Decadence

All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced without permission from the author. This is a work of fiction... It is fantasy, pure and simple. Any resemblance to real people is unintentional and strictly coincidental. If you aren't at least 18 years of age, don't read this blah, blah, blah.

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To have one's cock deep throated by a young, barely legal, busty blonde, while at the same time be French kissed by an equally young and sexy brunette is a decadent experience. Yet, it was happening to me. To have such a thing happen with women you've dreamed and fantasized about for years is nearly indescribable... However, I'll do my best to fill you in on the details...

My name is Joe. I'm a thirty-something schoolteacher, recently turned college professor. I'm twice divorced, with three strapping sons to my name and two ex-wives. Neither of which has remarried. I guess I ruined them for marriage.

Despite my many mistakes and bad choices over the years, I enjoy being me. The blue-eyed brunette trying to remove my tonsils with her tongue is one good on-hand reason why I feel this way; her blonde friend fellating my penis is another. How, exactly did I find myself in such a predicament, you ask? There in lies the tale.

I first met Marie (the brunette) and Lyssa (the blonde) some seven years ago when I was teaching at a rural middle school on the outskirts of a fair-sized Southern city. They first met that year in my classroom and hated each other immediately. Both were early bloomers, fully into puberty. They had very noticeable figures that outshone every other girl in the class, if not the grade or the school, for that matter. I'm sure some of the younger female teachers were flat-out jealous of Marie's long, lean legs and perfect proportions, or of Lyssa's amazingly large rack.

As a relatively young male teacher, I was thankful every day these two studies in opposites came through my door. I was also intensely careful to not reveal my unprofessional appreciation of these two particular students. Being a minority in a female dominated profession, I'm sure I got my fair share of young teen-aged crushes... The day I overheard these two wildcats arguing about me being a 'hunk' and who had more of a right to want me was a turning point for me. I would never entertain ideas of a relationship with a student, especially an under-age one, but overhearing Marie and Lyssa that day ignited my fantasies.

I began to consider what they would look like in a few more years, all dressed up in their prom dresses, or when they got to college. Picturing them as college co-eds began one of my regular masturbation fantasies. I'd be 36 around the time they'd turn 18. Making it with two nubile, teens half my age, yet it still being 'legal' had great appeal.

From that day on, I began pairing these two up in class and giving them just a bit more attention that the other students. At some point, they stopped fighting and joined forces. I'm pretty sure they coordinated the days when they wore skirts too short to be dress code acceptable. I'm also pretty sure they enjoyed the extra attention they received when they did. They became fast friends, complementing each other academically and socially. They never seemed to have boyfriends... I guess they figured 'boys' were too immature. Besides, I can't imagine a middle school guy with the balls to approach those ferocious beauties. By the end of the school year, Marie and Lyssa were inseparable and I was in lust. Not so much for them as they were at that point in their lives, but I lusted for the smart, sexual, playful women I knew that they would someday soon become.

The gorgeous twosome eventually went on to high school and despite my best efforts, I lost track of them. My wife and I got divorced and I decided to go back to school myself for a doctorate degree. Time passed and I all but forgot about my two favorite masturbation fantasies. With my divorce still painfully fresh, I threw myself into my studies, and also at the college students underfoot (both the tender under grads and the sensual, more mature grad students) with varying degrees of success. I certainly wasn't a Don Juan, but I did hook-up now and then. I don't know if it was by some sub-conscious decision, or just circumstances, but a relationship never developed from those occasional trysts.

I started as a meager grad student, taking classes at night while still teaching at one of the local high schools. When a teaching assistant position opened up, I jumped at the chance and quickly immersed myself in the world of collegiate academia. I was considered an A.B.D., or "All But Dissertation" and was liked by both the faculty and administration. I could tell I was being groomed to become a full professor, just as soon as my degree was complete. Another reason to like being me.

It was Autumn, and the campus was going on mid-semester break. I'd been invited to one of the Department chair's famous parties. They were rather exclusive, by invitation only and quite wild. The Chair, or 'Doc' as he liked to be called, was very well off. He'd married into money and they'd invested wisely. He really didn't have to work anymore, but being the chair gave him the scope of contacts needed to throw a bash like this one every semester or so. His wife, as I've come to understand, schedules her visits to family overseas to coincide with his scheduled parties. This way, they have no awkward questions or circumstances ... a happy arrangement I'd say.

The party was held at Doc's house. 'Mansion' might be a better term, as it sat upon ten wooded acres in the middle of the old part of the city. It had a high iron fence and an electric gate barring the drive. A private security guard hired for the occasion checked my name against the guest list before allowing me through. The winding drive gave way to a splendid view of the house proper, all lit up in the twilight. Another private security guard directed my convertible to a side yard turned parking lot. Judging from the number of parked cars, I figured there were maybe 30 or 40 guests. Rumor had it that only the best and the brightest were invited, mostly from the ranks of faculty and graduate students. But occasionally, exceptional under grads were given the honor of attending. Sometimes the definition of exceptional extended to the area of looks or skills in the sack... if the rumors were true.|

Doc's two graduate assistants, John and Deborah, greeted me at the door. Both were young and good-looking. We exchanged 'hellos' and Deb directed me to the w t bar as John checked my name off a list on a small pocket PC.

I made my way to the bar, trading smiles and greetings with those I passed. As the 'new' guy, I knew only about half of the guests by name, but recognized most of them on sight. I ordered a Jack and Coke and drink in hand, found a quiet corner to scope out the party.

"Been here long?" a pleasant voice asked from my elbow. I turned and saw Dave, a fellow A.B.D.

"Hey! No, I just got here. You?" We shifted our drinks and shook hands. Dave and I weren't in competition because he was in the running for a position at a small college back home on the East coast.

"Oh, I've been here a while. I'm trying to pace myself, these things can go all night."

"Have you seen Doc?" I asked.

Dave shook his head and then nodded towards the staircase.

"He may be in the library upstairs... second landing, last door on the right."

"Why would he be up there instead of down here?" I asked.

Dave took a long pull on his beer and regarded me with raised eyebrows. I decided to take the hint and wandered off to the stairs.

"Let me let you in on a little secret... You may have lost track of me, but I've never lost track of you. After I left your class, you moved to teaching high school. Not mine, darn it, but you followed me after a fashion."

I started to speak, but she shushed me with first a finger to my lips, then a lingering, nibbling kiss to my bottom lip.

"Where was I?" Marie asked, finally breaking our kiss.

Lyssa pulled her mouth of my cock and leisurely stroked it. "Followed you to high school."

"Right. Thanks." And then pushed her friend's eager mouth back onto my glistening prick. "Don't interrupt me." she admonished with a giggle. Marie turned back to me and settled her head on my shoulder.

"I kept up with you the whole time. Your divorce... you moving into that dump of an apartment and then later to your current house. The one you're still fixing up."

She idly unbuttoned the first few buttons of my dress shirt and reached inside. She began to run her fingers through my chest hair and trace circles around my nipples with her manicured nails.

"I know lots and lots about you... your recent unsuccessful relationships. Your failed marriage. Your stories that you post anonymously on the Internet.... I know about everything. I even know..." She raised her head to speak quietly into my ear. Punctuating each word with a kiss.

"I" kiss "even" kiss "know" kiss "what" kiss "makes" kiss "you" kiss "tick."

She pulled her head back and placed her hands alongside my head, turning it until we were nearly nose-to-nose. Her gaze shifted every few moments between my eyes and my lips. I simply stared at her trying to make sense of it all, while at the same time both ignoring and enjoying the party going on below my belt.

"It's sex, Mr. Greene. Joe." she closed her eyes and shivered slightly. "Joe." She opened them again, bright and full of... something. Lust? Love? Satisfaction? I didn't know.

"I've waited for years to call you 'Joe', Joe." She smiled. "Joe. Joe. Joe. But back to the subject at hand: Sex. You're problem is sex."

She delivered this news with wide-eyed honesty and complete conviction. It never occurred to me to argue with her. Besides... She was right. She was voicing some of my deepest feelings and concerns, out loud in a manner that I never had.

"You don't smoke. Don't do drugs. Drink only socially. Don't gamble. Don't beat your women." she paused, pinching my left nipple hard enough to make me give an in involuntary gasp of surprise. "Sex is your vice. You need it. And when you don't get the quantity or quality you want from you relationships, you go elsewhere, sometimes to your detriment."

This statement both shocked and embarrassed me. Both for the same reason: it was true. It's a strange feeling being embarrassed and fellated at the same time. Mr. Happy started to flag a bit. I think Marie read my mind through my expression. She immediately took my face in her hands again.

"Ohh baby, no." she soothed. "I'm not telling you it's bad, or your fault... It's just the way you are... Just the way I love you."

I was still processing my feelings and the significance of what Marie had just said when she interrupted my train of thought with a passionate kiss. All my thoughts melted as my lust surged. When our lips parted, Marie's voice was laden with passion.

"We've been in here too long. We need to get down to the party and say our 'goodbyes."

"Goodbyes?" I asked, a bit confused. "Yes, goodbyes. We can't strip down and all fuck right here on the couch, as much as I'd like to..." She looked down at Lyssa and ran her fingers through the mass of blonde curls. She tugged, pulling her friend off my spit-soaked cock.

Lyssa made a whining noise, whether from her pulled hair or from her deprivation from my penis, I'm not sure. I've found over the years that there's a small segment of the female population that not only enjoys fellatio, but gets off on it. Lyssa was obviously one of these.

Marie pulled her blonde counterpart into an open-mouthed kiss, then mock snarled at her.

"We haven't got all fucking night... get him to cum so we can get out of here. I've got places to go and people to fuck." Lyssa grinned crookedly and settled back down between my legs. Marie turn back to me and whispered in my ear.

"Cum, Joe. Cum in her mouth." she encouraged me. "Get your hands in that curly blonde mess she calls hair and make her make you come."

I did as instructed. I gripped the long curls on the sides of Lyssa's head and felt/heard her purr in contentment. I guided her open mouth to the tip of my raging hard-on. She reached out with her tongue and began to circle my oozing head.

"Fuck her throat." Marie coaxed as she raised herself up on her knees on the couch. She now looked down on me, her breasts level with my face. She pulled up her shirt and presented me with a view of her firm, succulent breasts and small, erect nipples. I immediately began to lick and nibble, eventually closing in on a nipple and sucking.

"Yesssss." Marie hissed, circling my head in her arms. Then she added Urgently. "Cum, Joe! Shove that big, beautiful cock down this slut's throat. Use her. She loves being used! Do it."

I needed no further encouragement... still suckling at Marie's breast, I began to pull Lyssa's head towards my crotch. Sinking my cock further and further down her throat. Once I felt her nose in my pubic hair, I held her there, savoring the sensations. I then raised her head and began to pump her mouth up and down on my cock. I started slowly, but began to increase the pace with each stroke. The sensations began to overwhelm me. I gave a moment's thought to what was happening; having my cock balls deep down the throat of a barely legal busty blonde, and at the same time nibbling and sucking on the breasts of a brunette I'd lusted after for years... I could take no more...I came. With a loud groan I tensed, pulling Lyssa's face fully down on my spurting prick. I felt her throat seize up and contract rhythmically. She was swallowing my seed, not losing a single drop or sticky glob.

My roar was muffled nicely by the most beautiful set of hooters I'd ever had the pleasure to meet. "Yes! That's it! Fill that slut up!" cheered Marie. She sat back down, snuggling next to me on the couch her shirt pulled back in place, but her firm nipples clearly noticeable behind the thin fabric.

Still kneeling between my legs, Lyssa let my softening cock slip from her lips. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and grinned crookedly at me. "Wow, Mr. Greene. You must have been saving up! You taste great." "Next time, it's my turn to taste him." Marie said as she pulled her friend up from the floor. Lyssa snuggled up next to me on the couch, opposite her brunette friend who was now gently tucking my temporarily flaccid prick back into my boxers and zipping up my khakis .

Alyssa took my hand, the one that had recently been gripping the back of her head and stuck it between her legs, under her miniskirt. I immediately felt the heat and moisture from her crotch.

"Blowing you has gotten me sooo wet." she breathed in my ear.

If I wasn't in such a state of shock, I would have snaked a couple of fingers past the thin barrier that her G-string provided and finger-fucked her to a quick orgasm or two... But the surprises kept coming.

"You know..." Lyssa continued, "If next time she sucks you, will you fuck me? I'd like for you to fuck me, Mr. Greene." She let out a giggle and then stuck her tongue in my ear. "You can fuck my tight, wet pussy." Now she was nibbling on my ear. "Or you could fuck my tits.... or you could fuck my ass... Marie says I scream too much when my ass is fucked, so you might have to gag me." She giggled again. "Actually, Mr. Greene, you can fuck me any way you want."

I turned my head and regarded this blonde vixen in open-mouthed awe. The smiled at me and then kissed me on the nose. I looked at Marie who was now standing in front of the two of us. She was wearing both a serious and lustful look.

"She's serious Joe. A few years ago, Lyssa and I got together and she decided that all she really wanted was me. She still likes boys, but basically she's mine. I, on the other hand have always wanted you... so I guess what I'm saying is that you get us both." She held out her hands to each of us and we got up off the leather couch. The three-way hug/kiss that followed was both interesting and too complicated to fully describe. When we broke it off a few minutes later, we readjusted clothing and headed downstairs.

Doc smiled as he saw me approach, and broke from his gathered court. He warmly shook my hand and gave both Marie and Lyssa, a cheerful yet leering look up and down. He turned his attention back to me. "I see you've met of my prize under-grads, Joe. They seem to have taken a liking to you.

"Um, yeah." my vocabulary wasn't where it should be right then. He saw my discomfort and laughed a loud chuckle.

"Don't worry Joe. I know all about it... Why do you think both you and they are here?" He shifted his gaze to the attention our little group was receiving from the other guests.

"Still... While there are no official sanctions against fraternization between faculty and students... I should at least maintain the appearance of a proper faculty member." He leaned in and whispered, "otherwise I'd offer you one of the guest rooms and referee myself. But unfortunately, it's not to be. Girls, be gentle, but not too gentle. I'll see you in class, week after next."

He again shook my hand and raised his voice. "Sorry to hear you've got to leave early. I'm so glad you could come." He added a conspirator wink. "The boys downstairs will be sure to get your cars unblocked." With that he turned and rejoined his waiting court. Marie and Lyssa steered me out.

Getting home was a blur. I know I drove, with Marie beside me, hand on my thigh, head on my shoulder. But I don't remember the trip. We didn't talk and I was on autopilot. It was only when we were getting out of my convertible and I saw Lyssa pull up my drive that I realized she had followed us in either her of Marie's car. Hell, maybe it was 'theirs'. I fumbled with the keys and unlocked the door. I allowed myself to be pulled down the hall to my bedroom by Marie, while Lyssa, if my hearing was accurate, rummaged around in the kitchen and liquor cabinet to make us all drinks. It looked to be a very interesting night.