The Interview

"That's very sensible, reasoned out and upwardly mobile. And doubtless you need to maintain a professional demeanor and attitude."

"I'm not a slut, John."

"I didn't think you were. Nor have I treated you like a fuck cushion. Take another deep breath, and take your other hand out of your pants. Open your briefcase and look at your CV. Have you attended any listed conferences in the area?"

The sound of papers rustling. She seemed to have faith, though it was waning. My prick had declared open revolt, wanted another master who would treat him right. I had everything crossed, including my balls.

"There's a couple," she said finally. "Yale, NYU, Vassar."

"That's perfect. Now let me follow through this logically. You had a conference at Vassar, made some friends, one particular female friend that you've just seen at the Sheraton having dinner. She lives nearby, and you've decided to stay at her place, catch up on your specialty. You'll notify alumni affairs in the morning, check out of the Sheraton by phone, and thereby save the school some cash. It'll make you seem more mysterious, and even better, more friendly and loyal. Throw a dash of unconventionality into the mix and they'll be drooling over you."

"Jesus Christ, John. You should've been a criminal."

"I did consider law school, but those robes are heavy. Now, about your pants."

"I'm not wearing any. I'm not wearing a thing, John. As a matter of fact, I just laid down on my bed. It's a very hard bed. I like it hard, John. Does anyone call you Johnny?"

"Not if they want to live. Why? You gonna' sing me the Johnny go deeper refrain with two part harmony?"

"I'm thinking about how hard your cock must be, Johnny. Will you jerk off for me? Take it out of your pants and squeeze your balls, slide your hand up and down that woody, get it all slick with spit and precum?"

"I just hit a newspaper delivery kid. Hey, you want a copy of The Times?"

"Don't burst a blood vessel, John. I just want to watch you jerk off, very slowly, and listen to the slippery skin going slap and stroke. I want to see you drool as I undress. I want you to watch me doing what I'm doing now. It's soooooooo good." There was a buzzing near the phone. "Can you hear that, John?"

"Ummmmm."

"Exactly. It's metallic silver, and it's on." The sound moved away. "My breasts need attention, mmmmmm that's so good. I have big nipples. Do you want to suck on them? I like 'em sucked hard, bitten a little but not too much."

"I don't hear that buzzing any more." I nearly clipped a stop sign, probably because I didn't stop.

"That's because I'm sliding it up my cunt, John. Isn't that where your cock wants to be, all the way up my hot, juicy pussy, grinding in me, your balls slapping against my ass while you put my legs over your shoulders and pound away? Oooooohhhhh that's so good. I'm squeezing down on it. Oh John, I'm so wet."

"I'm doing 90 in a school zone, for Christ's sake."

"But what you want to drive is me. Isn't that right, John? How do you feel about the word 'fucking'?"

"I'm hanging up now in the interests of self preservation."

I could hear her purring long after I folded the cell and tossed it on the seat. I squeezed my dick, "Easy there, boy," and slowed down. It would be hell if I broke my dick in a crash.

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What goes around, comes around. I bought a shake at the DQ and asked the girl at the window what time she got off. Some things just aren't meant to be. I did get the cherry on top, though. She probably thought I was harmless.

Back home I took a cold shower, made coffee, and started on the Joyce quizzes. Fuck it, everybody got an A. Leopold Bloom could sleep the long sleep of ease and tranquility tonight. Someone had to.

I turned on the security system, hoped she electrocuted her snatch in the bath with that demon, and went to bed.

Fridays late in the semester are no different than Fridays in January or September. It wasn't panic time yet but there were signs. I had no classes and the latest budget sniping had been headed off yesterday. Annie had coffee and a bagel waiting, what a gal. I felt sluggish and mean, but there was no one to yell at. Yelling is discouraged in such a diplomatic environment anyway. It would show how uncouth I am. Truth is, I was only department chair because no one else wanted it. It was my turn to be administrative and harried for a year. It meant a reduced teaching load, an extra ten grand, and shitloads of bureaucratic skullduggery. Annie was nice, though.

"These just came for you," Annie said, bringing a vase of roses into the office. "Oh pucker up, hon, someone loves you."

"Love, dearest Annie, is overrated and underutilized." She handed me the card.

"Go ahead, read it. It should make a delicious rumor, perhaps you and a visiting professor's wife, or daughter, hmmm?"

I opened the small envelope. "Dear John, had a great time. See you at the gym." It was signed by Blueballs the Pirate. "Private joke," I said, pocketing the card. A dozen red roses was nice, not as nice perhaps as a slick velvet glove. Annie pouted and said she had real work to do. I hoped the folks over at alumni affairs were more prepared than I had been.

The good thing about Fridays is that everyone scoots as soon as possible, or simply skips. I was speaking at a conference in a week and worked on my itinerary, checked the tickets to Denver. When that was done I decided to vanish. If I hung around there would be students and professors darkening the door with bullshit they didn't feel like handling themselves. "Annie, I'm making a command decision."

She got paid by the hour, shrugged and put her headset on, peeved that I had commandeered the note. I got my papers together and locked my door, wandered down to the snack bar in the building and paid three dollars for a dollar cup of coffee. The price of higher education. Sneaking out a side door, I headed for the parking lot, drove over to the gym. I could go hang out in admin, plenty of arguments to be had there, but my nuts couldn't handle the strain.

The sauna was a much safer place to be. If Lisa showed up I'd either club her to death with a tire iron or fuck her into submission, then tie her to a railroad track. "Don't worry, Nell, I'll save you!" I wondered if Dudley Doright ever got blue balls. Mine were actually sore. I think I tried to fuck the mattress in my dreams. Lucky thing I hadn't driven by a sorority on my way home.

The sauna wasn't even on when I got in. I turned on the timer and laid on the bench, had myself a nice nap. I woke with a sweat and the shower felt superb. I was feeling much better now, ready to go home and tackle some flagstones.

I went outside and Lisa was eating lunch on my hood. Her little crinkling wave said it all. Life could be so ridiculous, but it also had potential. She might even get her panties back.

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"Hello, sailor. Got an anchor hanging?"

"You're looking chipper, Lis. Apparently none the worse for wear. Did you pack extra batteries?"

"Don't be such a poor sport. I couldn't go home with you last night. I'm trying to get a job here. We just met, John."

"And you don't pet on the first date."

"Want some yogurt?"

"No, I want to be childish and prideful. It's always good to keep a shovel in the trunk, too."

She laughed, waving the spoon around, her Yoplait wiggling on it like breasts heaving during coitus. My eye couldn't help following it, to her slurping mouth, down that sloping gullet between her tits—no lace on the cleavage today—to her churning tummy, and lower. The pleated skirt was hiked almost obscenely as she slid on the hood to lean against the windshield in the sun. Her jacket was unbuttoned, the sheer white blouse translucent, no bra at all, and her nipples were stretching as she stretched her hands high and back.

"Mmmm this is relaxing." She had turned eating yogurt into erotic art. My prick was screaming, ready to sprint again and not happy at all about the confinement. "My interviews are finished, John, and the party has been changed to tomorrow, just for me. Seems my friend from Vassar and I are getting together tonight."

I got in the car and started it up, ready to drive off with her right there. She slid, turned, and grinned through the glass, then pasted her lips to it and swirled her tongue in the hot breath fog.

I made the international sign for love, a circle with a finger going through it. She slid off the hood like mercury and came around to my window. "I think I know the way."

"If you don't, there's about to be a sex crime spree in our fair town." I screeched off and by the time I got home my prick was calling the ACLU because I dry humped the wheel a couple times just for a temporary fix.

The house was never messy, so there wasn't much to clean up. I went upstairs, made the bed with fresh sheets, opened a window. The lilacs were distracting rather than an inspiration. The phone rang and I let the machine take it. I was in the kitchen making coffee. "I know you can hear me, John," she said through the speaker. "Don't pout, I'll be there in a minute. I'm really very good with directions. Are you playing with yourself? I bet you are, humping that slick hand wishing it's my mouth that you're fucking, your hands holding my hair, sliding it in and out, feeling my spit drip down your balls and spank against my chin. Is that what you want to do, John?"

I picked up and heard her breath coming in chunks. "So you want to play, do you? I can find something that will entertain your sense of timely erotic function. Might get a little rough, but you like it hard, rough, sliding along that thin edge like the inside edge of your cunt lips when they start to get slick, your little clit standing up for attention. You like clit sucked and mashed, pulled on and jerked off like a little dick. You're ready to cum right now. You want to cum, pushing it, squeezing it out, and your little itchy asshole wants a finger way up inside it. You fantasize about a big cock up your ass and you want it there, shoving and shoving deep, pulling out until just the head is inside, then ramming back in like a piston."

There was heavy breath on the line, then car noise outside, tires skidding in the dirt. Heels on the porch, screen door squeaking. Lisa came in, phone to ear, the other hand up under her skirt rubbing and poking.

"What else?" she said, in my ear, in both my ears. She was sweating through her makeup, chest heaving.

"I'm hanging up now," I said, and hung up. "Looks like you need a therapist. Like some iced tea? How about some cookies?"

She swung the door closed and kicked off her heels. No stockings today; she'd only brought one pair, and I had an idea which way the male eyes of alumni affairs had been looking, up her skirt as far as they could go. Her jacket hit the table and she walked towards me, spit on her lips, nostrils flaring, eyes flaming. Her chest touched mine, nipples poking through her blouse. She was right, they were long and hard, the areolae puffed out and gorged with blood and fluid. Pulse pounding in her throat, she rubbed against me, hips pushing me back against the sink. I smelled that clean, strong snatch nectar and pictured rivulets flowing down her thighs.

When our mouths met it was more than kissing, like devouring each other, tongues twirling and pushing, teeth banging and dripping slobber. Hands everywhere at once, ripping clothes, pinching, squeezing hard muscle.

I forced her hands behind her back and whispered: "I'm going to handcuff you." She jerked a little in response. I turned us around, pinning her against the sink, holding her struggling wrists with one hand and reaching for a drawer with the other, my knee up high in her crotch, rubbing and pushing. I found the cuffs and she started fighting, but I had a good grip, managed to avoid her gnashing teeth and clicked them on her wrists. I jerked up on the chain and forced her back down, got behind her and started dragging.

"Oh yes, you're going to get fucked every way there is. I'm going to live out all my deviant fantasies."

"Unhook me, John. I'll do anything you want." Her voice was fevered rather than frightened. I pushed her against the wall, pinned her there with my body and reached around, under the pleated skirt and pawed that swamp of goo. I'd never felt a woman so wet. I shoved a finger in and she howled. "Like my finger up your cunt? How about this?" I found her engorged clit with my thumb, it was huge. I pinched it, slapped it hard, spanking it." She screamed and her shaking legs collapsed.

I hooked her around the waist and half dragged, half carried her up the stairs and into the master bath with its big Jacuzzi and separate shower, throw rugs on the tile floor. I dumped her on the rug, pushed up her skirt and ripped off the already torn panties. She was back now, rolled over and spread her legs like a gymnast. "Fuck me, John. Come on and fuck me." She wasn't shaved but trimmed down close, outer lips swollen and curled outward to show me dripping pink. My shirt went one way, pants another. My seven inch cock finally had freedom, purple head oozing fluid, so anxious to cum that I knew I wouldn't last a minute inside that steaming snatch.

"I'm going to fuck you all right, Lisa. First, however, there's a small matter of payback."

"What do you mean? What's that? Ohgod don't, not an enema! Don't fool around with my ass, I don't like it there. I can't take it, please, John. Be a sport, come on..." Her voice got slightly more panicky as I filled the enema bag with warm soapy water, then hung it on the shower stall rail. Her legs were clamped together now like a vise, and too late it occurred to her to roll to her feet and run. "Make a nice human interest piece in the local paper, wouldn't it?" I said, hooking her waist again and dragging her back. "Handcuffed naked woman pursued through woods by deranged and erect professor."

"John don't, please! I'll do anything else."

With the cuffs I pulled up, forcing her down, onto her knees. I pushed her flat and sat on her back. It was like sitting on a rickety subway car. Her legs snapped together but that didn't matter. I had a jar of jelly and the nozzle in my hand. I scooped jelly and rubbed it into her ass, into the crack, and pulled her cheeks apart to get at her hole. I smeared more jelly and pushed a finger inside. She squeezed hard, but my finger was slick and slid up her ass. She went wild and it was hard staying on, but I kept my finger inside, then replaced it with the nozzle, working it in and out until it was in all the way. I unclipped the hose and her wailing became moaning as the water flowed into her. The fight went out of her but I stayed there on top, watching the bag, spanking her ass, fucking her with the nozzle until there was more than a quart up there. I replaced the nozzle with a butt plug, pushing it up all the way.

I pulled her up to her knees, and all the water inside had her balance screwed up. She nearly fell over. I pulled her up to stand and checked the plug with my hand, still all the way up there. I sat on the toilet seat and greased up my cock with one hand, holding her with the other. I pulled her to me, straddling my lap, and eased her down onto my pole, the head stretching her lips as I slid in without resistance.

Lisa's face contorted, first with pain and then with pleasure. "Oh John, I've never felt so full." The breathy words flowed into my neck as I sat there rocking us backwards and forwards. I reached around to play with the butt plug, steered her mouth to mine with the other. This kiss was soft and slow, tongues rolling around each other.

Her cunt was incredible, squeezing rhythmically on my cock as we rocked. As soon as I started stroking I was going to cum. She was enjoying something she'd never felt before, and I wanted it to last, build to a crescendo and burst like a dam giving way.

I busied myself sucking on her nipples, licking and biting the puffy skin around them, sliding my greased hand between us to maul her clit, keeping her orgasm-weak so her legs couldn't gain purchase and ride me harder. I loved the slow rocking, my cock all the way inside her, rubbing her walls, bumping her cervix. And she kept cumming, crying when I bit her nipples and jerked off her clit.

Her weight was all on me and I started to tire after a while, so I slowly lifted us up, my cock still wedged inside, flipped up the seat and turned us around so she was fully on the toilet. Crouched like that I told her to push, squeeze it out. The veins in her temple and forehead were throbbing with effort. She had no words, only the guttural strains of effort as I started to stroke, in and out, in and out of her sopping cunt. Suddenly there was a huge splash in the toilet as the butt plug was pushed out and she emptied herself. Her body was jerking with effort and orgasm, squeezing down incredibly tight on my cock as I spurted load after heaving load of cum into her.

I pulled us both down onto the throw rug and reached for my pants, got the key to her cuffs. She moaned into my ear as she curled up around me. "John, you are a wicked, wicked man."

"Just wait for dessert."