tagMind ControlMind Fuck Ch. 01

Mind Fuck Ch. 01

bymandywilluk2000©

They were someone else's fingers weren't they? They weren't my own, were they? Surely my own touch couldn't be that stimulating, could it? Even half asleep in bed, having beautifully erotic dreams, I couldn't imagine that the light caresses on my breasts were by me? Was I dreaming or was it really happening?

As my mind caught up with my body and both emerged from the deep sleep, so I remembered where I was and I answered my own questions.

The hand on my full breasts was Guy's. I was lying on my left side. I was in his bed in Cambridge University. It had firstly stroked and caressed me, then cupped it and finally it had gently squeezed the pliant flesh. The fingers had found my nipple and pinched that, nicely, just right, not too much pressure, but enough to encourage the pink, puckered protuberance to stand up and send wonderful tingles through my body. The other hand was pushing at where my left side sunk into the amazingly comfortable, but totally impractical yet wonderfully evocative, feather mattress that Guy had inherited from his grandmother. It was fiddling its way between that and the left side of my body. I knew exactly what it wanted to do. I lifted up a little and felt a little shiver go through me as it wiggled through the gap and found my other breast. It repeated all the actions of the other hand. 'Mmmmmm wonderful,' I thought and felt.

But there was more, much more, there had to be. After all when you are in bed with a man and both of you are naked and it is the morning after a night of wonderful sex, there's bound to be more isn't there? I felt his chest against my back. I felt him lifting my slightly longer than shoulder length, chestnut coloured, unruly wavy hair away from my neck. I felt him kissing and licking my neck and I felt my goose pimples erupt, it sent shivers through me, it was lovely.

Most significantly of all, though, I felt his erection. I felt it against me, I felt it hard, long and hot. I felt it snuggled between the cheeks of my bottom and poking out the top of the crease. I felt it move, I felt him slightly thrusting it almost in time with the squeezing, pinching and caressing of my breasts and the kissing and licking of my neck. I felt him moving it, pulling it away, moving downwards a little and then fumbling it between my legs; I opened my thighs by lifting my right leg. One of his hands slid down my body and the fingers easily found my clit. He rubbed it, I grunted. I felt the bulbous end of his erection enquiring at the lips of my pussy. He pushed and I grunted again.

Then Guy fucked me from behind; it was absolutely wonderful.

*

It's so nice to have a boy friend again after such a long time; over three years to be precise. During that time, I have, been totally celibate, by choice, for almost a year, nearly sexually inactive and, as actors say just 'resting;' I have also had, shorter periods, of frequent activity.

I hadn't thought I would get involved with anyone until my daughter had left home for university, two more years yet. Following my divorce after thirteen years of marriage, I had vowed not involve her with a series of 'uncles.' Alright I did have a slightly mad period when the divorce was made final and I had rather more men in a two year period than I care to remember, but that was ages ago. I've reformed and for the past three years my only real sex has been with a couple of old flames. Being in similar situations, we have the occasional fuck simply for old time sake!

Things change though. Three of Sara, my daughter's, friends and her had asked if they could go on a three month crammer course for their A levels. That was residential, although being close by it meant I could see her often, but she stayed most nights at the college. I hated it at first, but then I met Guy.

I'm forty three and he's forty seven. I am divorced, he has never been married. He doesn't believe in it as an institution and sees it as an unnecessary restriction on man's natural desire to be polygamous. He is a professor of humanities at Cambridge University and is by some margin the brightest and most intelligent man I have ever known, certainly carnally. He is also obsessed with sex in all its forms. And on top of that he is drop dead gorgeous, with a big dick, amazing stamina and fantastic recovery powers.

*

"So you're the mysterious Amanda are you?" The, slim, medium height, just taller than me, dark haired man wearing stylish, tortoise shell framed glasses asked me.

I quipped back. "Well I am Amanda, but as to whether I am mysterious or even the mysterious Amanda, I have no idea?"

"Hmmm."

"What's that mean?"

"We'll see," he said as a few other people joined us.

We were at a luncheon buffet party at Pembroke College Cambridge. I had been invited by a girl friend who was a researcher. She knew I enjoyed the company of bright people for I had occasionally joked with her that the easiest way to get my knickers off was to speak Latin, know something about astro-physics, read and understand Shakespeare or be stunningly bright. As Guy and I chatted, I suspected he knew something about each of those subjects and more; metaphorically speaking, I could feel my knickers starting to slide down my legs already.

Gayle worked for the university in a research role, but also 'moonlighted' for a number of the professors, helping them with their the books they were always writing, the consultancy work most did for big business and the lucrative lecture tours they went on in such places as Australia, USA, and the Far and Middle East. 'Gravy train' stuff she called it explaining that the more active professors, such as Guy, would easily earn a quarter a million pounds a year from it; what a nice 'gravy train' I thought.

"I knew you would like him," Gayle said as we chatted over a cup of tea in one of the rooms of the college away from the heat of the Sunday mid afternoon sun.

"He is fascinating," I replied.

"And good looking?" She offered.

"That too."

"Great hair."

"Yes."

"And nice eyes?"

"Lovely eyes," I replied the piercingly blue of them coming into my mind as I recalled the intensity of his stare as we had chatted. He had one of those looks that made you feel that you were the only person in the world as he spoke to you.

"And it goes without saying bright."

"Yes very bright," I replied adding feeling a little alarmed, "Hey what you doing?" As Gayle ran her hand over my bum in the tightish, thin silky dress.

"Just checking," she smiled "That they're still there."

I laughed. "Yes well in place."

"I thought brilliance got them off."

"I don't do one nighters with men I have just met."

"No, of course not darling," she replied with what looked like a smirk or knowing smile. "By the way are you going to come to the meeting this evening? Guy is the main speaker."

She was referring to a meeting being held in a rambling old house in Grantchester, just outside Cambridge. It was a regular get together of a humanist, free thinking group of which she and a number of other researchers who I knew were members. Although I was aware of the meeting and was thinking I might go, I hadn't checked my email and hadn't seen Guy was the main speaker. That made my decisions for me.

"I know how much you like lively debate and insightful analysis, so you should enjoy this."

"What's the topic?"

"We are never told until we arrive."

What time should it finish."

"Oh eight, half past, plenty of time for you to scoot down the M11 and be in Docklands before the witching hour.

*

"Heterosexualism is an imposition on man to restrict his natural desire for same gender sex," was how Guy began his talk. To say I was amazed was an understatement, I was totally flabbergasted. I could hardly believe that the intellectuals and academics from one of the most revered, traditional and highly acclaimed universities in the world would discuss such a topic.

"Bisexuality is the natural state, heterosexuality is a social convention, largely developed by the Roman Catholic Church," he was explaining.

Looking around I saw that the fifty or so people in the audience were listening intently to his every word, many were making notes as Guy cleverly developed his points. Most were in their forties and fifties, I guessed, but there was a smattering of older and younger. There were probably slightly, but only just, more men than females.

As he so articulately and persuasively communicated his ideas so, several times, he looked to where Gayle and I were sitting and gave me that 'you're the only person in the room' look. Each time I think I smiled and each time I could feel my knickers sliding down another inch or so! He was looking straight at me as he went on.

"There is ample evidence to indicate that most everyone would have some form of sexual activity with somebody from their own sex if there was no guilt."

I smiled encouragingly, perhaps, but more out of embarrassment as he continued.

"Although more likely to occur with women than men, due to their ingrained machismo tendencies, it is probable that within forty years or so most people, men and women, will have experienced some form of same gender sex and many will indulge regularly."

I was sure he could see me blushing as, smiling, he looked away.

"So mysterious Mandy, what brings you to our group?" Guy asked me as we having a drink after the meeting had finished. He had seemed, or so I, maybe, kidded myself, made a beeline for me when the debate ended and had asked if I would like some wine. As it happened I wasn't drinking for I had a fifty mile drive ahead of me later that evening

"So why the mysterious tag Guy?" I asked sipping a glass of water.

"Just an expression Amanda, I find it gets attention and creates interest," he replied honestly, making me smile. "No seriously, Gayle has mentioned you a couple of times when we have been er talking," he continued, rather hesitantly, making me think 'I bet he's fucked her.' I remembered that she had asked me to a few events at the university and I had mentioned that a couple of our clients had used Guy as a consultant and that my agency might be going to.

We chatted for an hour or so as people joined us, then wandered off and others came up.

"You know you two have been hogging each other all evening," Gayle said coming up and putting her arm round my shoulders.

"No we haven't," Guy replied. "Mysterious Mandy and garrulous Guy have been holding court as others have joined us."

"Really?" Gayle said, beaming at him as his eyes bored into hers. I was sure that sent shivers through her and I was equally sure, now, that they had fucked, maybe still were.

"Anyway, you have to circulate. I need to introduce MM to some people and GG has a doting audience waiting to hear pearls of wisdom slipping from his garrulous mouth," she said smiling, slipping her arm through Guy's.

"Ok Gayle, as usual you win," he smiled flicking the long lock of blonde hair that continually flopped down over his forehead back in place. "But just before I lose Mandy, I have a request."

"What's that?"

"Could you give me a lift back into town, Megan who brought me out has gone, it's almost on your way to Docklands."

"Aren't you staying at the farm tonight?" Gayle enquired of Guy then, looking at me she added knowingly "Guy has a farm over towards Wells, it's a lovely place."

"No I have leant it to my sister and her brood it depresses me when they are they, I'm staying at the college. About half hour then Amanda?"

"Sure," I replied wondering what the hell was going on with Gayle and Guy. It was interesting though.

*

I drove him the few miles from the meeting to Corpus Christi College where he 'roomed' as they called it. As I parked the car alongside the masses of chained up bikes in the narrow cobbled road, he said authoritatively.

"You are coming in aren't you? We'll have a bite to eat."

Being a professor, one of the youngest actually, he had a suite of rooms in the college that he told me was founded in the mid thirteen hundreds. Although clean they were furnished and decorated just as I imagined the 'home' of an academic would be, untidy, casual, a little sparse, but comfortable. He called someone on the phone and within ten minutes or so an old man in a white shirt, long black apron and a black tie and trousers arrived carrying a tray covered with a cloth. There was a delicious display of cold cuts, salad and fresh fruit.

"See Mandy education does pay, free food delivered to your room on a Sunday evening. Much better than an Indian take away"

I smiled. "I'll remind my daughter of the perks of a good education when I see her."

We ate and drank water, which he poured explaining he wouldn't drink as he knew I couldn't adding. "Unless that is you would like to stay the night."

"It's a little early to be asking me that isn't it?" I said genuinely surprised.

He smiled. "I did mean in a guest room Mandy, the college has several." He paused bfore continuing "But if you prefer, I do have a double bed."

"Oh sorry," I mumbled totally embarrassed.

"Please don't be," Guy said walking over to where I was sitting. He put his hands on the arms of the chair either side of me, leaned forward, pushed my hair away from my face, kissed my forehead and whispered "But then you don't need to stay the night do you?"

"What, I'm sorry?" I said my body temperature immediately soaring.

"You don't need to stay the night to do what we need to do, do you?" He went on, stroking my hair and kissing my head.

"I don't understand," I burbled, quite lost for words, although I fully understood what was happening. I had never been 'pulled' quite as pointedly as this before.

He put one hand on my shoulder and gripped my chin with the other. He gave me 'that stare' with his blue eyes and said.

"You do understand, you know exactly what I mean and you know full well what we are going to do, don't you?"

I felt as though I was being hypnotised, perhaps I was. I felt that I was under his control, he was directing events and me as easily as a conductor did with an orchestra. I simply stared at him.

"Well Mandy," he continued still staring at me. Taking my hands he pulled me up so I was standing facing him.

"Sorry, er, um, what Guy?" I whimpered.

He put his hands on my shoulders. I was wearing a white linen jacket over a cream and orange patterned, halter neck, silk dress.

"You have known from the moment we met just as I have that we will make love haven't you?" He said quietly his eyes boring into mine. I didn't reply; I wasn't able to. I was, as they so awfully say nowadays, simply gobsmacked!'

"Haven't you Amanda?" he went on slowly removing the jacket. I felt helpless and did nothing to stop him, momentarily wondering if somehow he'd put some form of date rape drug in the food or water, but then I was fully conscious and was aware of everything that was going on; I was just powerless to resist. He dropped my jacket on the chair in which I had been sitting.

My dress was sleeveless and had a halter neck. It had straps that tapered down from about three inches to one or so wide running from beside each of my boobs round my neck. It was joined by a patch of velcro at the back. Just above the knee in length and fairly full in the skirt, I no longer have the bum for tight, pencil skirts, it was backless to just beneath my shoulders and, as it had built in integral support, there was no unsightly straps or the need for me to wear a bra; something that with my boobs I can rarely do.

I looked at him and couldn't help thinking back to his talk at the meeting. There, he had had gone on from discussing man's natural, but mostly dormant, desire for bisexuality to talking about how we are also sexually repressed. He blamed this on society's, particular the church, who I gathered he really doesn't like very much, insistence on mixing sex with and love and morals. 'We should,' he had claimed, 'be able to have sex without guilt when and with whomever we please, as long as they agree.' As he had been saying that I felt he had been staring at me, although of course it may have been Gayle who was sitting next to me.

"Well?" He said running his hands up and down my bare arms.

"Oh Guy," was all I could rather ridiculously groan as he lent forward, took me in his arms and kissed me. At that moment he knew as well as I did, that we would make love.

The kiss was deep and long. Our lips squirmed together, our mouths opened and our tongues found each other and duelled. Our hands ran up and down the others back, our bodies pressed hard against each other, my breasts were squashed and he pushed himself firmly into my stomach. He broke the kiss.

"I still need an answer mysterious Mandy."

"To what?" I asked as he removed his arms from round me.

"That you know we are going to make love don't you?"

I had never been put in such a strange situation before, but then I had never been with a man like Guy before; never with a man who played such mind games. The answer was simple and obvious, of course I did, but saying it was complicated and difficult. He knew that; it was as if he was reading my mind.

"It really is amazingly easy Amanda to answer you know?"

"Yes I know."

"Then do that," he said walking a few feet away from me to a round yew wood, table with drawers in it. He opened a drawer and took out a box of cigars, Davidoff I think.

"I can't," I whispered.

"Then we won't will we?" He said rolling a long cigar between the palms of both hands. "Although I am sure you do want to, don't you?" He went on cutting the end of the cigar.

"Yes," I whimpered, as he heated the end of the cigar before lighting it and puffing out a cloud of blue smoke.

"You do want to don't you Mandy?"

"Yes Guy," I said starting to walk towards him.

"No, stay right where you are," Guy said sitting down in a green leather, high backed club chair alongside the round table. "Now tell me that you have known we would make love from the moment we met haven't you?" He went on clenching the cigar in his teeth as he undid his shirt and removed it.

"Yes Guy I think I have," I reluctantly in some ways whispered as I watched him stand up again, undo his belt, slide his zip down and push his trousers off. He wasn't wearing underpants. He removed his socks and amazingly confidently stood naked in front of me before sitting down in the chair and puffing on his cigar. He wasn't at all erect.

"Then undress for me, I want to see you."

It seemed such a natural, innocuous and sensible suggestion. I had no feeling of resistance whatsoever, I wanted to undress, I wanted him to see my body. I realised that I wanted this man, who I had only met a few hours ago, to fuck me.

Reaching up and behind my neck I took hold of the back of the halter neck of the dress and eased the two velcro 'fasteners' apart. My heart was pounding as I stared at the naked man sitting in the leather chair puffing on a cigar. I suddenly remembered that I was in one of the oldest and most famous colleges in one of the world's foremost universities. The mullioned windows were open and I could hear the sounds of Cambridge wafting in just as I could smell the aromatic cigar smoke. It was quite some cocktail of sensations.

I felt many things. Arousal, obviously; fascination, naturally; fear, largely of the unknown, slightly; sense of adventure, strongly; and desire, hugely. What I didn't feel was guilt and that surprised me. By peeling the front of my dress slowly down and baring my full breasts to Guy I was doing what was arguably the most outrageous and, in many ways, the most wanton thing I had ever done. Having done that, I just stood there the ends of the neck strap in either hand and stared at him through the cloud of blue cigar smoke. What was I expecting, his approval, compliments maybe his concerns, after all they do sag a little, but then thirty five double d cup, suckled breasts do that? I didn't know what I was expecting or hoping for, but it was certainly not.

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