought. “ Thanks, Peggy." I was the soul of frustration! I dressed, washed my hands again, and checked the mirror. I didn't look too bad. Less than a minute later--curious, anxious, ever ladylike--I entered the first floor lounge, and there was a broad smiling Carl Gillett. "Hallelujah!" was his greeting, "Free at last! My stuff is at the motel." We hugged and kissed, laughing. "I had to come up as soon as the divorce came through."

We fucked for two days. It was perfect timing! There was no coitus interruptus.

Carl and I--four months along--were quietly married in June. Little Cynthia was born November 6th, and at this writing is looking forward to making her dad's tennis team. Of course, there are boys in her life. Right now she has a crush on a sixteen-year-old neighbor, Teddy Wood, who's now home from prep school.

Turn ... turn ... turn.