Professor's Wife Ch. 02

The look on Lucille's face told me she was enjoying the show. So far I'd oiled every square inch of Eddie except for his penis. That wasn't without a purpose and it was plain to see that it wasn't just Eddie who was tense with anticipation. Lucille had that anticipatory look on her face too. I thought it was time to turn up the heat.

I stuck my fingers back in the jar and worked my hands together with interlocking fingers, holding them so both Eddie and Lucille could see them. Then in a low husky voice, I teased a little more. "Now I bet neither of you can guess what I going to do next." If they did guess, they didn't do it aloud. Eddie's only answer was to move his feet further apart -- so I'd have lots of room. I noticed Lucille licking her lips. I coaxed Eddie around so that she'd have a free view of what I was going to do.

Using both hands alternately in a milking-like motion, I massaged his now less soft penis -- occasionally stopping and switching to light tweaking and stroking the glans with my thumb and forefinger. To add suspense, I used another trick on his glans -- grasping his shaft with four fingers, I kneaded the glans with my thumb, sometimes with my thumb pressing on the end, I'd compress the head.

As soon as I got him standing out hard and throbbing, I stepped back to give Lucille a clear view of my result. She nodded approval and with her comment, essentially said what was expected to follow. "Looks great Sara! And I can see Eddie is really pleased. Too bad we have to wipe off the olive oil that you so skillfully applied to his penis."

At that point, there really was no longer any doubt that she wanted me to have intercourse with her husband. When I reached around for a towel, she interrupted. "Oh let me do it. You can put on the YES, that is if you need it. Come on, I already got the bed ready."

And indeed she did have the bed ready. The covers were pulled all the way back and the sheet was covered with a giant beach towel. Lucille offered the superfluous explanation."

Although knowing what the two of them wanted, I still gave Lucille a coy questioning look. With a rich smile she nodded, first a yes nod, then a nod in the direction of the bed. I lay down on my back, feet on the bed, knees raised and slightly apart. On his knees next to me, Eddie separated my legs and positioned himself between them. Lucille was watching intently, calm able to wait for what was very soon to follow. Without a word, Eddie moved in close and holding his penis by the base, put the head in my slit and trolled. Gasping for breath, I was conscious of a low sound of pleasure escaping my lips.

Then my opening yielded to his measured thrust and he was partly inside me, then stopping as if unsure asked, "Can we do without the YES?"

Now gasping all the more, I barely got out my affirmative answer. He went in further, slowly and by degrees, as if pausing to allow my vagina to adjust to what he and Lucille perceived to be a monster penis, always asking if everything was okay. It was all I could do to keep from just telling him to ram it in and fuck me hard. Instead I thrust upward and then he was buried in me. My pent up passion took over and I initiated a wild thrusting rhythm, sometimes backing down so far that he would slip out completely. My wanton action was like the signal Eddie needed because he began thrusting with more than equal abandon. There we were, our bodies slamming together in unison -- so much in unison that the frictional effect of his penis inside me was lost. Lucille thought to fix that by holding me down by the hips. I screamed with my release, he at nearly the same time, beseeching God for something or other as his cum splattered in my sensitive passages.

It was only then, afterwards as we were lying on the bed and cooling down, that it struck me that Lucille was still wearing her work uniform. When Eddie finally rolled off me, she moved right in with a ready washcloth and towel to clean us up. It also struck me how natural a thing is was for her to wipe both her husband's genitals and mine -- almost like a servant in a sheikh's harem. When she finished with her clean-up chore, she turned to me and in a perfectly natural tone of voice asked if I could stay for coffee and a snack.

In no hurry to go home to an empty house, I accepted and Eddie got a couple robes from a closet and helped me on with one before cladding himself. By the time we got to the living room, Lucille was busy in the kitchen making coffee.

Eddie and I sat down on the couch and shortly Lucille had coffee and a dish of brownies on the coffee table. With Eddie in the middle, we sat together on the sofa. What do you talk about after a FFM three-way with a married couple? I opened with a thanks for inviting me to try out their hot tub and a compliment on how nicely they had furnished their apartment. Sound odd? What should I have said? Should I have thanked Lucille for letting me jack off and fuck her husband?

In any case, Lucille pretty quickly steered the conversation in a personal direction. How long had I been married? Any kids? What did Bert do for a living? How'd we happen to move to New Jersey? How did we like living in New Jersey? And so forth.

I posed questions along those lines and about Eddie's Army career. They answered openly but it became apparent that they, especially Lucille, wanted to get into really personal stuff. "Sara, I told you before how I had surgery that went south. In fact, that's not the whole story. What actually happened is something I don't tell too many people."

That got me pretty darned interested and I did my best at giving a look of sympathy and trustfulness.

"You see, I used to be into tattoos and piercing, well not just into, more like I got addicted -- especially piercings. One thing led to another. Nostrils, septum, navel, nipples and then genital. Both Eddie and I were so pleased with the VCH that I started looking towards getting some labia jewelry. About that time, Eddie got transferred to Fort Sill, Oklahoma and I had to go to a piercer I didn't know. The place looked okay and the operator made a reasonable impression so I went ahead with it."

My interest perked up because something that had puzzled me for years was why people pay good money to make themselves uglier. In fact, this tattoo and piercing shit always reminds me of those female-circumcising nuts in Africa and parts of the Mideast who insist on demolishing perfectly good cunts.

"My guess is that he didn't work so clean because it all got infected. Some friends -- piercing fans -- thought maybe Eddie and I had had sex too soon after the piercing. Maybe so. Whatever the cause, I waited too long to see a doctor -- probably out of embarrassment. When I finally went to the hospital, they saved my life but in the course of surgeries to fight the infection, my pussy ended up with about the same dysfunctional condition as millions of women who have to endure FGM."

Upon hearing a story like that, what does one say? I would have liked to ask how she could have ever brought herself to go into a tattoo place, get undressed and let some skuzzy looking low life work on her pussy. But that would have been too cruel. I did my best pulling myself together and expressing sympathy for her sufferings. What else would have been correct? After all, say you go visit a dying cancer patient who's coughing up blood, you don't scold them for burning up two packs a day since they were 20 years old.

Not seeing a way to pry more details out of Lucille, I wasn't sure how to close the conversation and go home. The two of them just looked at me with expectant facial expressions. Maybe they thought I had some juicy past to confess to. Of course I did, but I'd never told anyone aside from my husband and I wasn't about to start telling anyone else. Maybe they expected me to suggest a return engagement. I'd enjoyed the afternoon immensely but it didn't compare to any afternoon with one of my husband's young students back in Madison.

Perhaps if I didn't get something going with his new students -- well I knew where Eddie worked.