Helping Hand

"What about you?" She gave me a shit-eating grin. "Do you have any idea at all how many coeds you've fucked?"

I smiled. "I've been abstinent for almost three years. And if you want--"

Bethany covered my mouth with her hand. "--that's fine. I trust you as well. And I'm impressed."

We both laughed when my stomach growled.

"My thoughts exactly," said Bethany, rubbing my abdomen.

I brushed a few strands of hair from her face. "Plans for the rest of the evening?"

"Besides getting something to eat?"

"Yes."

"I need somewhere to stay."

"My wife is out of town until Monday morning."

Bethany's face lit up.

***

The clock in my study said seven forty-nine when I opened my eyes Saturday morning. Yes, my study accommodated a twin bed without making me feel I was living in a furniture store. I'd shown Bethany to the master bedroom where Lynn slept when she wasn't 'traveling' with Bradley. In a testament to sheer stubbornness, I declined to join Bethany in my wife's bed--lust for my student being outweighed by a steadfast refusal to even enter the whore wife's bedroom.

I awoke with a headache. In the hall bathroom, I swallowed two painkillers and grabbed a quick shower. Padding back to the study in my birthday suit, I found Bethany sitting crosslegged on my bed wearing only panties, her hair still damp.

She gave me a smile, but neither one of us spoke. After I hopped onto the bed we shared a long kiss, her fingers entwined in my hair, mine lightly squeezing her breasts.

She broke away from the kiss and put her hand on my chest. "Lay down." And then she knelt between my legs and without further ado, took the swollen tip of my penis into her mouth and slowly, slowly, slowly inched down my shaft until her lips kissed my pubic hair.

Her dark eyes, filled with longing, remained riveted to mine as she moved up and down

my shaft, her breasts brushing my thigh.

"I missed you last night," she said, gently stroking my cock. "I get that you don't want to be in your wife's bed."

I remained quiet, my eyes on her face.

"You must really hate her a lot."

She took all of me again, this time the tingling sensation so intense my hips lifted from the bed. She smiled, stroking me with a firmer hand. "I could have been doing this to you last night."

"I know."

"But you chose to sleep in your study."

I gasped as she stroked me even harder and faster before taking me into her throat again. She gagged but made no attempt to release me.

My heart pounded.

When she released me again, her tongue caressed my mushroom tip igniting every nerve ending from my groin and up my spine to my extremities.

"My pussy missed you. It's aching for you right now. Can you see how wet my panties are?"

She straddled my waist, stroking me with one hand, sliding her panties aside with the other and separating her glistening folds. "Can you see better now? See how wet I am?"

"I do."

My penis dripped pre-ejaculatory fluid as Bethany rubbed it against her wet folds.

"Come here," I said, pulling her hips toward me. She inched herself over me until her labia dangled over my face.

She cried out, shuddering, when my tongue made contact with her hard button of nerve endings above her slit, her hood already swollen, her inner thighs slick. She was more than ready, but I tongued her anyway. She spread her thighs further apart and pressed herself against my probing tongue, her meaty lips coating my face with her juices.

There was a small, hollow sound. It reminded me of something opening that had been closed. And then a sustained exhalation. And then a dribble of liquid, a petite squirt. And then a huge wave of sound, beginning with a prolonged moan, swelling into a loud groan and climaxing with a short shout.

Her entire body shook and then she pushed my face away from herself.

And quickly mounted me and began riding my cock like a West Texas cowboy. Or, since there may be just as many oil wells as cows in that part of the country, like a West Texas pump-jack.

Either way, I was awestruck, and quite jealous, of her ability and desire to seek more pleasure so quickly after such an intense orgasm. She braced her arms behind herself on my lower thighs, knees bent, thighs wide open. I had a front row seat to watch her labial folds move rapidly up and down my shaft.

"You feel mighty good, Professor," she said, her hips digging into me. All she needed was a ten-gallon hat and a lariat.

I pinched her nipples until she cried.

"Damn you! You're going to make me come!"

"You say that as if that's a bad thing."

She stuck out her tongue.

A minute later her face reddened. She rubbed herself vigorously.

I brushed my palms across her nipples. Her eyes widened.

Her hips pumped even more rapidly. Suddenly she stopped and her body twitched and jerked, her eyes shut tight, her mouth in a grimace as she rubbed herself.

A cry came from deep within her core.

My cock slipped out of her as she fell on top of me, sobbing for a few seconds. I cradled her head against my chest.

And then her hand was on my cock. "You're still hard as a rock! You didn't come?"

"Not yet."

I sensed she was about to say something, but had changed her mind. She rubbed my cock against her entrance, then slipped it back inside herself.

In what felt like less than a minute she came again, the jerking more pronounced. For a second I thought she was having a seizure. She tumbled off me and lay in a fetal position, hands between her shaking legs.

When she rolled onto her back, I kissed her.

She gave a final shudder. "That's never ever happened before. Sorry if I scared you."

"I thought you might be having a seizure."

She laughed. "Me too."

She cradled my face between her hands. "Larry, I know guys like to hear how studly they are, how big and hard their cocks are. But goddam! I've never had anyone do things to me like you did."

I ran a finger down the bridge of her nose before kissing her again. "I've never had a woman respond to me the way you have."

Bethany stroked my cock. "You still haven't come, have you?"

"That doesn't mean I haven't enjoyed every second of you."

She frowned and her eyes indicated that the wheels in her brain were spinning furiously.

Finally she gave me a peck on the cheek. "When Brad and I first met, we had fantastic sex. I could do no wrong. Then when the novelty of us subsided, he began to find things wrong. Not just with sex, but everything. Cooking, buying groceries, even doing the goddam laundry."

I stroked her hair for a second before she went on.

"When it came to sex, it was that I made him come too soon or I wasn't doing enough to make him come at all."

She wiped away a tear. "I remember one--"

"--Shhh! Bethany! Let's get one thing straight." I brushed my hand against her cheek. "I'm not your boyfriend. You don't have to take on that responsibility with me."

Bethany's eyes welled. "Is there anything I can do to--"

I covered her mouth with two fingers. "The worst thing you can do if you're worried about pleasing me is to worry about pleasing me."

She laughed as she brushed away more tears. "That's pretty deep."

I got on my knees and spread her legs. "I'll show you deep."

Rubbing my cock a few times against her folds, I slipped inside her with one hard thrust.

She yelped, then placed a hand on my chest. "Fuck me hard?"

I grabbed her ass cheeks for leverage, spreading her labia even further apart. The little finger of each hand rested on her pulsing anal opening. Given what Bethany had told me about her boyfriend, I doubted he'd spent time exploring that orifice.

Curious to see how she'd respond, I lightly massaged her opening. In response, she thrust her hips against me hard, moaning and quivering.

Before long, her vaginal walls spasmed and using my middle finger, I penetrated her anal opening.

She screamed. "Fuck!" Her legs squeezed my waist. Each stroke into her now produced a squishy sound as I pounded her through her release. She wailed, she slapped my back with the palms of her hands.

I felt myself close to the edge, but when I strained for release I felt myself deflating instead.

She felt it too, because when she came down from her peak she smothered me with kisses and pushed me onto my back.

"Damn, Larry! Jesus Christ!"

And then she put my cock in her mouth, alternating between lips and fingers, sometimes both at the same time.

I hated that Bethany felt bad about my equipment failure. In the past three years, when masturbation was my sole means of release, my equipment had operated unpredictably at best. Gone were the days of willing myself an erection, to say nothing of an orgasm.

Stress no doubt played a part--Lynn's affair and the marriage breakdown. In a few months I would turn forty, which, at the moment, might just as well have been seventy.

I forced my attention back to Bethany. Her mouth and hands had gotten me fully erect. But I seemed stuck on a plateau. I tried my usual tricks, appropriating a scene from a porn video, tightening my lower extremities from my buttocks to my toes, and even--and this shows you how desperate I was--recalling a time early in our relationship when Lynn and I made love.

Nothing worked. 'Fuck it,' I said to myself finally and began watching how Bethany's lips puckered around my shaft, how her tongue was both the first and last part of her that touched me when she took me into her mouth and released me.

I watched her breasts sway as her head bobbed up and down, watched them bounce as she rubbed me with her hand. When she switched from her right to left hand, I noticed a subtle difference. Although both felt good, I preferred her left hand.

Suddenly I felt an itch deep in my groin which grew as Bethany switched from using her hand to using her mouth. I tried not to feel too optimistic as I climbed to a higher plateau.

And then I quivered at the edge of pure pleasure. Still I refused to get too excited. I'd been to the edge too often and had not gotten further. More curious than expectant, I remembered to keep breathing.

Then, just like that, I was transported to another universe, another dimension, where a wave of pleasure stripped me of all the tension that my body had accumulated. At its peak, I felt stripped of even gravity and my own sense of self.

The French had it right when they described it as 'la petite mort.'

"Oh, honey!" Bethany said, lowering her mouth to the head of my cock.

I closed my eyes to stop the room from spinning and nearly passed out as I ejaculated into Bethany's mouth again and again and again and still again. I opened them only after I felt myself growing soft.

Bethany was still sucking me, wiping away the tears streaming down her face.

***

Hunger pangs brought me out of a post-coital stupor.

Bethany and I lay side by side on the bed, one of her legs draped over my waist.

"Hey, sleepyhead!" she said.

"Hey, yourself!"

We grabbed a quick shower, after which I put on a pair of bikini briefs. Bethany slipped into panties, no bra.

I fixed breakfast--pancakes from scratch, with fresh blueberries, turkey bacon and coffee.

"Plans for today?" I said as we ate.

"None."

"No homework?"

She frowned at me. "Please don't be a parent."

"Ouch! Just saying. I need some time to prepare for next week's classes, a couple three hours."

"I guess I can find something to do. Maybe work on another story?"

I gave her a big smile.

"Can I stay with you tonight?"

"Yes. Of course."

I was glad she had asked and didn't just assume it would be okay. It was way too early, and none of my business, to ask what her plans beyond this weekend might be.

After we ate, she insisted on cleaning up the kitchen, so I went into my study to start prepping for next week.

She came into the study a half-hour later with her laptop and asked if she could work on my bed. We spent the rest of the morning together in my study. At one point I glanced at her as she concentrated on her computer screen and I felt a palpable warmth flow through me. In that moment, at least, I felt good regarding us as a couple.

For lunch, Bethany raided the fridge for sandwich ingredients while I continued working. I was finishing up when she came into the study, stood behind my chair and pressed her boobs against my neck. I turned to take one of her nipples into my mouth.

"Are you hungry for food or for me?" she said.

"Yes."

She gave me a deep, wet kiss.

We ate in the kitchen, playing footsie under the table in our bare feet.

"I'd like to do something with you this afternoon," she said, finishing her sandwich.

I took a sip of water. "Aren't you getting a little sore?"

She stuck out her tongue. "Something that doesn't involve laying on my back with my legs spread apart?"

"Am I hearing a not so thinly disguised complaint?"

She grabbed my hand. "I'd just like to get out of the house for a while, that's all."

I kissed her hand. "It's probably not a good idea for us to be seen together."

"Yeah, I guess." She rubbed my index finger with her thumb and middle finger. "But I was thinking maybe we could go to a movie?"

"That's a possibility."

"They're showing 'The Graduate' at The Forum. It starts at three."

The Forum was our town's remaining single screen theatre. It showed primarily independent films and occasionally a classic.

"We could wait to buy tickets until the previews start," she said, "and leave as soon as the credits begin?"

I smiled. "You've put some thought into this."

"I know about the movie, but I've never seen it."

"It's probably on Netflix."

"Yeah, but it's different watching it on a big screen."

I rubbed my chin. "You make a good point. But I'm more likely to run into someone I know at that theatre than you are."

"Could you wear something that covers part of your face maybe?"

It was fun watching 'The Graduate' with Bethany. I could tell she enjoyed it, appreciated the film's irony. Turns out she knew quite a bit about Mike Nichols, the director, and had seen many of his other films, one of her favorites--and mine--being 'Working Girl.'

We both identified with the main characters, Benjamin, the recent college graduate (Dustin Hoffman), Jewish, neurotic and impulsive; and Mrs. Robinson, the older woman (Anne Bancroft) WASPish, bored, hypocritical. When Hoffman's character pursues Mrs. Robinson's daughter, Elaine (Katharine Ross), I thought of Bethany and me and how certain people would probably snicker at us behind our backs.

As we drove home, between discussing our reactions to the movie, I tried to reconcile our age difference to myself and to imagine the possibility of a future together. But, I also thought, maybe I was just deluding myself, trying to assuage the pain of a crumbling marriage with the excitement of a weekend fling.

We continued our discussion of the film cuddled on the couch. Bethany's insights impressed me and I began to see her in a different light. She was--yes--sexy, affectionate and fun. And she was bright, articulate and curious.

"I need a little nap," I said as we concluded our movie discussion.

"Want some company?"

I chuckled. "I actually need to rest for a bit."

She looked disappointed, but quickly thought of something she could do while I napped.

I woke up a few minutes before seven, surprised I'd slept so long. I found Bethany in the living room fast asleep on the couch. I ordered a pizza to be delivered.

My phone vibrated with a text from Lynn: Fran says you have yng woman w/you this w/e. Good 4 U! Hope you hav fun w/her. Let's call lawyer 2 get ball rolling. Save $ if we're amicable & share attorney.

Fran, a close friend of Lynn's, lived across the street.

I was still processing Lynn's text when the pizza guy rang the doorbell, waking up Bethany. I paid for the pizza and took it into the kitchen. Bethany, wiping sleep from her face, followed me.

"Hey," she said, coming up behind me and hugging my back. "You read my mind. I'm starved."

After supper we watched Netflix in the den until we both felt tired. I didn't look forward to our sleeping arrangement, but if I changed my mind I was afraid she'd view me as not only irrational but also inconsistent.

I turned off the TV with the remote. As I started to rise from the couch, Bethany pulled me next to her. "Larry, I know how you feel about setting foot in your wife's bedroom, but I wish you'd make an exception for me."

I teetered on the brink of changing my mind.

Bethany put her arms around my neck. "I missed sleeping with you last night," she said, her voice faltering, "and I don't relish doing it again tonight."

Well, there it was: maintain my irrational consistency and be miserable, or give in, lose face with myself (my pride and ego) and be happy.

The choice required no further thought.

"Okay. I'll sleep with you."

"In the master bedroom," Bethany said.

"Yes."

We showered together in the en suite bathroom before heading to bed.

As soon as my head hit the pillow I was ready to drift off, but Bethany had other ideas. "I'd like to give you a little nightcap."

And so that's how my day and my first week of the winter semester ended, laying on my back with Bethany giving me a blowjob. As she brought my cock to its full and upright position, I wondered if she was merely a one weekend diversion or if there was a chance for more.

And what would 'more' look like?

I was grateful for Lynn's text. It made me realize I needed to stop languishing in limbo and take the next uncomfortable step in ending my role as a passive victim.

I even came up with a way for Bethany to continue in my class without being officially counted as one of my students, thus removing any University concerns should we become a couple.

***

Despite my initial pessimism over my cock's ability to give a repeat performance so soon, Bethany had me primed, every nerve ending begging for relief. Still, I had doubts. Just as I was getting discouraged, a voice in my head nudged me on with a positive thought: 'Maybe all you need is just one more--'

"Come, baby!"

And into her mouth I came and came.

And as Bethany continued to suck me, I slowly slipped into the sweet oblivion.