The Dorm Mother

"It all ended when Jerry died of a heart attack a few years ago. After that, the college let me know that they were replacing me with a new couple. It was okay with me. It was time to move on. I was entering menopause at the time, and the sex simply wasn't as important for me. I still enjoyed it, but I wasn't looking as hard for it. And I really wanted to move back to the town where I grew up.

"Well, that's my story. I hope you don't end up judging me, but if you do, so what? It was my life, I lived it as I wanted to, and I don't regret a thing. Let me ask you: if you had a chance to have a loving husband, two beautiful kids, and a hundred adoring lovers a year, would you turn it down? Really? Be honest!"

**********

After Alice finished her story, we were silent; it certainly didn't make sense to try to top it! So the conversation drifted off to other subjects. But I was curious to find out if her extraordinary story was true. As an alumna of the local state college, I had access to their library, so I spent an afternoon looking through back issues of their collection of psychological journals. And sure enough, I found a twelve-year-old issue that described "Jessamyn's" story, just as she told it. I won't bore you with the psychological jargon, but the gist of it was that "Jessamyn" was described as a woman with an extraordinarily high libido and a craving for sexual novelty who had made a successful adaptation to circumstances, an adaptation which would not have been possible had she not had access to a great number of accommodating lovers. The professor speculated that there might be many more women with this syndrome, but that the lack of opportunity and the social stigma associated with sexually aggressive women, combined with limited access to birth control, doomed these women to a life of lack of sexual fulfillment. He stopped somewhat short of recommending that society take steps to identify and accommodate this sort of woman, but the implication was there. And, you know, it made a lot of sense.

Reading that article did something else for me: it flipped a switch somewhere. That night, I found myself masturbating, as I often do. Usually I don't climax when I do it; it's just a very pleasant sensation, and it's given me comfort in the years since my husband died. I was at my usual high degree of arousal, but couldn't get it higher. And then an image flashed in my mind of a young, virgin cock weeping precum, and suddenly I was over the edge. The intensity of the climax surprised me. And I wanted it, again and again. I realized that all my previous lovers had been experienced, take-charge guys, and I had at best been an equal, never an initiator. And I needed to find out what that was like.

I took to frequenting the area coffeehouses, looking at the young men and fantasizing taking one of them home and fucking them. But fantasies were all they were; I was terrified of trusting a total stranger, fearing I'd end up like that poor girl who went looking for "Mr. Goodbar." And then I remembered Nathan.

Nathan was a boy who grew up in the house next to ours. He used to mow our lawn and occasionally we'd chat, but he was painfully shy. His family moved away after his sophomore year in high school, and his mother and I kept in touch, so I learned that he'd returned to our town for college and was living in the dorms. After getting his email address, I made an appointment to meet him at the coffee shop.

He hadn't changed much. His hands were a man's hands now, not a boy's, but his shyness was still there, and when I asked him if there was "anybody special" in his life, he stammered that there wasn't, and admitted that he really didn't have much experience with girls. At one point, I casually unbuttoned my top blouse button to show a little more cleavage, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from that glimpse of the valley of my tits. So I knew he was hetero, he was horny, and he was unconnected. Perfect.

"Why don't we do dinner next Friday?" I suggested. "You can pick me up at my place." He agreed, and when he showed up at eight o'clock, I was ready for him. I'd bought a pack of three condoms at the supermarket, and was wearing my skimpiest "date bait" underwear underneath my sheath dress. I ushered him inside and then gave him a hug. And a kiss. And I wouldn't let him go.

At first, he tensed. "I thought we were going out to dinner!"

"No, dear," I purred. "I said we're doing dinner. Here. But I want to give you a little appetizer first!" And with that, I broke the hug, stepped back, unzipped the dress, and slipped out of it. My undies didn't hide much; he got a view of my full, matronly breasts with dark, hard nipples quite visible through the lace of the bra. Below that was a stomach that, for all my years, was still flat and unmarked. I saw his eyes travel downward to my crotch, with its camel-toe prominent in the front panel of the panties. The expression on his face was priceless.

"Now it's your turn," I said. He blinked, smiled, and started to take his clothes off. He fumbled at his belt buckle, so I took over, unbuckling the belt and lowering his zipper as his shaking hands unbuttoned his shirt. Soon he was naked, his penis swelling and rising. I was surprised to see how well hung he was. His erection was about the size of my late husband's...maybe six or seven inches, so I knew I'd have no trouble accommodating it. I unhooked my bra and let it fall, giving my tits a shake as I grinned at him. Then I kicked out of my shoes and pushed my panties down, letting my tits swing just a little bit as I bent down. The expression on his face told me that he was my slave.

"Let's take a shower first, and get nice and clean," I suggested. I took his hand and led him into the bathroom, and soon we were under the showerhead, our soapy bodies sliding against each other. "This kid won't last very long," I thought. So I masturbated him to an orgasm right there in the shower, an orgasm that brought spurt after spurt of semen from his cock, at first leaping up as far as his chin and finally just welling out of his cock onto my hand. His body trembled from the shock of his orgasm, and I confess that my own hand was shaking -- not from lust but from a sense of power sweeping over me. Then the moment passed, and we hugged.

It took another fifteen minutes of drying and then cuddling in the bed before he started calling me Katie instead of "Mrs. Riley." Then his cock started hardening again and he was ready to enter me. I slipped a condom onto his erection, lay back, and guided its cap into the opening of my vagina. "Is this really your first fuck with a woman?" I asked.

"Uh, yeah. But I think I know what to do."

"Well then, just slide in and have fun."

And he did. Once he got over the new sensation of a woman's vagina, his energy was astonishing. In his urgency, he didn't pay much attention to my needs, but I didn't care. That time would come. I was certainly aroused and lubricating like crazy, but nowhere close to an orgasm, and I thought briefly about faking one. But I heard Alice's voice in the back of my mind telling me to keep the experience authentic, and that's what I did. At last, with a final lunge, he ejaculated into me and went limp. I let him recover and then rolled him off my body. I stripped the rubber off his softening penis and tossed it into the bedside trash can.

"Are you hungry now?" I asked. "Let's order a pizza. I've got some wine here somewhere." He murmured assent, and an hour later, we had made short work of a large pizza and a bottle of Cabernet and were back in bed, ready for more.

He wanted to enter me again right away, but I had other plans. I spread my legs and pulled my labia apart, exposing my clit. "Now let me give you a little tour. This bump here is my clitoris. It's sort of like your penis, but needs different things. Now put your middle finger into my pussy. No, palm up. Feel around in there. Feel that little bump? Now listen carefully..." And so the lesson began. He hung on every word.

After a while, I had him lie on his back and showed him how to unroll the condom onto his dick. Then I slipped his erection into me and moved up and down on it. I bent over him, supporting my weight with my arms as he played with my boobs. This time, I had no trouble reaching a climax, and came even before he did. My orgasm triggered his, which triggered another one of mine, which I heightened by leaning back so that he penetrated me fully and twisting my nipples. His knob pressed hard against my cervix, but the twinge of pain was lost in the sensation of my ecstasy.

I could have stayed in that position for moments on end, but I felt his penis softening and quickly had him withdraw, so that the condom wouldn't leak.

"Oh, Katie," he moaned. "I love you. I want you forever."

"No, you don't," I whispered into his ear as I pulled the condom off his dick. "That's just lust talking. I think you know we have no future together. So let's just enjoy the moment, shall we?"

"But I still want to do something for you. I'd give you anything!"

I bit my lip. Well, Why not? I couldn't let this opportunity slip away.

"You know, there is something, Nathan. Do you have any friends like you? Lonely, shy guys who've never been laid? Guys you could send my way?"

"Shit, there's a whole dorm full of them! Let's see. Hector? No, not him. He's an asshole. Brendan? Yeah. Maybe. He's a nice guy, too. He's tutoring me in chem, and I really owe him a favor."

"Give me two hours with him, and I guarantee he'll be your tutor for the whole semester!"

He grinned, and I let him watch me masturbate as he recharged. He was entranced, and then I suggested that he get some experience eating pussy, which was something my late husband never cared for. But Nathan leapt at the chance, having no scruples against it, and followed my every whim. He licked my clit when I told him to, and stopped when I told him to stop. I got another small but sharp orgasm out of that, and rewarded him by letting him tit-fuck me without a condom, skin to skin. His last spend was meager, only a few drops, and when I told him to lick it up, he hesitated only momentarily, and dutifully began lapping it off my neck. I felt that wonderful sensation coursing through me again, not of lust but of power, of knowing that he was my slave. It was even better than lust! I was hooked.

Well, after Nathan, it was Brendan, and after Brendan it was Joel, and after Joel it was...well, you get the idea. I'm up to twelve now, and I feel I'm just beginning!

As for Alice, we saw her a few more times at the book club meetings, but in the fall she stopped coming. We later heard that she'd accepted a job with a Midwestern college as -- you guessed it -- a dorm mother. I suppose she decided that she couldn't forsake that lifestyle after all. When I heard the news, I thought, "That's a college with a lot of very lucky freshmen!" She'd left me her email address, and I wrote her to tell her of my conquests. Her answer as an invitation to visit her at her college some weekend. "I can fix you up with a date, I'm sure!" she wrote. "I'll put you up in room 244, if you know what I mean."

I'm going up there tomorrow. I'd ask you to wish me luck, but I don't think I'm going to need it! And condoms are cheaper by the dozen...