Ryan, Paul, and Mary Ch. 03bysongnstory©
My friend Mary needed to get laid, but sex and love were so mixed up in her mind that she couldn't sleep with anyone, not even a caring friend. So, I invented a faceless persona -- Paul -- to satisfy both our needs. The first experience was . . . well, I've never forced myself on a woman, and that was harder to deal with than I had expected. The second opportunity for sex, while still in the guise of coercion, was on much better terms. She was willing, and, if you can believe it, the encounter was practically at her request.
The following week was hectic as the semester drew to a close. While Mary and I spent time together in study groups, I had no time and no real inclination to trot Paul out. But by the weekend, the stress of finishing projects and studying for finals was getting to me. It was time for a diversion. It was time to bring Paul out to play.
With the end of the semester coming up, the school left the botany lab open for students to get in their last-minute studying. On this drizzling evening I was in there around 5:00, before the after-dinner crowd made their appearance. I was pretty confident about the course material, but there was another reason to show up early. Each student had a drawer to keep notes and equipment in. Mary's now included two additional items: a sleeping mask and a folded piece of paper. The note read: "Here are your instructions. At precisely 9:00, you will be in your seat, completely naked except for the mask. You must be completely blind. You will do this regardless of whether there are any students in the room. If you fail to follow these instructions precisely, you will come to regret it."
Over a dozen others were rummaging through the specimens when Mary walked in. I was pretending to quiz myself on plant identification, while surreptitiously observing her walk to her chair. I watched her put down her pack, open the drawer. . . and freeze. After a moment, she pulled out the page and quickly closed the drawer before anyone could see the mask. As she read the short note, her cheeks flared scarlet.
* * * * *
Even the hardcore students started packing up around 8:20. I put away my papers when I saw my friend Rob reach for his backpack. Saying goodnight to the group in general (and not even glancing at Mary), I walked out with him, sharing complaints about the upcoming exam. We separated in the parking lot. I got in my car, flipped on the radio, and settled in to wait. After five minutes, three more students walked outside. At 8:40 the last one left. It was misting rain. I waited. She didn't appear. At five 'til, I stepped out of the car.
The hall was empty, and quiet except for the hum of lights, the quiet whoosh of the heaters, and the steady squeegee of my wet shoes on the tiles. Reaching the door, I waited a few breaths until my watch said 9:00. Then I cranked the handle and opened the door.
She sat there at her station, her clothes neatly folded on the chair beside her. Her eyes were covered by the mask. I observed her for several seconds. Even from here I could see her trembling. She jerked as the door thudded shut, and again when I flipped the lock with a decisive click.
I shed my clothes and piled them on a workbench, then padded to her. In spite of the heating system, the room was cool; the linoleum felt cold against my feet. Leaning forward, nose almost in her hair, I breathed in, smelling scent of her skin, her hair, and the musk of her arousal which permeated the air. I blew gently on her neck, eliciting a shiver. I wanted to be gentle, thorough, discovering all the sensations I could give her. I wanted to kiss her, feel her wrap around me. But my role up to now was as a predator, a taker. To change now might ruin everything. So I deepened my voice and assumed the persona of Paul.
"You follow directions well. Although I wonder what would have happened if Marty had stayed, just a few more minutes." I lightly traced a finger along her collarbone. "What would you have done?"
She spoke softly, like a timid student who wasn't sure if the professor was being rhetorical. "I would have. . . done what I was told." If my cock was erect before, her answer made it stand rigid and hard. I waited for six breaths to be sure my voice wouldn't betray the sudden rush of excitement. "That's good. You are learning your place in this."
I put my hands on her shoulders, then slid them down to cup her firm breasts. I gently squeezed, hefted, and felt their weight. I saw her lips grow tight and her face darken as she stifled a moan.
"It's alright, Mary. Tonight, I want to hear you." I was immediately rewarded by a shuddering moan as she let me know how she felt. My hands roamed across her skin, sliding along the curve of her waist and hip, dipping in the hollow by her collarbone, delving through the damp fur of her cleft. Her musk intoxicated, making it harder for me to concentrate on anything but getting on with the fucking.
"Please," she whispered, as one wet finger left the furry nest and traveled back north across her abdomen. Her plea reminded me that Paul, not Ryan, was supposed to be in charge of this game. My hands stopped their perambulations.
"I'm enjoying the feel of your body, Mary. Do you think I'm doing this for your pleasure?"
"No," she said after only a slight hesitation. "I'm sorry."
"That's better. Remember who I am, and why you're here. When I'm ready to take you, I'll tell you what to do."
I resumed my roving, and her whimpers and moans began anew. I didn't hurry, holding back my increasingly impatient body through force of will. Eventually, her panting warned that her climax was not far off. I decided I couldn't wait any more. I straightened and stepped back.
"Stand up." When she complied -- however unsteadily -- I pulled her chair out of the way.
"Now, reach forward. Grip the power stand with both hands, and don't let go." She groped until she found raised surface on the table top, and gripped it firmly. I spared a moment to admire her body: her firm legs; backside slightly in the air; her pert breasts hanging down, the nipples barely touching the black table surface. Mary's forehead rested against the table as well. Her breathing was steady; there was no fear in her, only anticipation.
It was time. I moved in behind her, and set the tip of my cock at her open, inviting entrance. I left it there a long moment while my hands gripped her hips to keep her from pushing back against me. Then, I thrust my full length into her. She wailed as her body spasmed from her immediate climax. I gritted my teeth as she clamped down on my shaft, bringing me closer to my own release.
She quieted, and when her breathing was again regular, I found Paul had a slightly sadistic streak.
"I see," I said in the disapproving tone of a professor disappointed by an inept student's answer. "You let yourself have gratification so quickly? Maybe you don't really understand after all. I think we're done here." I began to pull out.
"No!" Mary's head lifted from the table. Her voice was frantic. "I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean for it to happen. Paul, please....en-...enjoy my body." When I paused my withdrawal, she continued, quickly but without the note of desperation. "I... I know you have needs. Please, use my body to satisfy them. Take what...what you need. I won't resist you."
And I couldn't resist that. I pushed back in, and began a steady rhythm that would bring me my release in short order. Leaning forward, I placed my hands on the table against her sides, so I could feel her breasts rocking across my fingers. She grunted with each thrust.
I felt the tension crescendo, and grabbed her hips hard as I pounded my last thrusts into her. I saw the muscles rippled with the impacts, heard the slaps of skin against skin, heard Mary cries rise and join into an undulating wail, and then everything narrowed to the eruption in my cock.
As my vision cleared and my breathing steadied, I ran one hand along Mary's back with the tenderness of the beginning of a sensual back massage. I felt her legs trembling, so I slipped out of her and told her to sit. She found a chair and flopped into it, still breathing heavily. From another chair, I watched her silently as she came down from our coupling. In the cool room, the heat of her exertion rapidly dissipated. Her nipples were erect from the chill rather than arousal, and her tired muscles trembled from cold as much as from exhaustion.
I wasn't ready to end it. In fact, I really, truly wanted to take her again, not as a rutting dominator, but as a proper lover. But that would ruin everything for her, wouldn't it? Of course, Mary knew it was me, but there were enough veils and deceptions to let her fool herself -- so I hoped, anyway. How much further could I go to satisfy our needs and still keep her heart safe?
"Paul?" I looked back at her. Her legs and arms were crossed. She was chilly, sitting on a chair seat slicked with our combined juices, and waiting for my instructions. I made my decision.
"I'm not done with you," I said, my voice deeper again. "You really do have an attractive body. I'm surprised more men haven't been given the opportunity to enjoy it. You've been stingy with your favors, Mary. I'm going to enjoy what others have missed." I paused, my voice affecting a slight weariness. "Of course, I'm a little tired now. I'll expect you to do more of the work this time." I paused to gauge her reaction.
"What do you want me to do?" she spoke with equanimity, as a servant accepting of any task given her by the master. No suspicion or feigned fear, just a willingness to play her part.
"Stand up. Come to me. Keep your hands at your sides." She took a few hesitant steps towards my voice until she bumped my knee. Her lovely breasts were just above eye level, so with my hands I explored the contours, the weight, the softness of them. Her breaths came a little faster now, and I saw her hands twitching to reach out to me. The strong smell of sex was augmented by a fresher musk as her excitement renewed. I trailed one hand down between her breasts, along her abdomen, and into the still-trimmed triangle where her legs came together.
"Don't squirm," I admonished as I slipped one finger into her slit. Pushing it slowly in and out, I soon had what I wanted. I pulled out my dripping wet finger, held her head with my other hand, and drew the drenched digit above her upper lip. She wrinkled her nose at the pungent aroma from the slimy trail. I hoped the strong odor would mask everything else, including my own male scent. For I had determined I wasn't settling for doggie style this time, and I didn't want her lizard-brain recognizing Ryan through the endorphins. Before she could ask what I had done that for, I resumed her instructions.
"Now, kneel before me. Pleasure my cock and balls with your hands and mouth. Get me in the mood to take you again."
Leaning on my legs for support, she dropped to her knees, and then slid her hands up my thighs until they met at my mostly-flaccid member. One hand gently stroked it while the other hand fondled the pouch below it. I responded, and after only a minute I was fully erect. She continued to stroke me until I put my hand behind her head. Mary got the message and leaned over, taking the tip in her mouth. I don't think giving head was her favorite activity, or perhaps she didn't like tasting herself on it. Whatever the reason, Mary stroked the shaft with her hand, but only held the head in her mouth. Her ministrations felt good, but I was soon ready to move on.
"Good. Now, come up and straddle my thighs." She did so, and I immediately attacked her breasts with my hands and lips, enjoying her shuddering sigh at first contact. I also relished the texture of her smooth skin contrasting with her rougher-yet-tender areolas, and the taste of salt on her flesh. My need, though not as sharp this time, grew more insistent.
"Now," I growled as I leaned back, "impale yourself." She obediently -- no, eagerly -- rose, reached down to position my member, and sank moaning until she again rested on my thighs.
"Begin." With her feet on the ground and her hands on my shoulders, she raised herself and then let gravity pull her down. Slow up, fast down. Her hard nipples dragged against my chest as she moved, and her panting breath filled one ear. I ran my hands along her sides, felt the muscles tensing in her legs, and grasped the sides of her bouncing breasts.
After some minutes, I could tell she was tiring. While I was enjoying the experience, I needed to take a more active part in the coupling if I was going to spark a second climax anytime soon. I put my arms around her, holding her still, and ran one hand down to support her butt. I clenched once to thrust into her, and then stood with her still impaled on me. I lay Mary across the table, leaned over, and began driving into her.
Her legs rose and wrapped around my waist; her small hands spanned the sides of my chest. I loved the way her breasts swayed beneath me, the way her lips parted as she sucked in the cool air, the warm flush of her skin that signaled her mounting excitement. I could feel the tension building in me as well.
"Mary...I'm... close!" Her hands gripped my sides.
"Please... take what you need..."
I gripped her waist and drove as deep as I could, and felt the dam burst. Moments later, as I rose back to the surface of awareness, I heard her own keening wail tapering off.
The room was quiet save for our panting. Her arms dropped to her side; her legs hung uncomfortably off the table, though she seemed in no hurry to move. I wanted to take her in my arms, to kiss her and hold her through the afterglow. It was all I could do to resist the urge. When my lungs were no longer laboring, I spoke in a quieter version of Paul's authoritative tone.
"Mary. You exceeded my expectations. I meant what I said. I feel sorry for the men who don't know what this beautiful body can offer. You really should take lovers -- as equals. Then you might never have to submit to me again." I placed my hand against her warm cheek, and felt her push against it. I sighed. The time had come to end this encounter.
"Alright. I am going to dress. When you hear the door close, count to fifty. Then you may take off your mask and dress. The rest of the night is yours." I released her and stepped to my clothes. While I dressed, she sat up but made no other move. I wondered what she was thinking. . . or perhaps she merely listened to the rustle of fabric on skin.
Standing at the door, I looked back at the naked woman, sitting on the table's edge, head slightly cocked as if still focused on the sound of my departure. "Goodnight," I whispered, then flicked the lock and let myself out. I hurried into the night, wondering if the pouring rain wash might away some of reek of sex. I didn't look back.
* * * * *
That was the last time the three of us -- me, Paul, and Mary -- were together. The semester ended, and Mary went for a graduate degree in another state. The last time I saw her was at an after-finals party at a friend's apartment. She motioned to me and then headed outside. In the relative quiet of the parking lot, she turned.
"I just wanted to let you know how much it meant, having you for a friend. When I came back to school after the divorce, I thought I wouldn't fit in. I was older than the other students, I'd made big, stupid mistake, and I was used goods." She held up a hand, forestalling my denial, and hurried on. "I know you accepted me the first time we met, though I didn't let myself realize it. Because of you, I don't just have acquaintances, I have friends."
"I saw you as a friend worth having," I replied softly but with conviction.
In the parking lot's uneven light, I saw her mouth twist. She reached out and I pulled her to me. She held me tight, as if throwing all her being into her fierce embrace. I returned it, measure for measure. After a full minute, she eased her grip but didn't relinquish it.
"I think my heart will be safe," she whispered, "for one kiss." In response, I leaned my head forward. It was a gentle kiss, but it said more than she would allow herself to say out loud. When our lips parted, she rested her head on my shoulder for a few moments more before letting go of me.
"I'm going home. It's been a long week." Her gaze dropped to the side as she fished a folded envelope out of her purse. "If... if you happen to see Paul... could you give him this?"
The shift from open and intimate to awkward took me a little by surprise. She was at ease with our friendship, but not with the physical intimacy we shared. Or perhaps her heart was struggling to keep the fiction of the act separated from the reality. I took the paper. "I'll get it to him. Although I don't know if he's coming back to school next year."
She nodded. After a moment, she again looked me in the eye. "Goodbye...Ryan...my friend."
"Goodbye, Mary. Be well. Be happy."
* * * * *
There were other friends to console or congratulate, and other goodbyes to make. It was after midnight when I got to my place. With my heart racing, I ripped open the envelope and extracted the note. It read:
I didn't want you. I hated you. I hated myself for letting you. I wasn't sure which hate was stronger. But when you came to me the second time, I realized how I was coming to need you. You were giving me something I craved, and protecting me from what I was afraid of. I've forgiven you, and now that it's over, I can bring myself to thank you for what you've done. I think in the future I will be more trusting of my friends, and more willing to follow my heart.
I hope that I will never need you to find me again.