Roller Coaster Ride Ch. 08

Nashville Cat

After leaving sweet Janet, I ride around considering Katy's pending train wreck.

I see a text saying he's free now, so I make another call, to the one person I know in Nashville; my old high school buddy Dub. We visit, he explains that he wasn't down for Christmas because he had several good-paying gigs, then says "Thanks for the Christmas card. I'm sure your lovely Angel, sent it, but you can thank her for me."

"How about I give you her number and you call her? She's gotten caught up with a jackass from Nashville whose pure intentions I doubt. I'm hoping you can talk to her and at least steer her away from the train wreck I see coming."

Dub is quiet, then: "Jackass got a name?"

"Brad McBride" I reply.

"Well, fuck! I don't know all the jackasses in Nashville -- there are far too many -- but I do know BM. He's a minor league player who thinks he's Babe Ruth, and he uses performers like...

"Wait, how did Katy get involved with that SOB?"

I give a quick explanation, tell him what Brittney told me, and wait for his response.

"Brittney Adams? I love that girl! Not as much as I love your wife, but close! How the fuck did those two get caught up with Brad McBride? No, it doesn't matter. Sure, I'll call Katy, flirt my ass off, and see what I can learn. I know the ropes around here now, so I'll ask around. Maybe I can offer some good advice when we talk, but, my friend, you know that doesn't mean she will listen. Neon dreams override logic."

I offer my thanks, and tell him I'm certain they have a scheme or they wouldn't be hustling the Continentals like they are. He again hesitates: "I really hate to hear that; I love those guys. Good Texas band, love the music, very talented. But they had a shot, did all right, and walked away.

"That is suicide in Nashville; they don't invite you back! So, you're right; that's suspicious. And why are Chad and the boys even listening? I get it with the girls: who wouldn't want to bang those two? But trying to resurrect a washed-out band? Not like Brad at all! I'll dig into that."

I thank him and say goodbye.

I cruise around, avoiding going home to my wife, afraid of my reaction if she continues to ignore me or defend the jackasses she fucked last night. I ride by Joyce's dress shop, see her standing by the door talking to someone who's leaving, and, on a whim, I pull in. "Hey, Joyce, how are you?"

She looks sheepish, says she is fine, and asks how we're doing. I tell her Katy is immersed in getting ready for the dance tomorrow night and tonight's practice, and ask if she's riding with Katy again. She says she is, in case of any last minute alterations. I tell her she'll love the band, but watch out because they are big flirts, and very likely to try to bed her and Katy after practice. She laughs warily.

"Joyce, I'm looking to buy a gift for my prof. She's letting me take the final today instead of three weeks ago so I could focus on the football playoffs back then. She's about 5 ft. 9, weighs about 130, and she's around 40 years old, but looks 25. I saw size 6 on a dress she was wearing: any ideas?"

Joyce ponders. "Let me think... Is she married? What is her personality and how about her husband? Lingerie is a little personal, but since she can't try your gift on first..."

"They are both super cool; fun couple, very liberal. I'm sure he would appreciate sexy lingerie....and she probably would also." I reflect.

"Hair and skin tone? Here is the selection -- see anything you like?" she asks.

"Hell yeah, I see a lot I'd like. What would look good on an olive complexioned brunette with brown eyes?" I query.

"This light coral and aquamarine negligee set, maybe? Can you see her wearing this?" she asks, holding it up in front of herself.

"Looks dang good on you!" I flirt. "Yes, I can see her wearing it, but I'd better not picture that...Been a tough couple of days; probably better I don't try to imagine women in sheer lingerie. But, I'll take it."

Joyce eyes me as she gift-wraps the negligee "What did you mean by 'tough days'?"

I explain, in a very rational voice, "Katy has been so preoccupied by the dance tomorrow night and practice she isn't at all receptive to my advances. On the other hand, maybe I'm reading it wrong: maybe she's getting what she needs elsewhere. What do you think?"

She looks sick and/or guilty, but shrugs her shoulders in ignorance.

Given that response, I lean toward her, make a show of looking around, put my hand on her waist, and ask conspiratorially "Given the situation I find myself in, I hope you are ready to follow through on those promises you made at the Gala; I could sure use your assistance!"

She's made it clear enough in the past that she's available anytime, anywhere, but she almost recoils at my words.

"I...I...I'm Katy's friend. I was just teasing you. We can't..."

I take her arm and look at the stairs to the apartment "You sure? I promise it will be memorable. And you kind of promised."

She lets me pull her toward the stairs a step or two, halts, blanches, and tells me she just can't; she has customers, and...and Katy is her friend!

I look her directly in the eyes and say "Then I assume you are making sure your married friend behaves and avoids the clutches of the predators she's around."

Joyce blushes red, looking away with a frightened face; her gaze returns to me slowly and she says quietly "I'm trying."

"So, getting her back at mid-night from a practice that ended at 8pm, with dried cum in her hair and hickeys all over her body -- that's the best you could do?" I ask coldly.

"I wonder when you'll get back from tonight's dress rehearsal that is supposed to end at 9. It's in Columbus, so surely by 10-10:30, right?"

She looks frightened but defiant: "You should be having this conversation with your wife, shouldn't you?"

"I have, but I want another person to know that I'm not a willing cuckold; if that what's happening, there will be retribution of the highest order," I say tersely.

I turn her arm loose, and she replies, "I understand how you feel, and no one would ever think of you as a cuckold, but Katy is just chasing her dreams; be patient and understanding, okay?"

"As long as unimpeachable boundaries aren't crossed, I will be, I promise; if they are..." I turn, pick up the gift, and stride out without looking back.

I got back to the house just before 2 pm. Katy is still in the office working on something, but she's already dressed in her practice gear, and has a bag ready to go. "Spending the night?" I ask.

"No, of course not: the uniforms are in there. We need to make sure they fit, and wear them at least part of the time during practice," she quickly replies.

"I'm sure I'll enjoy Bree, Brittney, and Angie wearing the costumes; will I be pleased with my wife?" I query.

She studies me for a moment, smiles, and teases, "Oh, I think you will - very much! It's the kind of costume you love!"

"The kind of costume I like to see you wearing in our bedroom, or in front of a bunch of drunken frat boys and horny musicians?" I ask testily.

"Please, Tim, let me enjoy this. You know this is one of my fantasies; just let me have this and we will return to normal with the New Year" Katy cajoles.

I walk to her, put my hands on her shoulders, and tell her "Okay. You know I love and support you. I'm just worried that you're a babe in the woods playing an adults' game. Dub says the name of the NHL team is in honor of the music industry big wigs: the Nashville Predators. At least talk with Brittney; she spent three years in Nashville and understands the game and how it is played. Will you do that?"

She stands up, hugs me, assures me she will, and then reminds me no one will be there tonight but the dancers and the band, so to quit worrying.

I look at her and sardonically say "Yeah, no problems there; I mean, there are only 3 or 4, maybe 5, of those guys who would give their left nut to fuck you. Not counting the manager, or 'Brad', of course."

She laughs aloud, nods, smiles broadly, and says Charlie and Brad aren't going to be there, and she can handle the boys; they're basically harmless, plus all the dancers and Joyce will be there too!

My gaze fixes her; I warn, "Tiene cuidado; you're skating on thin ice," turn, and head upstairs to get ready to go take the final.

There isn't a lot to say that hasn't been said and I don't want to be here if Dub calls, so I get ready to go to Austin. I walk into the office, where she's still on the computer, tell her I'm going to beat the traffic, kiss her on the cheek, and turn to go. She tells me goodbye without looking up. I tell her good luck, and

I'm walking out the door just as the phone rings; she picks it up, and I pause as I hear her say "Well, speak of the devil! Tim was just talking about you!"

"Yes, he's gone, and no, I'm not going to have phone sex with you! How are you? And why didn't you come home for Christmas?" I slip away; hopeful Dub can accomplish what I can't.

Post Graduate Education: The Examination

I have a sausage plate in Elgin, catch up on sports news on my phone apps, and then continue my short journey. The trip through Austin to Westlake is not as bad as I expected, mainly because I use streets instead of the freeways when I get into Austin. Dr. Lowry -- Paula -- meets me at the door, invites me in and takes my little gift. She raises her eyebrows "A little something for you and your husband, for being so understanding this semester, not a bribe" I assure her, laughing.

She has a couple of glasses and plate settings on the table, with a bottle of wine. I tell her "Looks like you have plans; give me the test and I'll get out of your hair ASAP." She laughs "Peter and I planned to feed you tonight, but he got sent to Utah by the Provost, so you and I are dining alone. Would you like some wine?"

I smile "Maybe after the exam..." She laughs merrily "There is no exam: surprise! The paper you did was in lieu of the exam, but I need to document that we met to go over the results. Don't worry: you got an A on the paper and for the class. In fact, you were my top student, so just relax and enjoy the wine."

I exhale noisily "Actually, I truly am prepared for the exam, but if my choice is drinking wine with a beautiful and intelligent lady or taking a test, yes, I'd like some wine."

"I've already started, so I'm pouring you a little extra" she says as she fills a glass. She toasts "To Teachers' Pets"; I rejoin, "And to gorgeous college teachers who understand exigency." We enjoy that glass and start another, engaged in easy conversation.

I shouldn't be looking at my prof like I am, but I can't keep my eyes off her. She's gorgeous; classically dressed in fitted pants and a button up blouse you can almost see through, wearing heels that make her slender legs look incredibly long. She gets up and disappears into the kitchen, returning with two plates of chicken piccata and salads; both are delicious. I compliment her "Classy, beautiful, brilliant, and a good cook? Peter hit the jackpot."

"Speaking of Peter, he's out of his meeting now; I need to call him" she says and dials him on speaker phone. He picks up right away "Guess who I'm having supper and drinking wine with Peter?"

"Your favorite student, Tim Kelly; hello, Tim" he rejoins.

"Hello, Dr. Lowry. Wish you were here; the meal was excellent, the wine is exceptional, and the company is sublime. Your wife is a treasure, sir" I respond.

He quickly says "Please, it's Peter and Paula; we aren't in class. And I agree; she's a treasure. Glad you're enjoying yourselves."

Paula says, "Tim brought a gift for both of us. Shall I open it?"

I worriedly interject, "I thought you'd both be here when I picked this out, so sorry if I overstepped, Peter."

"Now I'm totally intrigued. Open it, Paula."

She does, and squeals with delight "It's a negligee! And it is in colors I've never seen before. You are going to love this! Let me send you a picture!"

I look sheepish, but it seems everything is going fine. Peter says "Holy smokes! I love it! Model it for us; give me something to help me through the cold lonely Utah night!"

Paula looks at me, grins, and goes into the kitchen. I chat with Peter about his trip, his return tomorrow, and their holiday plans.

Paula returns, and she takes my breath away. I use her phone to shoot a short video as she models, and send it to him. "This should keep you warm tonight, Peter." He watches it, takes a deep breath, and says now he REALLY wishes he was here, or she was there, and he might actually have more trouble sleeping tonight."

I agree with him "She's stunning, isn't she! I thought the gown was pretty, but on her -- WOW!" Paula beams and struts around the table, acting like a 20 year old, as I stare and my cock grows and grows. Yes, I'm on the phone with her husband, but damn she's fine!

Peter looks away; he says that is his dinner partner at the door, so he must go. "Y'all have fun, and take good care of my wife, Tim!"

After he hangs up, for the first time I feel a bit uncomfortable in Paula's presence, by myself. It could be how she's dressed, and the prurient nature of my thoughts, but she looks totally at ease. After pouring us another glass of wine, she sits down in the chair beside me. I'm sure she knows I can see her big breasts, her gumdrop size nipples, and pretty much all the rest of her body, but she seems unconcerned, even giddy.

"Let's move to the couch" she commands. I take a seat on the end; she sits in the middle and turns her incredibly long lovely legs toward me, still wearing her heels with the flimsy negligee. This feels like a porn movie, but with a gorgeous and classy leading lady and a tongue-tied boy as her foil.

"So, you like the way your gift looks on me. Know how I can tell?" she asks, as she reaches out and runs her hand over the swollen cock I'm trying to hide. "I've noticed that big thing in class, but it's even more impressive up close. How big is it?"

"Normally, just shy of 10 inches, but right now, maybe 12 inches. God, you are too sexy and way too gorgeous. This isn't fair!" She traces the outline of my cock and gets even closer, draping her right leg over me. Her legs are open, and I can see the faint outline of her bare pussy.

"Kiss me!" she orders. I put my left arm around her, pull her to me, and begin kissing her while dropping my right hand onto her bare leg above the knee. She's a dynamite kisser; her skin is silken, and her perfume is inflaming me even more. I envelop her in my arms and crush her to me; she twists to face me, straddling my legs, and we continue to kiss passionately.

"Not how I expected to be tested. Is your husband okay with this?" I ask, not really caring if he isn't.

"Yes, he knows I planned to seduce you, and he approves." "Damn, I'm a lucky man tonight!" I chortle.

I kiss down her throat, between her breasts, raise the gown, and suckle her big titties topped with chewy gumdrops. They are delicious and responsive; she's soon panting. My hands are all over her, but I love her tight little butt and can't quit squeezing it. She pulls my shirt over my head, and rubs those big titties against my chest. "God, Tim, you are so BIG and strong! I've never held anyone like you. I don't normally like jocks, but you are just too scrumptious to resist! I've wanted you all semester!"

"Don't think I haven't watched you walking around, all long legs and high heels, standing up on the dais showing us that tight butt, bending over to show us those marvelous tits and those great legs in a single pose, always looking sexy as hell. I've had a hard on during every class period and every video chat, and you've starred in a score of fantasies, but I never dreamed my 'final exam' would include holding you in my arms."

"Oh, it includes much more than that, Stud."

With that she stood up, took off her negligee, unpantsed me, and fell to her knees at my feet. She grasps my swollen cock at the base, says it is everything she imagined it to be, and rubs it around her face and mouth: "Let's see if you taste as good as you look!"

She licks my cock like an ice cream cone, slavishly paying attention to the head with her mouth, getting it covered with slobber. Her hands and fingers play lightly on my shaft and balls. She raises up, gets her mouth directly above my cock head, and forces it into her mouth. Tight fit, but the slobber gets it past her teeth; she immediately resumes swirling her tongue around the head, and sucking so hard her cheeks are concave. Her eyes return to mine, and she looks directly at me as she bobs up and down, swirls, and sucks; best BJ I've ever had, and I let her know!

She winks and continues for a few minutes before I grab her hair and pull her up. "Enough! You are an amazingly skilled cocksucker, but I want those long legs wrapped around me!"

I stand, set her on the edge of the couch, kneel before her and assault her pretty pussy. Naturally, it tastes delicious; not as light and sweet as Janet or my wife, but creamy and sweet and tangy. I find those things that make her moan, gasp, and move her hips, and use them to bring her closer and closer to the climax she anticipates and wants.

The fingers of my right hand intrude into her tight cunt, while my left tease her little bunghole; she begins to arch her back. I quickly scoop some of her juices on my middle finger left hand, deposit it on her little asshole, and work it in just as my darting tongue begins to flick her clit.

That is what she needed: she wraps those legs tightly around my head, arches her hips into the air, freezes up, and her whole body endures a huge convulsion. Words and sounds pour out of her mouth, but they are gurgled rather than spoken. Finally she begins to soften and settles back; she wiggles her hips on my fingers, keeping those in her ass and her cunt entrapped, and says "Thank you! That was amazing, and it wasn't even the main course, was it? I can't wait to get filled with your huge cock, but give me a moment -- I'm sooooo sensitive right now!" I wiggle my fingers "Really?"

She coos and moans: "Actually, that feels good; maybe my sensitivity is declining."

It has been my experience that when a woman maintains sensitivity through the period after the orgasm, her sensitivity will be elevated higher through the next step in the love making, whatever that is. Her legs are still draped over my shoulders, her pussy on the edge of the couch; still kneeling I straighten until her heels are on my shoulders, and her soaked pussy is against the head of my cock. I press it between her lips, which spread in welcome.

I move it up and down her slit rather than in and out, dredging her vaginal opening with my trowel. She hisses, moving away at first, and then rubbing herself up and down my engorged cock as the pleasure overtakes her. She looks me in the eyes as I tease her: "Fuck me! Fuck me now! That is enough teasing!"

I continue, but pull my fingers from her cunt and ass to maul those big tits. She grabs me by the arms and tries to pull me into her, but I'm far too strong to be manhandled by this lightweight. She begins to beg "Please! Please fuck me with your big cock. My little pussy needs you inside. I'm going crazy!" And indeed, she is moving all around, moaning and groaning as she seeks fulfillment of the act.

Her classically beautiful face is contorted with lust, she's panting, her body seeking my cock and my seed. I'm lost in lust myself, and I suddenly relent, filling her in one stroke that inserts 6 or 7 inches inside her; she shouts "Ohhhh! So big...you're so big! I'm so full, so full."

She reaches between us to capture the base of my cock: "Oh my god - there's another handful to go! I've never had anyone this size with this much length; please go easy with me -- I don't know how much more I can take!"