The Phone Call Ch. 05

"Molly, don't," I said, feeling helpless to move as I watched her fumble with my belt and trousers, opening them in order to reveal my swelling cock.

She began to stroke me in her soft hand, wrapping her fingers around me as she leaned in so close that I could feel her breath on my shaft.

"You don't want this same mouth that was on your wife not too long ago to suck your cock?" And she planted a soft kiss on my swollen head as her hand continued stroking me.

Letting out a small groan I reached out and placed my hand on the back of her head, clutching a mess of her curls and encouraging her to take my length in her mouth, which she did eagerly, with a giggle that I could feel vibrate in my shaft.

As her head bobbed up and down in my lap, and I felt the warm wetness of her mouth and tongue press tight along my swollen length, my head lolled back and I gripped the arms of my reading chair. I felt her small hand cup and massage my balls as she forced herself down to take all of me, and I yelled out "Fuck!" just a little too loud as I did, causing me to glance nervously to my office door. It was securely closed, thankfully.

"Molly!" I panted as I looked down only to see her blue eyes staring up at me with her mouth stretched around my cock. Gripping her curls tighter I tried to pull her off of me, but she held herself down. "I can't do this, Molly!" I shouted in a harsh whisper, "You need to stop!"

She kept me in her mouth and simply shook her head, grunting her dissent, fighting my effort to pull her mouth off of me.

I leaned my head back again and let go of her hair, which caused her to throw her mouth down hard on me in reaction, and I felt the head of my cock slip into her tight little throat. I bucked my hips up and pushed into her more as she struggled to hold herself down.

"Oh god..." I moaned into the room, and I heard, or rather felt, Molly encourage me with a subtle "mhmm" as I stayed lodged in her squeezing throat.

This sent me over the edge, and I began pumping thick jets of cum directly down her throat. I grabbed her head with both hands and held her down as she struggled to swallow it all as I emptied myself into her.

I let out a big sigh and let go of her as I finished and she popped off me with a gasp and a giggle, wiping away the combination of drool and semen that spilled down her chin. I looked down at her still innocent face and she smiled up at me.

"You didn't really go down on Monica, did you?" I asked, catching my breath as I held her pixie like gaze.

She gave a bit of a pout. "Don't believe me? Well why don't you just ask her, then?"

Ignoring the suggestion I glanced nervously at the closed door. "You need to leave while she's still in bed."

Leaning back on her hands with her legs folded under her, she smiled wickedly, "Is that all I am, professor? A mouth for you to use when your wife is too tired to take care of you?"

"Molly," it was my turn to be exasperated.

"Professor," she mocked. Still, she did get to her feet and began to dress. Even having just cum it was deflating to watch the object of my desire dress to leave. The thought flashed that maybe if Monica had been drugged, the ensuing crash would enable Molly to stay the night undetected. I quickly shook the thought from head.

I left the office first and found that the house was still dark. Peeking in the far bedroom, I saw Monica still laying in bed, her back still turned from the door, chest slowly rising and falling.

For her part, Molly seemed unconcerned with being caught. Maybe that added credence to her claim to have seduced Monica, or maybe she was just intent on breaking me. Even so, she padded down the stairs as if she hadn't a care in the world.

Following her down, we reached the front door.

"I called you a car," I said as I held the door open for her. Standing so close to me, I towered over her smaller frame as she looked up at me.

"Such a gentleman," she smiled. I couldn't tell if it was sarcastic or sincere, but even so she raised herself up onto her toes and threw her arms around my neck as she kissed me, and I couldn't help but pull her into me and kiss her back.

"Wouldn't it be so much nicer if I could stay?" she asked dreamily between kisses.

"Yes," I admitted, "but you can't."

"Soon," she replied, and it wasn't worth the energy to spar with her over what that meant.

As I closed the door and walked back up to the office, Monica emerged in her silk nightgown from her room.

"Did you just leave?" she asked groggily, "I thought I heard the door."

"I left something in the car." I was becoming too good at lying.

"Okay" she sighed. "You should come lay with me. It would be nice."

I smiled softly, trying to hide both my own shame and trying to see if she had any. "In a bit, Mon, I just have a few things to do first."

Nodding she disappeared back into our bedroom as I turned and disappeared into my office.

My phone dinged with a text from Molly telling me she had returned home safely.

"Your scent is still in my office," I replied.

"I've marked you," came the reply. "You're mine."

I hated to admit it, but it seemed increasingly true.

The next morning I awoke after having spent the night on the couch in the living room. I feel asleep to some terrible old black and white western that I put on in an effort to stop the spiralling thoughts I was having about Molly, Monica, and my own obligations and betrayals.

Stumbling, bleary eyed, into the kitchen I saw Monica already dressed for work, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She always looked sharp when she left the house, not just sexy and professional, but confident. Today, however, there seemed a kind of uncertainty in her step and appearance.

I walked up behind her and gently kissed her cheek since I knew how much she hated it when I mussed her makeup after she was ready.

Initially she jumped at my touch, but soon purred softly and pressed her ass back into me as she leaned on the counter.

"I wish I had time," she said regretfully as I gently ground against the back of her pencil skirt, "But even a quick fuck would make me late."

Thinking back to the previous night, I was now left contemplating whether her second rebuff meant anything more than she said. I thought I'd try to be a little playful in my response since our last meaningful interaction had been her confession about her past and present desires.

"That's okay," I said as lightly as I could, "I'm sure some cute, young coed will see to my needs."

Twisting toward me she furrowed her brow and began to say something, but seeing my expression stopped herself.

"Don't tease me like that," she said softly turning back to her coffee, "We both know you could do that if you wanted to."

Immediately I felt awful. "It was just a joke," I apologized. Still though, I wasn't sure that it was.

"We never talked about your lunch yesterday." I offered as a way of changing the subject, but when Monica turned around there was a mix of hurt and fear in her eyes that told me that I had done anything but.

"I didn't mean..." my words trailed off, not sure what I meant or didn't.

"I need to go," she said curtly. Then she came and leaned over where I sat and kissed my cheek. "You're right though, we should talk... about Molly." The name hung in the air between us for a moment. "But I can't now, I just..." she trailed off as she left for her day.

Getting to work was another matter. My mind was anywhere but where it needed to be, and when I kept losing my place during my lecture, a jovial stoner in the front row laughed, "Geez, professor, you wake up on the bong side of the bed this morning?"

There was nothing for me to do but chuckle along with the students. "You know what?" I said giving a shrug after the class settled down, "It's too nice to stay in class today. Go home, I'll try again next time."

Technically the university would frown on such an unwarranted dismissal, but none of the students cared which meant no one would ever hear about it. The stress of trying to concentrate on what I was doing left me almost immediately as I packed my briefcase.

As I walked to my office, my phone buzzed a notification. It was a picture text, from Molly of course. Side by side were pics of two naked female bodies from the neck down. One stood in front of a mirror, and the other lay sprawled across the bed. They were labelled A and B.

Another text followed, "Would you rather fuck A or B?"

I stopped my walk in the middle of the quad and looked more closely at the picture. I recognized A as Molly's mirror selfie from before I knew who she was. Of course my heart pounded as I looked at B. As I suspected, it was clearly Monica in our bed. Presumably from yesterday.

As much as I wanted to rant at Molly for spreading even faceless pics of my wife over text, anything I said via text would only confirm who it was. So instead I simply answered. "Not funny."

My phone buzzed again, "Funny? I'm serious. Choose."

Not really sure what she was playing at I was getting a bit angry, so I chose to just ignore the girl's demand.

After about five minute when I was back in my office behind a closed door, my phone went off again. "Do you need to see the whole pic? The one with B's face? I bet lots of people would love to see it."

I guess both Monica and I had that coming after the stupid games we'd both been playing apparently. I began to type that my answer then was B, but before I could hit send another text came in.

"Answer honestly," Molly texted, "Or else I'll have to ask others if your answer is believable."

She was really forcing my hand.

Erasing my answer I typed, "Fine. A."

The next text carried a very different tone. "Aww, really?"

I imagined Molly's blue eyes looking up at me in that mock innocence as a smile spread across her lips on a mouth I had used for pleasure several times now.

"Yes." I typed honestly.

But after that there was nothing. No further texts. I felt terrible at having said to a girl more than 20 years younger than me that I would rather fuck her than my beautiful wife, but it was true. It wasn't just the girlish figure on the 19 year old, or her innocent teasing looks, or that she kept herself pristinely hairless, or that, having given her virginity to me, it was like I had moulded her to my own perfect specifications.

No, all of that was lovely, but the real reason was that she was maniacal in her desire to seduce me. Dangerously, even psychotically, maniacal. I had never been wanted like that and it was intoxicating.

As it became clear that no further texts would come, I settled into my office routine, tried to prep for a forthcoming lecture, edited a journal article I had been working on, kept switching tasks trying to take my mind off of things.

It was intoxicating to be wanted by Molly, but her growing need to claim me meant I needed to break that spell and protect Monica from any further harm. It still wasn't clear what Molly's ultimate game was. She had seduced Monica, or so it seemed, but why? How would that help her with me?

Toward the end of the day I received another text, this time from Monica.

"Please come home. It's Molly. She's here and she scares me."

Every fear I had been contemplating seemed to come to fruition as I typed a quick, "On my way," and rushed out of the office, even leaving my briefcase and books behind.

Running into the house I slammed the door closed behind me. "Monica!" I called out, trying not to sound panicked, but I wasn't really sure what I'd find after a text like that.

"Upstairs," a voice called out, but it wasn't Monica's, it was Molly's.

Climbing the stairs two at a time, my heart pounded in my chest as I pushed open the bedroom door. What I saw stopped me cold.

On the opposite side of the room, sitting naked at her dressing table and facing the door was Monica. Her hands appeared to be bound behind her back, her legs secured in a spread position to the small bench chair. A piece of duct tape over her mouth.

"Monica," I called out, "What the...?" But as I moved toward her a voice stopped me.

Kneeling on the bed and holding her phone in her hand, Molly wore a simple black negligee that I recognized as my wife's. Monica being taller, it made Molly look like a girl playing dress up, but even so, the silky dark material against her alabaster skin made my heart skip.

"You like, professor?" She asked with a coy smile.

"What the hell is going on here?" I moved toward Monica again with the intent of freeing her, but as I did a buzzing filled my ears, and I watched Monica's hips shift forward as her eyes lost focus for a moment. Looking between her spread thighs in the pale light, I could see the base of the vibe buried inside her as the source of the sound.

Turning back to Molly, all I could offer was a quizzical, almost horrified look.

Molly held up her phone and revealed the control app for the vibe. Then she demonstrated it, forcing the vibe up and making Monica moan through the tape over her mouth.

My eyes darted back and forth between the two women, unsure whether I was intruding on consensual play or whether my wife was hoping for me to play hero and save her from the depraved student's machinations.

Monica moaned again and ground down against the chair, but the buzzing abruptly stopped and Monica let out a whimper.

"I don't understand." I said defeated, sitting on the edge of the bed. Molly hiked up the overly long negligee and moved behind me, draping her arms over my shoulders and kissing my neck.

"You see," Molly said, nibbling my ear, "Ever since she fucked my father when she was a student, Monica here has a thing for professor student relations. It's her kink."

It took a moment for all of the information in that sentence to register, and when it did I said somewhat stupidly, "Your father?"

Molly nodded. "I was only a child when it happened. When this bitch ruined my parents' marriage." She locked eyes with Monica as her tongue flicked my ear. "So I figured turn about was fair play."

I stared at Monica too, bound as she was, but my wife turned her eyes away from me, ashamed, embarrassed while Molly made herself plain for the first time.

"I saw what she did to my father and what she did to my mother, and that was an early education in sex as a weapon. So I sought the slut out, and wondered if I could exact a bit of revenge."

"Which is why you came after me?" I said with a sigh. "Monica, I'm so sorry. You don't deserve this." Tears welled in Monica's eyes but at that moment the vibe started humming again and Monica's eyes shot wide as she began grinding and whimpering again.

"Oh no you don't, slut," Molly barked, "You don't get to be sympathetic."

I turned to look at the girl behind me and put my hand over hers. "Molly," I said softly, "this isn't right."

The blonde student ignored me as she continued, "But imagine my surprise when I found this one flirting with me at the party, telling me at lunch how much her husband likes me." Her face broke into a wicked grin and she placed a small kiss on my lips.

"Frankly I was already going to slip her something, but I hadn't planned on fucking her until she started sharing with me all her fantasies. Would you like to know what she talked about as I went down on her?"

I felt Molly's hand slide down my chest and cup me through my trousers and begin massaging me. I stayed silent. I figured Molly would tell me no matter what I said, and frankly, I was very curious and more than a bit aroused. Monica, for her part wasn't acting like a damsel in distress so much as she was acting like a pet on display.

"All she talked about was how much she wanted to watch you fuck me, I mean," the blonde rolled her blue eyes as she deftly undid the zipper on my trousers and freed my cock. "can you believe it? I go out of my way to hurt her by fucking her man, and she gets off on it. I mean look at her!"

The buzzing stopped again but Monica kept right on fucking the dildo, her heavily lidded eyes locked on the younger woman's hand as it stroked my cock.

"See," she said, "your slut wife is dripping wet as I tell you this story."

Despite myself my cock swelled at the display in front of me. I didn't know what to do, but I did know that I was already losing myself to my lust.

"Mon," I said softly, "Is this true? Is this what you want?"

Monica didn't answer, but dropped her eyes down, too embarrassed to respond. At that moment I both pitied Monica and held her in contempt. Who was this woman I had married? How had she let herself come to this?

My wife was just a few feet away and my attention was on her, but Molly had other ideas, and straddling me in front of my wife, took my face in my hands and forced me to look at her.

"No John, what matters is," she kissed me lightly and I could taste the cherry lip gloss, "what do you want?"

"I..." unable to finish for lack of knowing what to say, my hands seemed to have the answer my mind lacked, for they went to the young student's hips and pulled her down against me. Molly responded by grinding against my exposed and engorged cock as she kissed me before reaching down between us and taking hold of me, guiding me to her entrance.

The blonde girl lowered herself onto me, and I felt her body give way as it had so easily before, taking me into her depths for the perfectly tight, wet fit.

Molly gave an exaggerated moan as she came to rest on my lap, her lithe arms resting on my shoulders, my cock buried deep inside her.

Monica gave a pitiful whimper from her bound position as she watched my cock disappear into the girl. At the sound my eyes moved to hers and in them I saw both betrayal and lust before Molly again redirected my eyes back to hers.

"Forget about her," Molly said as she slowly rode me, "she doesn't matter any more." And she pressed her lips to mine as my hands gripped her slender hips and pulled her down with increased demand.

Molly was claiming me for her own right in front of my wife, and I was worse than powerless to stop it, I actually wanted it. I was tired of fighting my desires. Tired of feeling guilty. I don't know how Molly had seduced Monica into getting her bound to the chair riding a vibrator, but however she did it, it just made me want the younger woman more.

"Uh huh," Molly moaned as she rode me, "That's it, professor, fuck your student."

Monica's whimpering was becoming manic as she was forced to watch as Molly impaled herself on me. When I glanced over to my bound wife, her look was imploring, but before I could say anything, Molly glanced back at her.

"Oh," she mocked, "I almost completely forgot about you. Here you go." And with that she picked up her phone and again turned up the vibe buried in Monica's pussy.

Turning back to me, Molly added, "There, that'll keep her occupied while you take what you really want."

I simply nodded, giving a quick glance to Monica as she again found herself grinding against the humming vibe. The look on her face as our eyes met was pathetic. I couldn't tell if she was fighting her building orgasm and losing, or frustrated not to be cumming already.

In either case, it didn't matter any more. I took hold of Molly hips and tossed her off of me, letting her land on her hands and knees on the bed. I kneeled behind her, giving my wife a side long view as I prepared to mount the pretty young woman in front her.

"Yesssss," Molly hissed as I roughly pulled her hips up to me, positioning her as I needed before slamming hard into her from behind.

"Fuck me," she cried out almost in surprise as I began to piston in and out of her, holding her hips in place as now I claimed my student while my wife watched.

Looking over to my wife as I pounded Molly's tight, young pussy. "Is this what you wanted to see, Mon?" I taunted her. "Is this how her father fucked you?"