Paul and Paula - Her Story 01

But as I always did, I reviewed the facts logically and came to the same conclusion. I was who I was by choice and had no regrets. Secure in my decision, I continued on with college and my sexual exploits. After all, I was Paula, right?

After the semester, Professor Jeffers and I had a run-in at the library. One thing led to another, and I was over at his place for dinner. He ordered Chinese for us, and we chatted until it arrived. As he was no longer my professor, I could speak with him about my life, and I could also indulge in my sexual fantasy of being intimate with a professor.

After dinner, we sipped wine on his couch, getting closer as time passed. I could tell he wanted me, but he held off, unlike young male students who could not wait. I tell you experience makes a person a better lover, as I found out later.

"I don't want to call you Dr. Jeffers anymore," I finally said.

"Call me Frank," he replied. "I'm just a friend now."

"I like us being friends," I replied. "Friends with benefits, that is."

He smiled politely and nodded. He knew that I had just set a boundary. But then I had let him know my philosophy in life earlier, hadn't I? And he knew my reputation: no attachments, no commitments, and no exclusivity.

As soft jazz played in the background, our cuddling led to kissing then petting over our clothes. Frank fondled my breasts as I rubbed his impressive bulge. There were rumors about Frank from other women, students, and a few staffers at the university. And from what I could tell, they seemed to be true.

Now I was no stranger to large cock. As in real-life male member statistics, most men at the university were not hung like a horse. But then, the ones with small cocks kept to themselves, not wanting for word of their shortcomings to become public knowledge. Everyone knew that people talked, and girls were brutal when comparing notes.

So most young bucks that were aggressive were on the average to larger than average size scale. An average guy was more likely to indulge in oral sex to have something to offer. While the larger guys... well, while they felt good inside, were not much on the effort front. Word got around about them fast, and girls lined up for a shot at big dick. That made most of these well-endowed young men arrogant and focused on their satisfaction.

"What! I gave you the big D. What more do you want?" While they didn't exactly say it, they knew there were girls lined up for them and didn't care. And sadly, most girls swooned over the size and ignored all else.

"Honey, all I need is that big tube stake in me to rock my world. I don't care about foreplay or that shit."

That is verbatim what one of my roommates had said of a stud we had both sampled. I had dared to critique his lack of skill other than putting it in and pounding away. The guy was a football player. Tall, handsome, lanky, and sporting a ten-inch dick, was quite in demand. And he was typical of these guys.

Once we were alone, he had exposed his large cock that was almost hard, saying, "suck my dick." Which I did, since I was there for the sex as well, but he didn't take long to cum, as most young men have little control of their orgasms. My mouth was flooded with cum without warning as he held my head down with his strong large hands. "Swallow it," he said, and not having much choice, I did. Well, some anyway. The rest dripped down my chin on my blouse.

"Take your clothes off," the football man had said as he lay on the bed waiting for me impatiently.

I had hoped we would fuck first, as many of these young men came quickly then ran out the door. But this guy, be it due to my looks or my reputation, wanted more. So I lay next to him, spreading my legs.

"Can you eat me until you are ready to go again?" I had asked.

"Bitch, I don't eat cunt. If you want to fuck, you get my dick hard with your mouth and quit stalling."

Oh, my hero! I contemplated walking out then, but I was horny as hell, and his large cock was as big flaccid as some guys' was hard. Paula needed some cock, and there was one there. Attached to a selfish asshole, but a cock nonetheless. So I did what was expected of me and sucked Mr. Football until he was erect enough to straddle him.

Now I have to say, the sensation of being stretched and invaded by this large and fine specimen of cock was definitely worth putting up with him. The sensation inside me was similar to Garry's back home, especially when Mr. Football started sucking my tits. Something that took me over the edge, more than once... three times. OK, I wanted to get my money's worth for not having my pussy eaten.

I tried to put memories of Garry and him eating my pussy in between his cumming as he recharged. Now that was a lover. No wonder his wife, my mother, and half the neighborhood worshiped his cock. The Garrys of the world, as I was finding out with experience, were far and few in between.

Eventually, Mr. Football had tossed me on my knees, fucked me from behind, and slapped my ass. I may have cum again... a couple of times. That's before he flipped me on my back, pulled me to the edge of the mattress, and reinserted his thick-long cock in me for the last time. The pounding I received from then on almost made up for his lack of finesse. You can ask how often he made me cum with that, but I don't want to talk about it. But since we are friends, I'll tell you. I lost count.

Then once again, with no warning, Mr. Football pulled out, grabbed me by the air, and yanked me in front of him. Nothing prepared me for the sheer volume and force of his eruption. I tell you, young men at that age may be inexperienced, selfish, and all that, but they sure can cum a lot and often. I had cum all over my face, lips, neck, and tits to last a week.

Now some women would live for that kind of encounter with a "young buck," as my mom calls young men. But by this point, I had experienced enough of these man-boys that I was tired of their lack of involvement and tact. But then, most women go to a guy like that just for the fucking. And that was precisely what I received.

Years later, I would crave and sometimes indulge in men like Mr. Football. But I was never addicted to any of them. If they did not bring anything to their game, other than doing me with their big dick, I didn't leave a good review on Welp. That's a joke. There was no Welp then, but if there was a sex Welp... just sayin.

But Frank. Well... Professor Frank Jeffers was in a class all his own - with Garry. In the two years that I had been sexually active, I had lost count of how many men I had let fuck me. Most hardly left an impression. But I am blessed with the ability to cum effortlessly, so they had served their purpose, you could say.

But Frank was quite remarkable. Not only was he well endowed, but he knew what he was doing as a lover. That man had made me cum with his fingers then his tongue, and we hadn't undressed or left the couch yet. In appreciation, I took out his impressive manhood and worshiped it in a way I had only done for Garry to date.

"Yeah, baby," he had sighed over me as I licked his balls, then the shaft, and all around. "Who taught you that?"

"A girl has her secrets," I replied and took him in my mouth. Barely.

"Holy hell!" he gasped as I took half of him before his impressive tip found resistance by my tonsils.

His hands caressed my hair and face as I paid homage to probably the finest piece of manhood I had encountered in college. It was smooth, hard, thick, and the skin felt like velvet in my small hands. I could have sucked him for an hour. But I wanted his first load out and tried harder to get him there.

"Paula. Paula," he said again to get my attention. "As great as that feels, I want to do more with you."

"But, don't you want me to...."

"I don't cum easily," he said, staring into my eyes, looking for a reaction.

"Ehh..." I found myself confused. "OK... was I doing something wrong?"

"Oh no," he apologized. "I guess I should come clean. It takes me a while to cum. And... sometimes I don't at all."

"At... all?" I heard myself ask in surprise.

I had never run across a man who could do that. But as I can attest, Frank was my first such man. And in all my time with many, many men, I only ran into one more like him. But nothing close to Frank. The man was a freak of nature.

When we went to his bedroom, we began a fuckfest that lasted just over three hours. I know this because his grandfather clock rang at nine PM before we left the living room, and it rang midnight when I had to leave Franks place.

The man was not just hung, sexually talented, and a pleasure to be with, but as he had warned me, could fuck for hours. We did just about every position imaginable that night. Three hours will allow two sexually imaginative people to do that. And I came so many times that I was physically drained by then.

"I'm glad you don't want entanglements, Paula," he said near the end. "The thing is, I have another rendezvous later tonight."

I had just gotten out of his shower and was drying up when he said that. But remarkably, I believed him. The man had fucked me for three hours and not cum once. Who does that?

"Another one?" I had to ask. "At this time of night?"

"She works late and gets out of work around 2 am."

"I'm sorry I didn't help you to the finish line Frank," I replied. "But three hours is about all I can do. I need some sleep. So if not here, I need to get back to my place."

"I'll drive you. It's too late to walk," Frank replied.

'And too far, you asshole,' I thought.

"I would have driven you home," Frank said sheepishly, probably reading the expression on my face.

"No problem, we're just fuck buddies Frank," I replied as I dressed.

Outside my flat door, he stopped so I could get out. Nice of him.

"That was great, Paula," he said as I leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Let's do this again."

"Our schedules are probably full, but I think I can squeeze you in," I said with a smirk.

And I had squeezed him in. In every place, there was for a man to have a woman. But the thing is, I wanted another run at Frank, the magic man. Next to Garry, my ex-professor was the best fuck I had to date.

Frank and I never developed feelings or anything like that for each other. Mutual respect was more like it. We both loved sex with no commitments, and that suited us fine. I met him multiple times after that. If I was in the mood, I went past his school office he always left open. More than once, I walked in as another student was there and just left a note on his desk. He would smile and acknowledge the message as if it was school business and continue his conversation. Frank also knew my class schedule. He was often waiting for me after my first class down the hall. We would make plans and see each other that night.

While I saw Frank occasionally, I continued seeing other young men and went to parties. We saw each other once a week or ten days on average. I never pried into his other women, and he never asked who I was with. But when we did, the sex was fantastic.

Everything was great in my life. I was pulling a 4.0 GPA with hardly any fears of not continuing so. I was young, popular, and was getting more sex than most people get in a lifetime each month.

They say everything is sunny before the storm. Right before something happens to ruin it all. And mine did in a way I had not expected. Have you ever seen a video of a truck hitting a car at a crossroads?

That is what happened to me when I ran into HIM.

Paul Donnely.

************

End of Part 01.