Sex Club for Nerds and Geeks Ch. 10

"Blew you."

"Yes." If she already knows, why is she asking?

"It wasn't a complete success, it was her first time. I wanted her to have something positive to take to work, so we, uh, did it again."

"Let me get this straight. You munched this virgin to orgasm, then deflowered her shortly after eleven in the morning, fucked her a second time, made her lunch, took a shower with her, then she blew you, you fucked her a third time, and you hustled her out of your apartment before five in the afternoon?"

"Uh, four."

"Okay, before four."

I was panicked. "Did I do something wrong? I hope I didn't hurt her, she seemed okay." I was sweating.

"Oh no, no, nothing wrong, nothing wrong at all. Very right." She patted my hand.

"From what I know of first times, my own included, most girls' first times are usually no better than awkward, often a lot worse. If there is a second time during the same session, it's better, but most times the experience is unfulfilling. Usually they don't have an orgasm.

"You brought her to an orgasm every time, including before you deflowered her, and you gave her an excellent introductory lesson in blowjobs.

"Do you have any idea — no, of course you don't." She seemed exasperated.

"You are such a romantic. She's falling for you, and for good reason.

"You did really well by not following up the day after that first time, no flowers, that sort of thing. She was worried that you didn't like her, that she was too easy, that she didn't please you, but we talked it out.

"My job is to help her through the transition. Romantic girls like Carrie expect to fall head-over-heels for their first guy, they'll pine away for each other, send flowers. You didn't. That's best in this situation.

"She was thrilled that you showed up this morning. Jumping her in her room is classic! You reassured her of her desirability after setting the boundary. You're not planning to show up at the game tomorrow, are you?"

"No, of course not. I've got work to do."

"Good, I figured you knew not to, but I wanted to be sure."

"I really like her, I haven't hurt her, have I?"

"Were you hurt when Julia left?"

"That was different. I knew she had to go back home."

"And the fact that she hasn't written, not phoned, and texted only eight letters and a space, that doesn't bother you?"

"Nooo," I said, trying to remember the last time I'd even thought about her as a person.

"That's the way it works. In this situation, the girl needs to move on, get a new lover soon after. It's pretty much the same, girls or guys. Now we have to provide the second lover, so they get used to the way things work."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And you are going to provide her the second lover?"

"Jealous?"

I exhaled. "Yes, a little."

"Typical male," she smiled. "Yes. George called the other day and I persuaded him to come down the middle of next week." She looked at me steadily.

"You won't mess this up, right?"

"Right. No. It's just, uh, well, uh, I like her. I mean I feel responsible for her learning things the right way."

"Pygmalion."

"Yeah, true."

"She's gotta fly, you know."

"And she will, I know." I sighed and retreated into a reverie. After about ten seconds, I snapped out of it.

"Okay, now let's get down to business." She looked at me closely, then took a small pad from her purse.

"Amanda says she's got three candidates, they're perfect for the club. They're here for the summer and are either sophomores or juniors. Two guys and a girl, ready to go. Add you, me, Lisa, Carrie, that's four girls and three guys. If you guys are willing to spread yourselves around, we can have fun this summer." She smiled.

"Tom, my audio-visual friend, could even the count," I pointed out. "I haven't gotten to the point of telling him about the club, but he's our kind of guy, nice but just too busy to date.

"Four is a good start," she said. "You know how much I want to keep the club going during the year, and us being here this summer is a great opportunity to recruit. I hate this starting-over-every-Fall thing.

"The point of the club is reassurance that they are wanted, have value. Choice is a big part of that, each member has a lot of sure bets to pick from, no hassle. Four just isn't the same as 20 or 30."

"Can Amanda stall them? I'm thinking I'll just hang out with Tom, we'll go tomcatting around this summer, then I'll tell him about the club this Fall."

"Our mission is to help them to happiness," Margery said, "not delay that happiness. Once they're ready, it seems wrong to put institutional preservation ahead of personal, uh, salvation. Right?"

"How about this?" I proposed. "We each take one of them on, use condoms. I don't know Amanda's two guys, but Tom will fit right in, I'm sure. So you take him on and I'll do the new girl. Assuming they work out, then you and Lisa take on the two new guys. Afterwards, we have an orgy and post the results on YouTube."

She smacked me on the shoulder. "Apart from the orgy and YouTube, there's a germ of a plan there. Lisa will do it, I'm sure, she likes new talent, I've just never been up-front with her about it. Then we could do the picnic with no stress, just be social.

"Why don't you check with Amanda and see what she says? Now, how do we get Tom into this?"

"He's not seeing anyone now, I know that. Probably simple is better. We all work days. The three of us have dinner, I excuse myself and you put your moist palm on his hand, look him straight in the eye, and say 'let's fuck, I can't wait another second.' "

"You have such a way with words."

"I'm getting into this, maybe too much. When do you feel satisfied, that you've achieved something?"

"Ruth and I have talked about this. It's complicated, and I think very female. I'll explain it when we get drunk sometime."

*

I stayed up past three, running the selection software on the 314 responses we had. Every category was filled.

After making sure that Carrie, Lisa, Margery, and Tom were selected, I sent 150 emails announcing that they had been accepted for the study. I also sent emails to the other 164 responses saying the survey was oversubscribed but that we would keep their applications on file in case we needed more subjects.

Those accepted were instructed to make an appointment for their interview using a secure website as soon as possible, for sure by Wednesday. The appointments had to be during the day, Monday through Friday, anytime between nine to noon and one to four. Saturday, nine to noon.

They couldn't complete the appointment process until they downloaded a consent form, which they were to sign and bring to the interview, along with their student ID. They would be paid after the interview.

After masturbating to thoughts of Carrie, I fell asleep.

*

Brunch at Lit was a mob scene. There was a twenty-minute wait and they had a hostess assembling mixed tables. I was seated with a man and a woman and what had to be their son.

The parents were feeling nostalgic. It seems that 31 years ago they'd arrived as freshmen. The son looked like he'd heard this story a million times.

"The registration line was long, and slow, and it was really hot," said the father, "no internet registration then. There wasn't much to do, so I scanned around for pretty girls. Then I noticed this gorgeous girl right in front of me.

"She was talking to the guy in front of her. Her ponytail swayed when she laughed, which was often. I didn't have the courage to interrupt them. We finished registering at the same time and I worked up the nerve to ask her to have lunch."

"His idea of lunch was a vending machine," laughed the mother. "We couldn't stop talking. We walked all over campus, into town and back. From that night on we were inseparable." She flashed a "and-you-now-what-that-means" grin. "We got married after junior year. Paul here is the last of the brood." He looked like he wanted to run away.

I snapped them as a couple, Paul alone, and as a family, eleven pictures in all. They liked them and the mom produced her business card, asking me to send the photos.

Lisa was hopping. We weren't at one of her tables, but she hip-bumped me once as she went by. Our waiter hustled us along and. as we stood to leave, I promised to send a link of the pictures on Flickr.

Amanda wasn't at her desk. "She's got seniority, works weekdays mostly," said the guy sitting at her desk.

Every one of the Facebook pages for everyone I could think of had been updated, except Carol's. Carrie's had used the photo I'd taken and Chrissy was crowing about how much fun she would be having at band camp.

Sixty-three appointments were already booked, including three for Wednesday, when I logged onto the site.

Since Lisa was working lunch, I figured she might be free for dinner. Her cell went straight to voicemail.

After driving around the outskirts of the ag school for an hour, I found what seemed like the place the cop had mentioned. On the border of a huge corn field, row after row, not a building in sight, I spotted a small stand of trees, set right up against the road, with scruffy undergrowth between them. It would never do.

As I crunched along the roadside gravel back to the car, Lisa returned my call. She was just leaving Lit and was hammered. Could she have a rain check?

As I passed the park on my way back, I saw the huge "CLOSED" sign on the chain that blocked the pulloff.

I was contemplating dinner alone at the union when Lisa called.

"Can I cash in that rain check? I took a nice nap and I'm hungry."

"Sure. Anywhere you'd like to go?"

"Out of town, please. I have HAD it with the hordes."

Friday's student newspaper had contained, besides our ad, a favorable review of a restaurant about fifteen miles up the river. It served Italian food at moderate prices. I called, got a reservation for 8:00, and phoned Lisa back.

"Slight dress code, slacks or skirt, and a blouse. Okay?"

"Ummm, classy. Sure."

"7:30?"

"See ya."

The place was cozy, with the river rushing past the open porch where we ate. Except for needing a citronella candle to keep the bugs away, it was perfect. She insisted on dutch.

We parked the car at Ruth's and walked to the apartment. Like the established lovers we were, we undressed each other leisurely, kissing and tickling.

"Dessert," I said, walking her backwards onto the end of the bed.

"We already had dessert."

"That was food, THIS is dessert," and I started working her pussy with my tongue. Her heat came quickly and her clit sprang out. Soon she was swinging her head and licking her lips as she moaned happily, beginning to breathe hard.

I wanted her orgasm to come from her clit, not from that hyper-sensitive breast.

"Oh my, oh yes, so good, so nice, so niiiice," she moaned. I fingered her, fluttering, in and out, tracing across the inside top of her pussy, then around her pussy lips and up to her now-prominent clit.

"Keep going, oh yes, oh yessss." Once sucked into my mouth, her clit took over her body and she began to hump at me. She jerked up as I combined pressing it against my teeth and fluttering my fingers on the inside top wall of her pussy.

She clamped her thighs shut and humped against me. "Oh my god yesssssssss, yeah, yeah, YEAH!" and she stiffened and jerked wildly in orgasm, taking me with her.

I was only getting started.

Both nipples were firm, and my favorite breast was ready for attack. Seven o'clock came to life and the nipple got hard. I twisted the nipple on her right breast, trying for some parallel response. At first there wasn't much, her moans coming because I was working the left one, so I switched my mouth to the right one. Maybe five minutes of effort later, she responded.

"Oh god, god, you're getting me, that one's nice too, god make me cum again, keep doing that." I worked two fingers in her pussy and played with her clit while I tongued the breast. She was so close that, when I pulled off her nipple and blew, her hips sailed upward.

"GODDDDDDD that's it! Oh god, I am cumming, now, ohhhhh," and her thighs crashed over my hand. I kept playing with her as she came, then escaped her thighs and settled next to her.

"Please, sir, may I have another?" she croaked.

I spread her legs and slotted my cockhead just barely inside her pussy lips. And stopped, totally still.

At first she lay quietly, waiting, but I remained completely still. She opened her eyes and looked questioningly at me, but I kept my expression as bland as I could.

Her first pulse was weak, I barely felt it. The second one was stronger but I was able to remain impassive.

Suddenly she lurched forward and had about three inches of my cock inside her. She clenched her legs around my waist and swung her hips in a counter-clockwise direction, holding my cock tight with her pussy muscles.

"Gotcha! You'll never get away!"

I couldn't stroke, but I could push in. I started forward but she scooted back. I thrust harder and she retreated. I thrust again and she hit the headboard. By now I was on my hands above her. Determined, I shoved once more, and she took me completely inside, with her legs still holding me.

"Now you're mine. I'm going to milk you."

"I'm not going to cum, you can't make me."

"Bet?"

"Sure, but I should warn you, I know the names of every king of six European nations, from the thirteenth century onward. I'll be so distracted you'll —" when the first ripple, from the base of my cock to the head, caught my attention.

Gustav. George. Gunther. Uh, Conan. Uh, uh, who cares, I was bluffing anyway. Truth of the matter, I wanted to cum so bad I tried to help her by spasming my cock.

After the third ripple, I lost control. As soon as it started, she dropped her legs and I was free to pump, and I did. "I win! Fuck me, fuck me! Fuck! Fuck! Oh god you feel so good. FUUUUCK!"

I came in technicolor flashes and fell on top of her, then shifted quickly to the side, gasping. She stroked my cheek and kissed my forehead as I drifted in a fog. I slid out and she helpfully licked me clean.

When I woke around seven, there was Lisa, naked, printing eight of the drunken college student images on six pages, cropped, re-arranged, and captioned.

"Perfect timing. You're gonna like this," she said confidently.

"How long have you been up?"

"Four-thirty. I just woke up with the portfolio at the top of my brain. I don't know Photoshop but there's a free program that I do know, so I made copies of your images and I've been playing with them ever since."

Never tell anyone about the naked portfolio you did with Cindy, especially since she and Lisa know each other. This one could go on public display. She's gotten the interplay of the images and the words flow across the pages seamlessly. She's made a work of art out of what were angry, self-flagellating snapshots.

"It's beautiful," I said, awed.

"Yes it is. Printed larger-scale and on better paper, this is an exhibition at Lit if you want it."

"It doesn't exactly reflect well on Lit, you know that, right?"

"Jerry's an artist who owns a bar. He'll be pleased. If we can get a review that tells the story right, the publicity will be gold."

"Shower?"

As we started for the shower, Lisa spun around, grabbed my flaccid cock, and planted a volcanic kiss on my mouth as she leaned against the desk. She stroked me downward, rolling over the head again and again. As I firmed, she shifted her pussy opening to meet it, fondled my balls, shifted, and had me inside.

"Fuck first," she said, breaking the kiss to husk at me, then went back to sucking my face into hers.

She leaned back on her hands, her hips supported by the desk. I started to stroke and she locked her heels around my calves. I slobbed my thumb and felt for her clit, which quickly came out as I pumped.

"Yes! God, so good, harder, squeeze it a little, there, yes, keep fucking, do two things at once, yes, oh god, yesssss," and her muscles grabbed my cock just as I pulled back, exaggerating her tightness and pushing me over the edge, banging her pubic bone against mine.

"Cumming!" I yelled. "I'm cumming, oh god I'm cummmmming!" As I finished, I grabbed her hips and pulled her tight into me, to slow our crashing.

"NO! Finish me! I'm almost there! Yes, yes, oh yesssss!" as I pushed in again and again. Finally she stiffened, then slowed, and sagged backwards.

I summoned every bit of consciousness I could to lift her, stagger backwards to the bed, and collapse with her on top.

"That was fun," I said as she fluttered her eyes open. She kissed me lightly.

"Oh yeah, I like it that way, you do most of the work and I get my clit played with."

Then we did shower, both randy enough for another romp.

"You're off today, right?"

"Yeah, free day, don't have to go in till six tomorrow."

"Wanta —"

"Can't. I'm closing in on three projects. If they all come together, I may have a book. I've gotta stay focused." She kissed me.

"This may be my breakthrough summer."

*

Marilyn was at her desk, chortling as she responded to three angry emails complaining about not being selected for the study.

"Maybe we offered too much money. These guys probably wouldn't be this angry if the pay was 25 bucks.

"We have 102 appointments as of this morning," I reported, "and it isn't even 10 o'clock."

"Still going to start the interviews on Wednesday?"

"Yeah. We have four so far, I guess we'll keep Anna busy."

"After a while it's just another job. She and Don were thinking about hiring a second interviewer. I mean, a hundred and fifty times, reading the same script. You should pay attention, see if you can get the technique of asking the questions. It's an art."

I hadn't thought about that. I knew I had to be around, to be sure the equipment didn't malfunction, but I figured I'd read or sort pictures or something on my own laptop while the interview progressed.

The lab was fine, nothing disturbed. I don't know what I was afraid of, theft or vandalism, but it hadn't happened. I put blank copies of the release form and the receipts for the money in the drawer.

*

Amanda looked up and smiled as I approached her desk.

"Troy told me you came by yesterday. Hey Mindy, is it okay if I take my break?"

"Don't be too long, the hordes are descending."

At our conspiratorial table, it was all business.

"I get it that Margery wants to have the club full by the start of the semester," she said. "But I don't think a few vacancies is much of a problem, unless it skews one way or the other. I've been involved with Ruth for four years now and I can't remember when the first month wasn't ragged. But it always worked out.

"Ruth and I are social workers, you and Margery are managers, Not a bad combination, but different.

"As far as the three we're working with, I'm certain they'll be thrilled to join when they're asked and understand the situation. So if they show up at the first meeting, get their tests done right away, by the second meeting they can be on the board. I don't see that as a problem. Of course it does mean that they won't be getting laid this summer, but that's no different than they've endured so far.

"You and Margery, and Lisa, I keep forgetting about Lisa, you're friends. Go on picnics, invite people you like, go to concerts, whatever. I don't think I'd insert any of my three into a situation like you have. They're too fragile, too worried about getting hurt.

"Conclusion: take it slow. Have fun this summer. The club'll be fine."

*

The campus was almost normal, awash with students, except they were younger. Four times I was stopped by kids I'd swear were eleven or twelve — how do I get to Taylor Hall? Carpenter? The union?

The special program kids really did travel in herds. Their leaders had maps and took the obvious routes to their destinations, not yet knowing the shortcuts. I got some great shots of a leader asking someone for directions while the kids gawked around them.