Isabelle Goes to College Pt. 03

"How long did it take you to lay her, too?" I asked.

"The very next night," Philip said, and he chuckled a little.

"You dog, you!" I said.

"Continue the story, please," Philip said.

"Well Philip massaged my front, with of course special attention focused on my boobs which made me giggle, and then he massaged the front with long strokes, each stroke going under my panties a little, with how far they were going under increasing with each stroke. Finally, he told me to lift my hips and I did and off came my panties. Now I was naked before him. Oh yes, not just him, there was one other guy there, watching and drooling."

"Philip massaged my thighs and calves and feet next and it felt divine. Then he started at my feet and slowly worked his way up my calves, and then my thighs, and he arrived at my crotch. I knew what he was going to massage next, but I was so blissed out at this point and turned on from being naked in front of him, that I had no intention of stopping him if he tried."

"As you know Duane had a great body. He was ripped and the man was pure muscle. I was kind of superficial and liked men like that, just as sex objects, you know? We girls can be just as superficial as you guys, at times."

Philip nodded and made a hand gesture for me to continue. I noticed he had become hard listening to me as I recounted one of the more erotic experiences in my life. For my part, I was already wet and my voice was becoming husky as it does sometimes when I'm turned on. I continued.

"Duane's hands began to massage my pussy. His touch was so gentle it was barely there. He was only touching the hairs of my pussy. I didn't shave it like I do now. I was becoming desperate for him to touch with more force, to really caress me, and just when I was about to explode in frustration the caresses began."

"First he outlined my pussy, tracing my labia with his fingers. He then switched to the inside of my labia, teasing me more. I was getting desperate for him to touch my clit or for his fingers to enter me. He just didn't do it. Instead he stood up and removed his pants and his briefs, his huge black cock springing into view. I know Black men with huge cocks is a cliché, but in every cliché there is a germ of truth, and Duane's cock was more of a highly contagious disease of a cliché than it was a germ of a cliché!"

"Duane didn't speak. He reached down and spread my legs wide, even very wide. It was almost as if I was doing the splits. He didn't kiss me or touch my boobs or anything, he just placed his cock at my entrance, I guess waiting for a signal from me. No signal came from me, but neither did an objection, and he effortlessly slipped his cock inside me, just like that."

"I was so ready for it! He was only the second man to take me. (I never speak of my brother Mathew who was my first and will always be my best, so in actuality Duane was my third man.) We had a lovely, memorable fuck and he lasted so long I was able to climax twice. He dumped a load of cum in me and only then did he kiss my nipples and moved up to kiss my mouth."

"What happened next really surprised me. The guy who had been watching us tapped Duane on the shoulder and asked, 'May I cut in?' It was as if Duane and I had been dancing or something. Duane got off me and this guy, who I realized was naked, got on top of me and began to kiss me. I didn't know what to do so I kissed him back. I guess you may be right; I do have submissive tendencies."

"We kissed for a while and Duane left the room and I was left alone with this naked guy I didn't know lying on top of me and kissing me. He began to kiss my boobs, and not knowing what to do, I said, "I'm Isabelle. Who are you?" He had an African name: Siba. As he moved up into position I said, 'Pleased to meet you' and Siba said, 'It's an honor to meet a girl as fine as you are, Isabelle.'

"Siba then entered me and he fucked me a good long time until I was screaming in ecstasy. He shot his load inside me, too, and then he helped me to get dressed and he walked me back to my dorm. I staggered into my room, ripped off my clothes, and promptly fell into a very contented sleep on my bed. The next morning I woke to texts from Sam and from Duane and my double, cheating life began."

"It helps to understand that up to that point Sam was the only man I knew 'that way.' (Again, I was not about to tell Philip about my incest with my brother Mathew!) Suddenly two more men had fucked me in just an hour and a half. The number of men who had laid me had suddenly tripled, and I had not expected this at all."

"There, I'm done. Now you know what a slut I'm capable of being. How did my version jive with Duane's?"

"You really fucked two men back to back? Really?" he asked.

"I was stoned and drunk out of my mind, not that I'm trying to justify what I did. Does it gross you out that I'm a woman who once did such a thing?" I nervously asked.

"No, you fool, it turns me on! Did you ever do it again? Or a gangbang?"

"No! Certainly not! Sorry to disappoint; I guess I'm not as slutty as you'd hoped I was. It was just that one time. I thought for sure Duane would have told you what a slut I was being."

"Duane just described how you fucked. He left out everything else," Philip said. "Maybe he didn't even know about Siba?"

"Oh, he knew. Once when he was busy with some Asian tart he passed me off to Siba," I said.

"Wow," Philip said. "Did you accept being passed off like a piece of property like that?"

I ignored Philip's question.

"How did Duane describe how I fucked? Would I be flattered by his description?" I asked.

"Probably, yes, that is, if I translated it from the crude, offensive, vernacular he used into the King's English," Philip said.

I excused myself to check up on the kids. They were both sound asleep. I returned to my room and I mentioned to Philip, "I think the story of Duane's seduction of me and his leading me into a den of iniquity has made you uncomfortable below the waist. My apologies," and I giggled.

"Come here and sit next to me, Isabelle.," he said. I did.

"May I kiss you?" Philip asked.

"Think of me as one of your cute little submissive Asian tarts. Does it bother you that I'm married?"

"Married is my favorite kind of woman. No complications," Philip said. "Besides, married women do things with their illicit lovers they'd never do with their husbands."

"In your dreams. You really are an asshole," I replied.

"And you're a submissive, Asian tart. Stand up and undress. Slowly," Philip said.

"Yes, master," I teased. I stood up and undressed painfully slowly until I was in just my bra and panties.

"Now comes the moment I've been waiting for since your freshman year in college. Continue, slave girl," he said.

Off came my bra. I teased him by covering my boobs with my hands. He tossed his shoe right at me and I bat it away, realizing I had uncovered my boobs by doing so. I giggled at his cleverness.

"Now the panties," he said.

I turned my back to him and slowly lowered my panties. When they fell to my ankles I delicately stepped out of them and then bent deeply over and spread my ass cheeks.

"Turn around," he ordered. I complied, smiling brightly.

"Now undress me," he said.

"Did your Asian sluts ever undress you, too?" I asked.

"No, I was too eager to get inside their panties," he said.

"And you're not too eager with me?" I asked, putting on my best pout. Philip responded by undressing himself lightning fast.

"That's better," I said, and I sat down next to him. "Now what shall we do? Want to watch some TV?" I got up to get the TV remote. Hiding what I was doing with my body I set my iPad on record and propped it up in just the right way. I had practiced doing this earlier.

As we watched late night TV with Steven Colbert, Philip played with my boobs, tweaking my nipples. He tried to caress my pussy but I was holding my legs tightly together. I wanted to make Philip put in some effort to seduce me. Of course, he already had me naked so some of the drama was gone. We both knew where this was going to end up.

I refused to touch him. If he wanted me he had to come after me, dammit. He couldn't get my legs to part. He changed the channels on the TV until he found a station playing some music. He pulled me up to dance with him. Clever guy; it's hard to keep your knees glued together when you're dancing. His fingers found their way to my snatch.

His fingers quickly learned that I was good and wet. I noticed he was hard. He began to kiss me and once we were kissing he added some finger fucking to the mix. He was really good at it, too! Lots of practice, I assumed.

"Your body is just as I remember it," he said. "You haven't changed a bit. Your boobs are fantastic!"

"What are you talking about? We never dated in college. You never saw me naked. Oh! Did you spy on me when Duane was fucking me? How big of a creep are you, anyway?"

"Don't worry I didn't spy on you. It was worse," he said.

"Worse?" I asked. My imagination failed me. We were still dancing and he was still fingering me during this conversation. I was getting close. The man's fingers should be declared a national treasure or something. Is there a presidential medal of fingering? I have a nominee.

"Yes, worse," he said.

"Well now you have to tell me!" I said.

"No."

I pulled away from him, his pussy-juice soaked fingers falling from my cunt. "Tell me or you get nothing tonight," I said.

"And if I tell you?" he asked.

"You get whatever you want," and I almost came as I spoke those words.

"How about I tell you after?"

"After what?" I asked even if I knew exactly what he meant.

He kissed me. It was nice, and I was already totally turned on.

"I'm a bit kinky," he said.

"How so?" I got even more turned on but I also was on guard. It's always good to be safe, right?

"I like the woman to pretend she's dead," he said.

"Come again?" I was pretty sure I'd heard right, but I think I was in shock.

"I'd like you to lie as still as possible while we do it," he said.

"You're not going to kill me and then fuck me, are you? I'm not up for dying for your erotic pleasure. I have two kids in the next room and a wonderful husband at home. You can keep your story. Please go," I said. My voice had risen steadily and become shriller. I was freaked!

"No, it's nothing like that. If you were dead you would be cold and not get wet. I like my women alive but pretending to be dead, is all. It's just a little harmless kink. Would you do it please? It would mean so much to me. You're the prettiest and sexiest woman I've ever known," he said.

Flattery gets to me every time. He saw me weakening. He kept up the flattery. He waxed enthusiastic about my boobs. It was believable; lots of men love my boobs. He spoke of my porcelain face, how delicate my features were, and how exceptionally beautiful my eyes were.

I caved. "How does this work? What do I do?"

He smiled a huge smile. "Just lie there perfectly still with your eyes closed. No matter what, just lie there still. Remember the dead don't moan."

"The dead don't climax, either. I usually climax when I fuck, especially when I'm with a guy with your endowment," I said. I thought I'd return a complement even if I had to exaggerate a bit to do it.

"You can climax, but try to play dead until you absolutely have to," he said.

I spread my legs, placed my arms across my chest in the pose of a dead person ready to be buried, and closed my eyes.

Philip began by licking me, and he supplemented his tongue with a finger, then two fingers and he managed to squeeze in a third finger. Even after giving birth twice my opening is not that big. It was hard to remain still and make no sound, because I was really enjoying it. I concentrated and managed it, however.

I stayed perfectly still as he placed his cock at my entrance. He kept it there. My eyes were closed so I could not see his face. I tried to keep my face completely still and without expression as I could feel his eyes studying my face. He was testing me.

Without warning he suddenly thrust himself inside me with all of his force. I almost gasped and shrank under his onslaught as he was pumping away inside me like a possessed fanatic, but somehow, I managed to keep playing dead.

I was 'lucky' and didn't climax in the fuck. I figured it was because I was concentrating so hard to remain silent and to be perfectly still. He unloaded inside me and he remained inside me for a long time, eventually withdrawing his deflated, flaccid penis. He kissed me on my lips, but I was still playing dead, unsure about when I was to wake up. He never spoke. Why bother? The dead can't hear you, can they?

I decided to remain 'dead' until he finally spoke and told me not to. I could tell he got up off the bed and I heard a few camera clicks from a cell phone camera, and at last he spoke.

"You were wonderful. Best I've ever had. Isabelle you are remarkable," he said.

I 'woke up' from the dead and opened my eyes. "Thank you," I replied. "It wasn't easy. I wanted to move with you when we were, uh, engaged. Have you ever actually fucked a dead woman?"

"No never. Not yet," he said and the look is his eyes made me shiver.

"Okay, you've had your fun. Now tell me what you did that was 'worse.' You promised."

Philip launched right into it. "Okay. Back when you were in college we fucked," he said. "You were naked, just like now. God, you look exactly the same, even after all these years."

"Are you trying to tell me we fucked and I don't even remember you? Philip you are plumb crazy. I've never fucked you!" I almost screamed, but remembering the kids sleeping next door (the walls are thin in the Red Roof Inns). I managed just to hiss out the words. "I mean, besides just now, of course, and by the way you were great." I added that last bit to temper my outburst. Anyway, it was true. The fuck was great.

Philip ignored my outburst. I think he expected it, even. "It was like this. Duane came out of his bedroom angry as all get-go. I asked why and he said he was seducing you, got you naked, and then you passed out. He called you a 'stupid drunken bitch.' He was frustrated and he told me to get him a girl who can hold her liquor. I gave him one of my Asian tarts, Claire, and he stormed off with her. Then I went into his bedroom," Philip said. "Soon I heard Claire's all too familiar moans of intimacy."

"You peeped on me?" I asked.

"Yes, and you looked so beautiful lying their naked, sleeping peacefully in your drunken coma. I decided to get a better look and spread your legs. I played with your boobs and tweaked your nipples. You had no reaction; nothing. Then I fingered you a bit and you got nicely wet, even in your drunken stupor. I undressed. I was already hard. I opened your mouth and stuck my cock in, but alas apparently you do not suck cock when you're unconscious. Undaunted, I knew there was something else to try," he said.

"Oh my God. You didn't!" I said.

"Oh, but I did! I fucked the bejesus out of you and you fucked me right back, even while you were unconscious! It's like your body just wants to fuck. You're amazing, Isabelle. One in a million. You really got into it and at one point you called out 'Sam, oh Sam, do me Sam,'" he said.

That's exactly what I cried out from time to time when Sam was fucking me. There was no way Philip could have known that.

"You son of a bitch! You fucked me when I was passed out? Without my knowledge or permission?? Holy shit, you raped me! Get out, get out, get out!" and I threw his clothes at him and tried to aim his shoes to hit his head.

Philip ignored my outburst, smiling. "You turned me on to my kink, which I call pseudo necrophilia. It's poetic that you are the best pseudo-necrophilic fuck I've ever had, since you started it all back in college."

"Well, at least I'm good at something, although I never thought playing dead while a rapist was fucking me would be one of my hidden talents. Philip, please leave now. You make me want to throw up you're so disgusting and if I do, I'll make sure I vomit all over you," I said, my anger palpable.

"Youi don't want a necrophilic ass fuck? I think you're the first woman I've met who could pull it off," Philip said. He was almost begging.

"You don't get it, you moron. You just confessed to raping me in college. Get the fuck out of my hotel room before I call security, or whatever passes for security at the Red Roof Inn. They'll probably call the police. Is that what you want? Now get the fuck out of here!"

Okay, I was shouting and spitting and looking for stuff to throw at him. I was out of control, but who could blame me? Philip dressed, smirking, leaving me there naked and full of his cum and fuming.

I called Sam and told him what happened. He acted outraged but I could tell it turned him on, even if it was long ago when we were in college.

"It was after you and I had broken up and I was so upset and sad I drank a lot and this asshole Philip says he fucked me when I was passed out from too much booze. You know how little booze it takes to get me drunk."

"Some people are strange. Probably his true calling is necrophilia," I said.

"I can't bring myself to describe the sex to you, lover, but I can send you the video from my iPad? I'd better watch it first," I said.

He wanted the video. I could almost feel him chomping at the bit to see it. "How will you act if you see him today?"

"The irony is I thought he was hot. Now I think he's the devil incarnate. If I see him today you can be glad I don't own a gun since you'd be married to a murderess."

We talked some more. Sam offered to come to the beach because he could tell I was much too upset. I told him I would get over it when I saw Anna and Colin. Their angelic faces always washed away whatever troubles I thought I had. So it was okay, he should stay and continue his job search.

I began to wonder how many other women Philip's raped or played his pseudo-necrophilia games with? Was I his first rape victim back in college? I was a freshman and he was a senior. I'll bet he raped plenty of other drunken, passed out girls, too. Maybe he raped all of Duane's girlfriends? Maybe Duane let him? Maybe, maybe, maybe...

Sam told me later he really got off on the video. I began to worry about Sam. It was one thing to tell him about what I felt I had to do to be a success in sales at work, but it's another whole dimension for him to get off on watching me get laid, or more precisely, get laid while playing dead! This was not healthy. This was not normal.

The kids' angelic faces and excitement over another day at the beach actually did work the magic I needed. The next day at the beach turned out to be nice. We quickly found Maria, George and Carlos. Colin was thrilled to join his new friend. Soon Mark appeared and found Anna and she was in raptures. I was happy that the kids were happy and I enjoyed talking with Maria.

Maria asked me about Philip and I told her he was a creep and that he had long ago raped me in college when I was unconscious from too much booze. I told her how he had confessed to me but only after we had fucked. Maria was stunned. I didn't want to tell her about his pseudo-necrophilia kink, or especially that I played along; I felt that I wouldn't have been able to deal with her reaction.

We talked for a long time. She ended up asking the three of us to dinner, and Mark too if it was okay with his parents (it was) and she told me there was a great guy, Richard, who she wanted me to meet and that she would invite him too. She thought he'd be a tonic after the horror known as Philip.

I really hit it off with the guy she invited and after dinner he drove us home to the Red Roof Inn. I knew it would take a while for the kids to fall asleep so we just sat and talked in my room. Anna complained about Colin a few times via texts and I had to excuse myself to go to their adjoining room in order to handle the kids.