The Swinging Professor

Could it only be four years since the surgery?

She ran her hands down over her stomach. She twisted from side-to-side and was pleased to see how little body fat she carried. She was a beautiful woman. She could see that and honestly admire herself without conceit. She turned her ass to the mirror and looked over her shoulder. She had heard her ass described many times. Audra, who shared almost the same ass as Clara, had described her ass to her one-day years ago when they were still young and friendly.

"It's not a Kardashian ass. That thing's too much. But take her ass and shave off a few pounds. That's your ass, Clara. It's a wonder, honestly. I've yet to see a man or woman on campus not check it out. Your ass. It's so firm..." and Audra surprised Clara by taking a firm grip of her ass for emphasis. "Feel that? That's an ass, baby." Audra ran her hand over the entire expanse of Clara's ass.

Clara had shuddered in pleasure but tried to pull away. Audra held on.

"It accents your slim waist. What is your size? I'm an eight. So are you, right?"

Clara nodded. Audra still hadn't let go of her ass.

"Look at how smooth and round it is. I bet Chester drools over this, am I right?"

Chester used to, Clara thought. Maybe not so much anymore.

Audra's hands slid up her hips and over her waist. "So slim. So perfect."

Clara knew Audra's body was almost exactly the same as hers. Blonde and brunette. Perfect for a threesome... Wait? Where did that come from? She shuddered in shock and pleasure as Audra's hands slipped up over her breasts. Her old breasts, much smaller then, and looking smaller with her hips and ass. The proportion had always been wrong to her.

"And these beautiful breasts. A perfect handful or mouthful, huh? Your students must all be in love with you."

Audra looked deep into her eyes then and held them. Clara wanted to kiss her then. She thought about it. She thought hard about it. Time slowed. Then something changed in Audra's eyes. She looked disappointed and moved away from her, her hands falling from her body. Clara almost cried out, wanting them back on her. But it was too late. The moment was gone. Lost forever.

In her bathroom, Clara continued to admire her enhanced breasts. She wondered if Audra would like to feel them now. Maybe press her own against hers. Clara often wondered how that would feel. The silky softness of a woman pressed up against her. She could get lost in that.

Clara appraised her pussy. The grey pubic hairs were still a shock to her every time she saw them. Chester liked her pussy a little wild and not trimmed or shaved. She kept herself hair-free everywhere else and had herself waxed routinely. She appreciated his desire for a hairy bush because it made her life easier. When younger and married to Sean, he had insisted she shave herself bare. She knew men loved a shaved pussy, but to her it made her look like a child, and she hated it. And she hated the ingrown hairs, the intense itch as it grew back, and the maintenance. So much maintenance.

Now I have a woman's pussy, she thought and smiled. It longs to eaten and fucked. Being filled with fingers, toys, tongues, spit, hard cocks, and hard spewing salty cum.

Yes, my pussy. My fuckable gorgeous pussy.

She bent over and spread her ass cheeks and looked back at herself. She loved the look of her ass spread open while bent over. Just bending over and exposing herself signalled her body and made her quickly wet with anticipation. It was a submissive position. A vulnerable position. A position that said take me and fuck me. While her mind loved being in control, her body was always on a different track. Bent over, she was the weaker sex. Being bent over meant she was willing take a man inside her. An invitation to her depths. A thing to be taken and used. Filled.

Abused. She shuddered.

She admired the wet slit of her pussy, her outer labia thick, her inner labia protruding and sensitive. And there, above her pussy, was her perfectly smooth asshole. She loved having her asshole played with. Licked and probed by a willing, hungry, partner. She adored anal penetration when the mood was right. During sex, her appetites would rise and rise. Penetration demanded more penetration. She needed things pushed inside her body. She needed fluids pumping into her. Spilling from her. She was a woman and that was what she was born for sexually. To take a penis deep inside her, pleasure them with her body, and make them erupt.

She wondered again what it would be like to have sex with multiple men at once. One for each hole. Filling her. Claiming her. Using her for their pleasure. Penises erupting in splashes of hot, sticky cum. All for her. Because of her. Her body was built for pleasure, and yet, she had never experienced that joy.

It frightened her, those dark desires. They came at her when she was always the least able to cope with them. Often, she would look out at her students in class and imagine them all having their way with her. Taking her. Filling her. Tasting her and wanting more. She could see their eyes on her. Undressing her in the lecture halls. Wanting her. Lusting after her.

Clara shuddered and ran a finger over her asshole to her vagina. She touched herself lightly and moaned at the tingling pleasure. She was so wet already. She slipped a finger in her pussy and withdrew it after she spasmed around her finger, wanting more.

She loved the feeling of penetration. Her first-time having sex had been wonderful with a wonderful and caring boy. After their first time they had explored each other like a new religion and kept at it until he had been forced to move away with his military father. She missed that boy and wondered what man he had become. Some woman was very lucky to have him. Together they had explored everything a man and woman could do together. They both came away all the better for it. She missed the taste of his cum.

Clara stood and sucked on her finger. She loved the taste of her own pussy. On the rare occasion that Chester had sex with her, she would always clean him up afterward. He enjoyed it and thought it was for him. It wasn't. It was for her. She sometimes craved the taste of pussy and her last fling a couple of years ago had satiated her. But no longer. She thought of Audra then. And then Sara, and she gasped in horror.

Sara? When did I ever fantasise about her? She's like my daughter!

Clara frowned and stepped into the shower. It was like walking into a tropical rain forest except with hot, clean water. She lifted her face to the stream and ran her fingers through her hair and plastered it back behind her head. She let the water stream over her and opened her mouth and then spat out the water.

She squeezed the water from her eyes and found her body wash and her washcloth. She spent the next few minutes cleaning her body and washing away the sweat of the day. Her loofa exfoliated her skin, and it glowed.

"Why am I so unhappy?" she muttered into the deluge of rain, as she rinsed off.

I have the perfect life. I want for nothing. Money isn't an issue. I'm respected worldwide. I'm a fully tenured University Professor who was also the Dean for two years. I'm respectable. A good person. Accomplished.

And yet you've cheated on Chester, haven't you, you cheap skank? she admitted to herself.

It was after times like this, when Chester pulled away from her for long periods of time, leaving her sexually frustrated and wanting anything, something, a connection, she knew she needed to feel penetrated and filled. During her last conference in San Francisco, she had slept with another professor from a European university. She had looked at his height, his large hands, and Scandinavian looks, and decided to fuck him. Alcohol had played a factor making it all easier.

When she had finally removed his briefs in her hotel room, she saw what she had suspected when she had brazenly touched him earlier. She had hoped for more, but the man was barely average in length. They fucked, but she was left wanting more. He had only been able to cum twice. His second one had exhausted her bringing him to completion. It had all been so much vanilla ice cream.

The experience had only left her more frustrated and disgusted with herself.

I wonder if Chester is cheating on me? she thought, not for the first time. The signs are there. Lawyers always have something on the side. All the other wives speak of it, like it's no big deal. The money makes it bearable; I suppose.

How would I feel if I knew? I've cheated. A few times. But each time wasn't worth it. The men always come so fast with me. My body is so desirable they cum too fast. Weak men who lose themselves in me. They lose their stamina. I need a real man. Men.

I'm built for sex. My whole body is the male orgasm gift-wrapped in sensual flesh.

Clara pulled the handheld shower nozzle off the wall and leaned back against the shower wall. She spread her legs a little and directed the stream of water to her clit. The pulses of hot water sent pleasure through her. She was well-practiced at this. She allowed herself this moment of unrestrained sexual imagination. She explored her darkest desires as pleasure washed over her.

It was always multiple partners that she imagined. Men endowed with large penises penetrating her while she was held down. Unable to escape. Their sweat and strength pressing her down. Taking her pussy, her mouth, and her asshole. Cum spraying into her, onto her, and filling her. Letting her reach those depths she craved. To be a complete whore. A slut for cock and cum.

A carnal fuck slave for anyone who dares claim me.

And pussy! I need pussy! I want a woman to sit on my face and pleasure herself on my mouth. I want to drink down her nectar. Like Audra. I've always wanted Audra.

Her first orgasm rocked through her, and she moaned loudly. It would be the first of many. Her only escape from the demons that haunted her thoughts.

Chapter Three - Friday Night Lights

FRIDAY SOON ARRIVED, and as the late afternoon wound down, Clara watched Sara pull up to the front of the house in her dated Honda Civic hatchback. Clara could feel her excitement bubbling up through her. Seeing Sara always made her giddy. She was her only friend these days, and somewhere in the past couple of years, the feeling of stepmother and daughter had faded into something more. Intellectually, Clara knew she was in no way related to Sara but having been her surrogate mother while married to Sara's father had engrained maternal instincts into their relationship.

Sara, being so much younger than Clara, allowed Clara to live somewhat vicariously through her. Clara was always curious to Sara's love life and would often make discrete inquiries while not trying to sound eager for details. When Clara had first met Sara through her father Sean, Sara had only been thirteen and without a mother figure in her life. At first, they had not gotten along. Sara had insinuated many falsehoods to try to separate her father from Clara. But Clara, having been her age once, had seen through it all and so had Sean, for once in his self-absorbed life.

They had transitioned then. The question of boys came up and for once Clara found a role she could play in their new family. Clara embraced the challenge, made easier knowing it was not her actual daughter. Clara had been open and frank with Sara and in the process, they had cemented a relationship that had only grown over the years. Since the divorce, Sara had continued to reach out to Clara for advice and to their surprise a friendship had grown. Two people, from two distinct backgrounds, had found a commonality in a mutual dislike of Sean, and for talking about sex, of all things. Now that Audra had distanced herself from Clara, Clara found her friendship with Sara to be critical to her own wellbeing and state of mind.

Clara opened the front door and stepped out onto the wide front porch and stood in a bright yellow summer dress, decorated with images of strawberry plants, berries, and flowers. She had picked up the Polo Ralph Lauren at Saks Fifth Avenue the last time she had ventured to New York. It accented her chest beautifully and strained the shoulder straps. A smile spread across her face as she watched Sara exit her car and close the door. Sara looked up and over and waved.

Clara waved back, feeling her breasts sway, braless, under her dress. I should have worn a bra, she mused, but fuck it. I'm home with nowhere to go. "Sara!" she called out.

"Clara!" replied Sara and chuckled.

"Looking good, sweetheart!"

And Sara looked fine even in her sweats. She wore a sweatshirt cut to reveal her abdomen. The sun glinted blue off her bellybutton piercing adorned with a large sapphire, a gift from Clara. The university logo was on the front. Sara wore sweat shorts from the Outer Banks with "OBX" written on them. Sara grinned and then opened the back door to her car and extracted an overnight bag, bursting at the seams. Next, she pulled out a cardboard wine box from Total Wine, and from the looks of it, she had brought several bottles.

"Do you need help?" asked Clara.

"Nope, I got it!" replied Sara and, with both hands full, hip-checked the car door closed. The sound of metal on metal filled the air. Sara glanced down and gave the door one more hip check to close it properly. "I picked up wine!"

"I see that! You know we have a fully stocked cellar."

"Yeah," huffed Sara as she walked toward Clara, her cheap flip flops slapping the interlocked driveway. As she got closer, Clara could make out the bumps her nipple piercings made through her sweatshirt. "But after we get drunk, I hate drinking the expensive stuff. Such a waste."

"So that's the plan? Get drunk?"

Sara laughed, and Clara could see her tongue stud. "Maybe? We'll see."

Sara reached the front porch and climbed the two steps only to get heavily embraced by Clara. Clara pressed herself against her and for a long moment simply relished in holding Sara and luxuriating in the feel of their breasts mashed together. Clara could feel Sara was also braless, and a thrill went through her.

One day I'll feel breasts against mine...

"Okay! Let go! These are heavy!" complained Sara, chuckling.

Clara let go and reached out and took the overnight bag. It was surprisingly heavy. "What have you got in here?"

"Three dildos, a strap-on, bottles of lube, and two douche kits."

Clara laughed at the obvious joke. "That'll get you through the first night. What about later?"

Sara laughed, but Clara noted the funny expression that crossed her face. The same expression she used to have when her and Sean were hiding something from her. It didn't happen often, but Clara had dealt with far too many students at the university trying to hide things from her to not recognise it.

It's almost as if she wasn't joking...

Clara held her shoulders and gazed into her face. "I missed you, Little Sparrow."

Sara's face softened. "I missed you too, Clara. But here I am!"

"How long this time?"

"I dunno, a week? I work remotely as you know. I can be anywhere."

Sara was a freelance writer for several publications here in the United States and elsewhere. She wrote for travel markets and digital marketing. Last time she was home, she said she was into cryptocurrencies. She made good money and travelled a lot. Clara sometimes envied her jet-setting ways.

"Well, stay as long as you like. This is your home, too. I'm just glad Chester and I are here this time. The last few visits seemed like you planned them while we were away."

Sara gave Clara a kiss on the cheek. "No, nothing like that. Thanks, mom."

Clara faked outrage and playfully slapped her shoulder. Sara only called her mom when it suited her. "If I was your mom, you'd listen to me more!"

"Like that's ever gonna happen. Let me put my stuff away. Swap bags?"

Clara nodded and handed over the overnight bag and took the heavy Total Wine box. "Sofia has prepared lots for us to snack on tonight. Fajitas for supper, she said. Hopefully not as spicey as the last time we had it. I've already sent her home for the weekend, so it's just us. Chester has set up the drive-in theatre in the backyard."

It wasn't really a drive-in theatre. It was a projector attached to the house entertainment system that projected onto a massive outdoor screen by the pool and hot tub.

"Sweet. How is Chester? Will he be joining us?"

Clara couldn't quite keep the discomfort from her face, and she could see Sara noticed.

Sara's face expressed her sorrow. "Never mind. We'll talk later about it."

"Okay."

* * *

An hour later, Sara came downstairs still dressed the same but barefoot, and found Clara working on her laptop out by the pool. The early evening was unseasonably warm, and Clara had remained in her sundress. Sara walked right behind Clara lying in a teak chaise lounge recliner.

"Wine?" asked Sara as she went behind the poolside bar.

"Oh, yes, please. Chester put our favourite in the fridge an hour ago. It should be lovely and chill."

Clara always insisted her red wine be chilled. She adored the Staglin Cabernet, 2016, from California. Chester had bought several cases, along with the better 2009 year. Their wine cellar boasted some of the best wines from the world. But Clara enjoyed the California Cabernet.

Clara focused on her work, trying to wrap up the last emails. Being the head of the English faculty kept her busy. Plus, she had her own classes. And the Dean leaned on her all the time. Everything was work these days.

And I'm getting tired of it, aren't I? The same thing every day. Nothing changes. I miss excitement. Thrills. People. I'm in a rut. I'm a middle-aged frog in a pot while the water slowly boils.

Clara heard the clink of glasses, then the soft pop of a cork being pulled. It was followed by the lovely sound of wine being poured into glasses.

"Oh!" said Sara. "I see Sofia gave us a charcuterie board!"

"Ooh, yes. Bring it over! I'm actually famished, and we better eat, or the wine will do us in."

"Chester put out a few joints here. Want one now?"

Clara closed her laptop and swung her legs off the lounger. Sara was walking over with two large red wine glasses swimming with wine. She had emptied the bottle into the two glasses.

"Oh my God, Sara! Did you have to empty the bottle?"

"Why not? Fewer trips, and less work!"

Sara stopped in front of Clara and didn't hold out her glass. She was staring down at Clara and frozen. Clara furrowed her brow and then Sara jolted and handed her the glass and put hers down. She spun in place and went back to the bar for the charcuterie board.

Clara looked at her laptop, seeing if that was what caught Sara's eye. Then she looked down. Her summer dress had ridden up and her groin and panties were exposed vulgarly. Clara gasped and pulled her hem down over her knees with her left hand, sloshing her wine in the glass. She closed her laptop and put in down beside her. Sara came back, looking as if nothing happened, and set the board down between them on the little table separating the lounge chairs.

Clara scooted and laid back and sipped her wine. She glanced at Sara, but she was intent on the board.

"So many yummies. Sofia sure can pick out the best stuff."

"Yes, there's salame portofino, a hot, uncured sopressata, some Roquefort blue cheese, smoked gouda and cheddar, a pate that Sofia makes that is simply wonderful, prosciutto of course, and some Jamon Iberico."

"Yum! And grapes and strawberries! Crackers! Olives!"