Aristippus - Lucinda's Story

I soon felt the hand of one of the guys take my arm and slowly direct me to the bedroom. And as we inched our way toward the bed, Shelly never broke our kiss and crept along with me - step by backward step. Once my legs touched the mattress, whoever it was that was leading me, pushed us both over onto the bed, and Shelly followed me down, with her lips still tightly locked to mine.

I'm not sure exactly what happened next, but by the time Shelly and I finally separated, Stan and Nick were down to their underwear and were lying on the bed next to us. They were basically just watching, but occasionally one or the other would run their hands over me, silently implying that it was soon their turn.

Realizing the boys were on the bed, Shelly broke her kiss and sat up. I rolled onto my back and must have given my non-verbal consent. Because Shelly yanked her top off over her head, reached up under my dress, pulled my panties to my feet and tossed them to the floor. Then, with the wickedest smile I'd ever seen, she dropped her head between my legs and thrust her tongue as deep into me as she could get it.

I gasped for breath as she slid her hands under my butt and lifted my hips so that she could get even deeper. I had had my pussy eaten before, but never like this. And, of course, never by a woman. It was like she was starved for female flesh. I guess all of those nights I'd heard them in bed together just made her as horny for me as I was for joining them.

After about three or four minutes of the best pussy eating I had ever been a party to, I was just about to come. But I was afraid to, because I had to pee so bad, I could barely stand it. I was petrified that if I allowed myself an orgasm, I'd lose control and wet the entire bed. Squirming to get away from Shelly, I yelled, "I have to pee, I have to pee."

Shelly let me up, and I ran to the bathroom. Sitting on the pot, and very relieved to be relieving myself, I considered my current situation. I could run from the apartment screaming, or I could go to my room, close the door, and pretend none of this ever happened, or I could go back in there and join the party. Once my bladder was empty and I wiped myself dry, I decided on the latter. There was no way I could pretend this never happened. And to be honest, it was about the hottest experience of my life. So, while still sitting on the toilet, I loosened my dress and slipped it off over my head and laid it neatly over the side of the tub. Then reaching behind my back, I unsnapped my bra, and after letting it slip from my shoulders, laid it across the dress.

Walking back into the bedroom stark naked, there were the three amigos, also fully naked, laying on the bed side-by-side, all leaning against the headboard. They all had wicked smiles on their faces, as they anxiously awaited my return. Why none of them had to pee, I have no idea.

Shelly was in the middle, with a butt-naked guy on each side of her. It kind of reminded me of the three monkeys - hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil. Except that they were all smiling, they all had their hands on the thigh of the person next to them, and both boys had raging boners. I all most had to laugh; I wish I'd had a camera. But there was clearly an open invitation to join them; all I had to decide was - how?

I put my finger to my cheek, as if I was thinking. But I was actually just teasing them. Slowly I brought my finger down, and pointing directly at Shelly, said, "Out." She had already had me; it was now my turn to have two guys at once. And the thought of it had me so wet, I was all most dripping. She made a pouty face, but followed my instructions, rolled over Nick, and left the bed. Crawling into the gap between the guys, I quickly grabbed both boys by their twitching boners. Now with a dick in each hand, I began to slowly stroke.

I'd jacked off boys before, but never in stereo. This was my first time to have man meat in both hands. I slowly increased the speed and pressure of my stroke, as I wondered if I could get them both off at the same time. But if I did that, they might not be able to fuck me. And believe me, after Shelly warming me up the way she did, I needed it - bad.

After just a minute or two of gentle stroking, I sat up and leaning over Stan, sucked him into my mouth. I have no idea why I went for Stan first, but I'm glad I did. For once, Nick realized he was the odd man out. He got up on his knees, pulled me to the doggy position, and entered me from behind. I can't tell you how much I wanted that. His dick parting my pussy lips sent shockwaves of endorphins shooting throughout my body. And having Stan's cock in my mouth, only made it better.

Our little ménage à quatre that night lasted maybe two hours. Both boys fucked me in all of the usual positions, and both boys came at least twice. And I have no idea how many orgasms I had. Maybe dozens, for when one or the other wasn't actually screwing me, Shelly had her tongue so far up my vagina, that I think she could almost lick my cervix. And for me, the highlight of the evening was eating out Shelly. I found it unbelievably stimulating. Which utterly surprised me. She pees out of that thing, and I had always considered it gross. But I love it when someone goes down on me, so why wouldn't I like to give another woman the same pleasure.

Nick moved back into the bedroom with me for the remaining four weeks that I lived in the apartment. I had never actually spent the night with a guy until then. I'd had sex with boys during my senior year of high school, but I'd never actually spent the night with any of them. And as I think Shelly was indeed Stan's girlfriend, it worked out better for all of us. We still had our little foursomes on occasion, but they were generally on weekends when no one had to go to work the next day. And were usually accompanied by a night of drinking. I never had sex with just Stan or just Shelly. But I certainly did get accustomed to having Nick in bed with me every night.

As September rolled around, I was able to move into a Cal Poly dorm room. It was bittersweet leaving the apartment and my sleeping partner for the last month. But it was time. Nick and I weren't emotionally attached. He was never my Mr. Right, he was just my Mr. Right-Now, and we both knew it. But it was fun, and we did both enjoy our time together. Besides, I was tired of being their maid, housekeeper, and cook. Now I admit, they all worked during the day, and I didn't. So, as I had the time to do it and they didn't, I cleaned up the apartment, did the shopping, and cooked dinner most nights. I even made the bed every day that Nick and I slept in. Stan and Shelly never made their bed once the entire two months I lived with them.

Moving into a dorm room was somewhat of a shock. I'd never lived in such an arrangement before. But I'd never lived anywhere but home before moving in with Stan & Company, so it was just another learning experience. My roommate was an Asian girl named Kim. Very sweet and super friendly. But we had very little in common, and other than sleeping in the same room, we had almost no interaction. She was a computer science major and as far as I could tell, only socialized with other computer geeks and fellow Asian students. However, the dorm was co-ed. Guys and girls were on every floor, so it was a very target-rich environment. And if I couldn't get a date here, I might as well have moved back home and just hooked up with my Uncle Jeff.

Each floor of the dorm had a large common area near the center of the building. This was sort of like a living room for those on the floor. And though you had to have a security card to get into the building. Once you were in, all the floors were open to all the others. Our building had five floors, and each floor had about forty rooms, so that was roughly two hundred rooms, two people per room, and about an even number of chicks and dicks, came to about two hundred boys I had not fucked yet.

I wasted no time in meeting the guys. In high school, I only dated jocks. And so, I was curious to see how the non-jocks measured up. And to be honest, after living with Stan, Shelly, and Nick for ten weeks, I was very curious about having two guys at once. Or maybe another chick and a guy. I didn't make that a requirement for my next bedmate, but I certainly wouldn't have said no, if the situation presented itself.

Luckily, I didn't have to wait very long. Cal Poly Pomona is basically a commuter school. Probably less than twenty percent of the students live in the dorms. The rest either live on their own off campus, or they live at home with their parents or a spouse. So those that do live in the dorms, generally have no place to go on weekends and hang around on campus.

And I enjoyed the fact that there was no rush for immediate hookups. For the first month or two, if they weren't studying in either their room or the library, most students hung out with people they already knew. At least that was true during the week. However, on weekends, when the campus, and especially the dorms, were just about dead, there was more of an interest in meeting new people. Luckily for me, Kim's family lived in the LA area, and she always left campus at noon on Fridays. That gave me the room to myself. Or, should I say, myself and that week's lucky guy. I never had a boyfriend, but that's certainly not to say I was celibate.

As Fall morphed into Spring (you only know the seasons by the calendar in Southern California), our weekend parties became more of a communal activity. We would usually start out in the common area on one of the floors. Girls and guys would get comfortable on the sofas around the room while watching TV and drinking beer. Then someone would dim the lights, and soon, one thing would lead to another. Necking, groping, and fingering would get the party going. And then, we would usually break out into small groups of five or six and retire to one of the dorm rooms.

I actually liked this arrangement. There were no emotional connections to anyone, and I got to fuck whoever I wanted - guys as well as girls. By the end of my Freshman year, three-ways, four-ways, and even five-ways were common. And the things I learned. No two guys had the same dick. Now, I know that's obvious, but I mean, they all looked and fucked differently. They were all different sizes, different lengths and girths, and different angles. Some swung left, some swung right, and some (my favorites) curved upward.

And just as amazing, every chick's pussy was different, as well. Now this I really wasn't expecting. Of course, the hair was different. Some girls shaved, some just trimmed, and some proudly went full bush. But even more amazing was that their actual vaginas were different. Some girls had big puffy lips, and some had almost no lips at all. And some girls' inner lips protruded beyond their outer lips, and some girls were as clean and neat as a cute little coin slot. It was amazing what a college education can do for an innocent farm girl like me (a little tongue 'n cheek there).

At the end of my Freshman year, I moved out of the dorm and was able to rent a nearby two bedroom - two bath apartment with two other girls. They were girls that I'd met in the dorm, and all three of us got along very well. I agreed to pay 40% of the rent, so I got the master bedroom, the other two girls paid 30% each, and shared the bedroom without an en-suite bathroom. And though my roommates changed several times over the next three years, I was able to keep the apartment until I graduated.

And though we all enjoyed very active social lives, the rule was that no guy could move in with us. You could have overnight guests; that was okay. But no long-term guests. That rule worked great for me, and though it is probably why several girls left over time, there were never any hard feelings, and we always remained friends.

Further, I should mention that my tastes in dates changed over time. For the first year that I was in the apartment, most of my dates, and boys I'd bring back to my room, were many of the guys I'd met while living in the dorm. But over time, as I worked closely with the university's athletic department, more and more of my dates were jocks. Initially, I loved the muscles, the abundance of testosterone, and mostly the amazing stamina they had. However, by the time I graduated, even that was wearing thin on me.

In fact, I was getting tired of the whole athletic thing. I still enjoyed watching sports. But my patience with athletes was at an end. Their narcissism and their cavalier attitude toward anyone or anything but themselves, had simply exhausted me. My dream of a career in sports and sports medicine no longer held my interest. I needed to find a new career path, and soon. But what could I do with a degree in Kinesiology?

As I struggled to find myself after graduation, my options were few. I had no intention of returning to Fresno for anything more than short visits. My dad had been living at home for over two years now and was active in the family business again. So, at least my mom wasn't alone anymore. But I still avoided my Uncle Jeff at all costs, so I carefully planned visits to ensure I had no interaction with him. As far as I know, my family never had a clue that I was specifically avoiding him, and I wanted it to stay that way.

However, I did have one viable option. California does not require a state license to be a massage therapist. But you can't get a job at a legitimate massage establishment without a California Massage Therapy Council certification. Though with a degree in Kinesiology, all I had to do was sit for the exam, which was a piece of cake. I was certified within two weeks and began looking for a job in the better parts of town. Now, as I'm sure you realize that Los Angeles is a vast metropolitan area. And the most desirable working locations, like Hollywood, are all so the most expensive to live in. So, considering the cost and hassle of commuting long distances in LA traffic, there will always be a tradeoff.

Now I'll never know how I lucked into this, but within another two weeks, I was able to get a job at a well-known and professional therapeutic massage clinic. The clinic was adjacent to the Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in the Beverly Hills area of LA. It really was the opportunity of a lifetime, and I don't know how I got the job. I guess it was just being at the right place at the right time. Cedars-Sinai is one of the world's most prestigious hospitals. And it was right in the heart of the LA movie and TV industry. So, many of our patients were connected to the entertainment business.

The pecking order for therapeutic massages are, first and foremost, a licensed Physical Therapist. These generally require a doctor's order; they are highly professional and treat both men and women. Next are Therapeutic Massage clinics, like us. Though some patients come in with a doctor's order, most do not. Most of our patients are men with sports or work-related aches and pains, but not severe enough to see a doctor first. Then there are the Day Spas. These are particularly popular in Southern California, have a predominantly female clientele, and can be rather expensive. Then, of course, below that are the Asian massage parlors. These are little more than bordellos and cater exclusively to horny men.

When I started work, I still had two months left on my student apartment lease. So, there was a cross-town commute for a while. However, as soon as my lease was up, I moved in with a coworker in her West Los Angeles apartment. Her name was Piper, a classic Valley Girl name, but she didn't look like your typical Valley Girl. Piper was probably of mixed race. She was tall and statuesque, with full sultry lips, curly ebony hair, and gorgeous rich caramel-colored skin.

And even though splitting the apartment rent was still expensive. It was only about five and a half miles from the clinic, and though it took almost twenty minutes to drive on a good day, it was much closer to work. And I didn't have to get on any LA freeway. West Los Angeles isn't quite Santa Monica, but it is so close that I felt like I was living there. And in my mind, there is just about no better address than Santa Monica.

Within six months, I was actually beginning to feel like a professional. I had established patients, both male and female. And I admit, I was star-struck by the whole Hollywood thing. And some of my clients were actually celebrities. Maybe not A-listers, but they were people that worked in the TV and movie industry. And so, at least I had my hands on the sore, aching muscles of people who worked with A-listers, and sometimes I had my hands on a little more than just their muscles.

It was the policy of the clinic that all patients were to be draped at all times. Draping simply meant that their genitals were covered. And as most patients were fully nude when I entered the room, I would quickly provide one if they didn't have a towel covering their privates. And as you might imagine, some of my patients, both men and women, clearly preferred that I dispense with the drape altogether. They generally wouldn't say anything. But if and when their towel just slipped off, they wouldn't do anything to restore it to its previous location. And if I tried to, they would give me a wave of their hand, indicating that it was okay - just leave it off.

If it was a new patient, or someone I didn't feel all that comfortable with, I'd insist on putting the drape back into position. However, if it was someone that I had massaged before, and they specifically requested me, and most importantly, they were the one to allow the drape to slip off in the first place. Then I would allow it. And though I never actually jerked a patient off. I found that by applying the right pressure to the proper muscle, I could get an orgasm out of just about anyone, male or female, by just raking my fingernails across their highly sensitive genitalia. I felt comfortable doing this, as no patient ever complained and generally would leave me a sizable tip. Of course, tipping was optional. But many clients, or patients as the clinic called them, would tip. A typical gratuity was twenty dollars, but if I got them off, it could be five times that.

Initially, I wasn't sure if Piper did the same thing or not. And then, one evening, as we were having a drink at our favorite after-work watering hole, I said, "Hey, it's on me tonight. I made over two hundred dollars in tips today."

"Whoa, who did you get off?" were the first words from her mouth.

Without thinking, I said, "Kenny ..." before I caught myself. I still wasn't sure if I should be telling her. "Uh, what do you mean?"

Laughing, she said, "Oh, come on now, Lucinda. We're all adults here. The only way to get tips like that is to get somebody's nuts off."

"Uh, well - it was an accident," I said, blushing and trying not to laugh.

"Accident, my ass," Piper said as she brought her first Cosmopolitan of the evening to her lips.

I thought for a few moments while I took my first sip. "Really, I didn't jerk him off. He just sort of came on his own."

"Shit - girl," Piper said. "I don't care how you did it. It's none of my business. I'm just all about customer satisfaction."

"Do you jack-off patients?" I asked, getting a little bolder.

"Sure, some of my regulars," Piper confirmed. "Usually the older ones. The younger guys don't like to pay. The older guys have more money and don't seem to care."

"Aren't you worried about getting fired?" I asked between sips of my drink.

"Look, if the patient initiates it, then - it's just customer service," Piper explained with a smile, as she gulped the last of her first cocktail.