Susan and the Professor Ch. 07

Susan's spontaneous reaction was to beg, "Please, Robert, don't do that! Please just use my cunt!" (Later, as she recalled that request, she was mortified and embarrassed all over again - asking a man to use her cunt!)

"Haven't you been ass fucked before?" he asked as he began to push his cock head against her. Then, before she had time to react, decide what to say, he went on, "Hasn't Jim ever had you here?"

Relieved, she blurted out, "Of course not! He would never think of it!" A true statement, of course, but hardly a full answer to Robert's real question - fortunately!

He, naturally, had no intention of stopping, regardless of her answer, but said, "Just relax. I'll take it slow." True to his word, he eased his cock past her sphincter and began the inexorable entrance into her ass, sliding in, backing out, sliding in further, backing out less, until, finally, he was buried in her anal passage up to his balls. He then began the fucking process, slowly entering and withdrawing, the motion gradually building up until, as he approached his climax, his hips moved like a jackhammer, pounding her without mercy. By that time, however, Susan wanted no mercy - she wanted to be crushed under his assault, wanted to be hammered to orgasm.

As we know, of course, Susan was not - a virgin when it came to anal intercourse. When Don had first penetrated her ass in Maine, it had been a shock, but, by the time that first episode was over, she had discovered the pleasure of that aberrant sexual practice. Since then, Don had ass fucked her many times to their mutual enjoyment, but this sodomizing was different. With Don, and with Jean involved, the act had been part of an enjoyable, voluntary sexual interlude, but, now, she was just being taken and used. She was tied open below and her upper body was forced downward by the pillow under her abdomen, leaving her defenseless and unable to move. It created a complete sense of vulnerability, of being absolutely under Robert's control. However, as had happened so often in the past, being controlled, dominated, had the perverse effect of arousing her. As she lay there, helpless as he began to enter her, that feeling of being used, being a slave to his desires, had the usual magic effect and, involuntarily, her body cooperated in its ravishment - if that's what it was. Tension disappeared, her sphincter relaxed, her anal passages welcomed the penetration and, in general, she became an active participant in her own buggering.

However, "active" did not mean a great deal of movement. As the cock pushed past the sphincter, she was able to take her hands away from her bottom and moved her arms back over her head. As the fucking commenced and became vigorous, she grasped the edge of the table to hold herself in place as Robert moved very forcefully in and out of her. In that position, however, legs tied wide open, hands gripping the table, she was unable to make her usual pelvic undulations as she became more excited. The angle of her crotch was such that his balls smacked against her clit each time he pushed inward, sending waves of pleasure into her cunt, but she couldn't even push back effectively. Instead, all she could do was lie there and be pummeled, but, perversely, again, even the inability to move fed the fires building up inside her. That restraint merely reinforced the feeling of being dominated, controlled, and the submissive part of her personality exulted in that, relishing the additional evidence that she was a mere tool to be used by her master. These were not conscious reactions, and in calmer times, she would have furiously rejected such servile behavior, but in the throes of an incipient orgasm, they seemed appropriate, even natural.

Robert, of course, had no such psychological permutations; he had his cock buried deep in the ass of a lovely woman, fucking her with all his might, which was all that mattered. As he approached climax, he leaned forward, pushing her further down into the pillow, putting all of his weight into the pistoning in and out of her stretched asshole. Finally, the crisis was reached and his cock exploded deep within her ass. At the same time, Susan was in the midst of a long, almost continuous orgasm - no violent undulations, no thrashing around, just a stream of internal convulsions that were among the most satisfying of her life. Her cunt was empty, but, nonetheless, she felt as if waves of pleasure were emanating from it. At the end, she squeezed inward, both with her cunt and ass, causing even greater pleasure for Robert as her sphincter tightened around his cock. When he had ejected the last of his cum into her, he fell forward, satiated, flattening her even more, but even that added to her feeling of being dominated and she had one last convulsion before she, too, was sated.

As his cum jetted into her, Robert stayed rigid against her hips for a few seconds, and then slumped forward over her back. He stayed there for close to a minute, recovering, his deflating cock still buried in her asshole. Finally, he straightened up, slowly withdrawing from the now commodious opening, and looked down. He saw a dark red, quarter-sized aperture, going deep into her body, the still dilated asshole looking like a round, wet funnel, ready to welcome another penetration. The skin around the hole, usually puckered, now was stretched taut, shiny and smooth, glistening with the cum that had followed his cock out. He watched with fascination as the stretched sphincter gradually began to contract, the opening to close, and the normal puckered appearance beginning to reappear. Suddenly, he came to his senses, realized that Susan was still spread-eagled over the table, beginning to struggle to get up.

Bending down and releasing her ankles, he reached forward and, taking her by the shoulders, helped her to rise. Susan stood there unsteadily, her legs, strained from being held wide open for so long, didn't want to come together. In addition, her entire cunt area felt swollen from the whipping and the subsequent ass fucking and, to make it worse, her upper body had been bent down and flattened the entire time, making it hard to straighten up. "Are you all right?" Robert asked solicitously. Susan finally was able to stammer out that she was ok, but her thinking was still fuzzy, not knowing just how to react to the unbelievable experiences of the last hour. The pain, the humiliation, the embarrassment, all had contributed to one of the strongest orgasms of her life, but that, itself, was embarrassing! Oddly enough, there was little of her normal feelings of submissiveness usually followed a spanking or other such punishment. Certainly, a man who had tied her down, whipped her and then sodomized her would have her as an abject slave, at least until the feeling wore off, but not this time.

So, while Susan was flustered and confused, she slowly regained her equilibrium and was able to reply more firmly, "No, I'm all right. Just let me sit down for a moment." Then, "Ouch!" as she sat down hard on her very sore bottom, a painful reminder that something significant had occurred before the ass fucking.

Robert mistook her yelp, asking, "Did my cock hurt you? If you haven't been buggered before, you may be a little sore."

Standing up again, quickly, Susan replied, "N..no, tha...that didn't hurt. It's my bottom."

Relieved, Robert reached around her, cupped her breasts, and asked, hopefully, "Did you enjoy it'? Will you want to do it again?"

Ignoring the first question, Susan blurted out, "Not if you have to use that thing on me again! I won't sit down without hurting for a week. What is that thing?" Then, before Robert could answer, she gasped, "My god, look at the time! Jim'll be here any minute!" Pulling away, she grabbed her panties and slipped them on, fit her breasts into her bra, and hurriedly donned her blouse and skirt. Quickly doing what she could to repair her makeup, ravaged by her crying, she managed, barely, to look presentable as Jim, instead of waiting in the car, rang the doorbell. Amazing herself with her calmness, she opened the door, smiling normally, and a short time later, accompanied her husband to the car. An excellent performance - which had to be continued as she slid, painfully, onto the seat!

All the way home, Susan sat beside her husband, shifting and squirming on the seat, trying to relieve the continual burning sensation coming from her behind. It was, as said before, like a serious sunburn, and she could find no position that was comfortable. In fact, even the soft seams of her panties were irritating, feeling like sandpaper as they chafed her tender skin. She could hardly wait to get home, remove the panties, put on a very soft and loose gown, and wear nothing under her skirt until the "burn" diminished.

There was another sensation that conflicted with, or, perhaps, complemented, the smarting coming from the skin of her ass, the feeling coming from the asshole, itself. As she sat there, it actually felt as if she still had a cock buried in her anal passage - perhaps she had been stretched more than before, perhaps the position and angle had, somehow, strained something or, perhaps it was just psychological. Whatever caused it, she sat beside Jim, very conscious of just having been buggered, and, she admitted to herself, she had enjoyed that part of the experience very much! However, the thought of being naked and having anal intercourse with another man only a few minutes ago, sent a burst of guilt feelings coursing through her, making casual conversation about her afternoon difficult. It was a quiet ride home.

As soon as they arrived, she hurried to the bedroom to change clothes, making sure that Jim did not see her undressed. In the bathroom, she studied her bottom and was startled to see the uniform redness that covered her from her upper thighs to the top of her hips. She bent over in front of the mirror, and was more amazed to see that even the inside of the cheeks were the same bright red, right to the hole, itself. Then, nerving herself, she reached back and pulled herself open, revealing exactly what Robert had beheld - and she was shocked! Never had she dreamed that so much would be revealed in such a shameless way. Her cunt actually gaped open, her asshole leered at her - everything she had was blatantly displayed more obscenely and lewdly than she could have imagined! Still, she was relieved that her hips, while crimson, bore no stripes, no lash marks that would make it undeniable that she had been spanked or, in this case, whipped, thus making it relatively unimportant as far as hiding it from Jim was concerned. With that concern allayed, and forcing herself to put aside thoughts of the afternoon's activities until later, she donned a short, flowing nightgown that didn't cover much, but, also, didn't scrape or abrade her sore bottom.

Hours later, lying in bed, the image of herself, open like that, both haunted and aroused her. Seeing herself, in her mind, bent over that table, exposing the most intimate parts of her anatomy in such a debased way, humiliated and mortified her and, yet, caused a sexual rush to sweep through her. Once again, the inescapable internal war between her conservative (i.e. prudish) nature, and her almost wanton, licentious sexual urges, caused the struggle that continued to bedevil her. As usual, that conflict led to introspective musings, self-flagellation and condemnation (e.g. "Why do I do things like that? Why do I enjoy all those indecent things? Nice women don't do things like that! Etc. Etc. Etc.) Several times in the past, such lugubrious thoughts could have brought her to guilt-fed tears, but, now, alter an orgy of castigating and reproaching herself, asking herself those unanswerable, rhetorical questions, Susan's sensual side took over and her ruminating took a different course.

She recalled the peculiar guilty feeling she had felt in the car which had puzzled her at the time, because she had long-ago eliminated that feeling from regular adulterous screwing. In fact, she freely admitted to herself, she had come to really enjoy being with Jim after Don, or, for that matter, Robert, had just fucked her. Even being ass-lucked by Don and being with Jim afterwards no longer made her feel disconcerted as it had the first few times. However, thinking about it, this ass-fucking had been very different - not only the penetration, itself, but the humiliation and whipping that preceded it, her acquiescence and submission and, very embarrassing still, her revealing and outrageously powerful orgasm. She couldn't hide that from herself!

As she continued her pondering, she found herself considering the whole question of adultery. The dictionary defines adultery as sexual intercourse between a married man and a woman not his wife, or intercourse between a married woman and a man not her husband. It goes on to define sexual intercourse as the penetration of a woman's vagina by a man's penis, his cock in her cunt. A person, in Susan's case, a woman, of course, should feel guilty about committing such a sin, but, in actuality, for many, perhaps most, women, this is the easiest sexual act of all. If overcome by lust, love or whatever, she simply reclines, raises and spreads her legs, and lets the man fuck her. Perhaps she enjoys it, perhaps she doesn't, but, when it is over and his sperm is deposited inside her cunt, she is much the same as she was before. She may berate herself, confess her sin in church or suffer mental trauma, but the act, itself, is natural, normal - even if immoral or, even, illegal. She has committed adultery, but the physical act is easy.

On the other hand, oral sex is not defined as adultery, perhaps not even "having sex," but most woman, at first, anyway, recoil somewhat from taking that "thing" in their mouth and sucking it. When prevailed upon to do so and the act results in its natural conclusion, the sperm, or cum, is not hygienically deposited into her cunt - it's in her mouth! Does she spit it out, swallow it, or what? The first time an ordinary woman performs that "obscene" act, it certainly is a trauma before, and maybe after, it occurs and certainly requires positive commitment on her part - perhaps more than lying there as the passive recipient of a fucking.

Even more traumatizing, of course, is anal intercourse; a.k.a., sodomizing, buggering or just plain ass-fucking. For most women, turning upside down, having their cheeks pulled apart to reveal their most secret, private aperture, is embarrassing beyond words. Then to have the tightly closed opening breached and that unhygienic passageway penetrated by a man's cock, is an act never to be considered, much less committed. Even the thought is depraved and permitting such a perversion would be the ultimate debauchery! So, when an ordinary woman, submits to such a debased act, particularly with someone who is not her husband, she is engaging in behavior far more significant than simple vaginal intercourse. It clearly implies a commitment far beyond a simple "affair." Of course, some women enter these things with a hedonistic attitude that "anything goes," but, for the average, married woman, this "non- adulterous" act is most traumatic of all. However, since, like cock sucking, ass fucking is not adultery in its classic form, there is no reason to feel particularly guilty!

All this ran through Susan's mind in a jumbled way, not particularly coherent or applicable to her own particular situation except indirectly. She had felt a bit strange in the car, but not, she realized, ashamed or contrite - she just felt funny, sitting there, acting ordinary, with Jim after the extraordinary events of the past hour.

All of this thinking and analyzing about guilt and adultery led her to reflect on Jim's role in all this. When she had first been screwed by Don, it was the result of a spanking and her usual post-chastisement, submissive attitude, and she really had no time to consider what she was doing. Subsequent screwing, as well as sucking and ass fucking, took place in Maine, so by the time she saw Jim again, she was well past guilt - which, she admitted, was very brief, anyway. In any case, Jim took the changes in her behavior in stride and actually was the beneficiary of her extra- marital relations. In addition, while he unquestionably loved her, he tended to be somewhat myopic, and, perhaps, somewhat naive, when presented with clear evidence of her various "indiscretions," i.e. being spanked or fucked. This, of course, made life much easier for Susan, and she had gradually quit worrying overly about arousing his suspicions. For example, after checking her bottom and discovering no welts or bruises, Susan had put on a short, full nightgown that barely covered her ass cheeks, confident, based on past experience that Jim would ignore, or accept a simple explanation for, the crimson skin that it would reveal. However, as she reflected of her rather casual display, Susan recalled her concern, even panic, the one time when Jim had noticed.

It began the previous year, not too long after the September trip to Maine. Susan began working for Jean in the preparation of her articles, a relationship that turned out to be ideal. Susan's experience as a graduate student and from teaching English made her well qualified to do research and to help edit the drafts Jean produced. They were, of course, extremely compatible, and really enjoyed each other's company and working together. Actually, everything seemed perfect until a series of problems surfaced all at once. Late September saw an unprecedented heat wave that plagued the city, heat compounded by Jean's air conditioner breaking down. A deadline was approaching, so the two women, both wearing as little as possible, sweltered away while continuing to work. Then, catastrophe struck! In the midst of the heat and humidity, or caused by it, a tremendous thunderstorm roared through, knocking out all power to the area - before Jean was able to save the material she had just written!

That was just too much! A deadline in front of her, the heat, the humidity, the air conditioner, and now, all her work lost because of a power outage - she just blew up! "God damn it, now what am I going to do! Five hours work gone! Stupid computer!"

As she uncharacteristically ranted on, Susan, who was somewhat edgy, herself, from the heat and the storm, tried to calm her, saying "Come on, honey, we can reconstruct the article and write it on the typewriter. In any case, the power should be back soon."

However, Jean was not prepared to be placated, and she continued fuming, brushing aside Susan's comforting words, saying, "Don't be stupid! How can I remember what I wrote, and even if I could, how can we type it - it's an electric typewriter, for god's sake!" She went on in that manner for some time, until the usually placid Susan just had enough and exploded.

"Damn it, you can write the stupid article by hand if you want to. If all you're going to do is stand around and yell at the weather, the storm, the computer, the power company and me, I'm going home! You take care of it yourself!" With that, she jumped to her feet and headed to the door.

Jean was immediately contrite, knowing that she was overreacting and that the abuse she had heaped on Susan was unwarranted, intercepted her, saying, pleadingly, "I'm sorry, dear, I just blew up. I guess we can work something out to get this done."

Now, however, it was Susan's turn to be intransigent. The heat, the storm that frightened her, Jean's tongue-lashing - everything! - had conspired to made her irritable and uncompromising. "I've had enough, I 'm going home!"

As Susan went by, Jean, newly irate, reached out and grabbed her, yelling, "Oh, no you're not! You're staying here and helping!" Susan furiously struggled to pull her arm away, but Jean was just too strong, and the two of them grappled with each other, falling backwards onto the couch. As the wrestling continued, Jean's exasperation with the weather conditions, the deadline, the computer, etc., all coalesced into misplaced anger at Susan. Finally getting the upper hand, she swung the smaller woman over her lap, flipped up her skirt, exposing her bare bottom, screeching, "I'll teach you to run out on me!