The Desdemona WagerbyBaxter72©
I'm retired now, but I spent most of my life working as a professor of English at a small New England college. There were six people in the English department, but the one I was closest to—literally—was Paul Baker, whose office was next to mind and with whom I shared an adjoining door.
I had been at the college considerably longer than Baker—about 25 years—and was considerably older than him in age, 55, versus 35. But we had a lot in common and often used to talk. It did not take long for us both to discover that we had a mutual interest which was made possible by being a professor in a college. And that mutual interest was: enjoying the pleasures of young pussy.
We both were careful not to get into the dangerous position of a grades-for-sex exchange, which will inevitably get you into trouble. But we both were looking for pretty and willing young maidens. Since I was no longer married, and Paul was young and good-looking—although with a wife and two kids—I guess we made a somewhat attractive alternative to horny and rude college boys. Also, I suspected I attracted the girls who were looking for a father figure. I provided them with compassion, understanding...and hot sex.
And we were careful not to get too greedy. We took on no more than one girl at a time, so that jealousy would not rear its ugly head. Consequently, we usually went after seniors, who would be graduating at the end of the year. But still, perhaps because of my age, I often could not resist an innocent young freshman. The only problem was: I was risking being stuck with her for another three years. So usually, I would try to convince her that she was "too good for us" and that she should try to transfer after the first year.
As an English professor, I also was responsible for producing and directing four plays a year, one of them Shakespeare. A tall and well-built young black man from Alabama had enrolled in the school. While he looked like a football quarterback, he also was an excellent scholar, so I considered staging "Othello" that year and asking him to be in it.
He said he would love to. The only matter now was assembling the rest of the cast, including the critical role of Desdemona. One of the young ladies in my class, Ashley Wilkins, was a combination English and Drama major, so I was not surprised when she told me after class one day that she wanted to try out for the part of Desdemona.
Even though she came from a small town in Kansas and was very innocent, she also looked just right for the role: blond, blue-eyed, about five-eight, and a figure that other girls would die for. I began to wonder how I might enjoy that figure—and then I came up with a plan.
In addition to teaching, Baker and I often used to amuse ourselves with silly bets as to who could do what, so this seemed to be the perfect time to suggest such a bet.
I asked him to come over to my office.
"You have Ashley Wilkins in one of your classes, right?"
"Yes, beautiful young girl."
"She seems so innocent...."
"Yeah, I think she's from Virginville, Kansas. "
"I would love to see her naked."
"I'll tell you what. I'll bet you I could bring her into my office and within a half hour have her stark naked."
"You're on. But who's going to verify this?"
"You of course."
"Then you're really on."
"And I'll bet you another fifty that within a half hour after that, I have her performing a sex act with me. It may not be intercourse, but it will be a sex act."
"You're kidding me."
"Put up or shut up."
"Okay. Be in your office next Tuesday afternoon. I'll call you when I want you as a witness."
"It's a deal."
I motioned Ashley over to me at the end of a class. "The audition for Othello is next Wednesday," I said, "But I would like to talk to you about the play before you make up your mind to audition for it. Can you stop in at my office around three on Tuesday?"
"Okay," she replied.
And she was right on time. "Sit down, Ashley," I said, and she did so. "Before you audition for this, I need to let you know that this play was recently revived in London and in Paris. In Shakespeare's time, female parts were of course played by boys, but that is naturally no longer true. As a result, in the revived version, they had an important nude scene in the last act—and that's the version I'm going to do."
She looked at me questioningly.
"So before you audition, you need to know that if you get the part, you will be required to do a nude scene in the fifth act. Do you think you could handle that?"
"Yes," she replied quietly.
"Have you ever done anything like that before?"
"Then I think we'd better determine if you CAN do it. Let's set the stage here in my office. In this scene, Othello is awake and troubled. His wife, Desmona, who has been sleeping, comes to him in her dressing gown. She can see he is troubled, but she does not know why. She says: 'What vex thee, my lord?' And he replies 'It is the cause, my soul, it is the cause.' Then, knowing how her sexual attraction is a powerful force with him and wishing to make him feel better, she loosens her gown and lets it fall. She is naked, with her back to the audience. And the scene goes on from there to the point where he kills her. I keep all of the costumes in my office for security reasons. If you still think you can handle this, why don't you take the white dressing gown from the rack back there, go into the bathroom, taken all of your clothes off, and put the dressing gown on."
She nodded. Then she got up, walked over to the rack, got the white cotton dressing gown, and went into the bathroom. My fifty was as good as won. I called Paul on the intercom.
"Can you come over for a little while? And bring fifty dollars in cash or check with you."
Paul entered through our connecting door. "So where is this beautiful naked person?" he asked, looking around.
I put my finger to my lips and motioned for him to sit on the far side of the room across from my desk. Next to the desk was a raised dais ten inches high and six feet square. It fulfilled the role of a "stage" for private auditions.
Paul raised his hands as if to ask: "What's going on?" As he did so, Ashley emerged from the bathroom. She was wearing the white cotton gown, which buttoned down the front, and she was barefoot.
"Ashley here is going to audition for the nude scene in the new version of Othello. Ashley, in order to give you the feeling of an audience being there, I've asked Mr. Baker to sit in and pretend he's an audience of two hundred and fifty. That's probably how many will be in the theatre."
I took my chair, placed it on the rear of the dais and sat in it. "We'll pretend that I'm Othello. When you come into the room from upstairs, it's apparent that he is very unhappy about something. You don't know what it is, but you want to offer him some sort of comfort in a way that you know he likes—by offering him your body. Come stand in front of the dais and say the line."
"What vex thee, my lord?" she asked softly.
"It is the cause, o my soul, it is the cause," I said. Then I motioned for her to take off the gown. She drew in a breath, unfastened the top four buttons, and let the gown fall from her shoulders to her ankles. My God, she was beautiful! An absolutely perfect body with small but nice round breasts and a small muff that looked like it was made out of spun gold.
"I hope you don't have tattoos on your butt," I said with a smile.
"No." She smiled too.
"How does she look, Paul?"
"Turn around so Paul can see the other side," I said. She did so.
"My God," Paul said, "And she's a real blonde."
"Now you step up on the dais," I said, and she did so. "Othello still thinks it is his blackness that stands between them, so he takes off the sash from his robe, letting it fall open. The audience assumes that he is naked beneath it, but they cannot see that since you are in their line of sight. Just like the only part of you they can see is from the back. So while the scene involves nudity, it is not obscene or objectionable.
"Since I don't have a sash, we'll use this necktie. I picked up the blue necktie that I had draped over the arm of the chair, stood, walked over to her and fastened the tie around her eyes so she could not see.
"Othello desires you sexually, but he also wants to subject you, so he places his hands on your shoulders." I did so. "From past experience, she knows what that means, so she gets down on her knees before him." Ashley did so. "He wants her to perform oral sex on him. Since her head again covers the line of sight from the audience, she appears to do so. Have you had any experience with oral sex?"
"Not much," she says softly.
"Then we need to give you at least a little experience so you'll know what motions your head should be making."
This was the crucial point. If she went for this, I was a hundred dollars richer—plus having sex with a beautiful student. I unzipped my pants and took it out. I didn't need her mouth to give me a hard on; it already was hard—and I suspected that Paul's was too.
"Open your mouth," I said, and she did so. I placed the end of my already-wet cock on her tongue, and she closed her mouth on it. "You can use your hands so you don't choke." I suggested. She did so—but also choked a little. Looking over at Paul, I gave him the high sign.
After a little while, she got the hang of it and was sucking it like a pro. I think she was beginning to get the feeling now that this had more to do with the requirements of the "casting couch" than with the play—and I could see she really wanted the part.
I could easily have come in her mouth at that point, but I wanted to see how far I could go with this, how much she was willing to do. So I took it out and sat back down on the chair. "You know from past experience with Othello that this is the point where he likes you to straddle him and sit on his lap facing him." She stood up, walked over, and spread her dainty little thighs so that she could straddle my lap. There it all was: her beautiful breasts only inches from my chest, and her golden muffin lying only an inch from my stiff cock. She put her hands on my shoulders.
"He naturally is going to caress you," I said. She gave a little gasp as I cupped both of her breasts and fondled them. I easily could have kissed her at that point, but I thought that might be going too far. Instead, I stuck my middle finger in my mouth, cupped her furry muffin with my right hand, and after a few moments, stuck my finger inside of her. She winced. As I expected, she was not aroused and was very tight. But expecting that, I had brought something. "Since you're eighteen years old, I assume you're not a virgin?" I asked.
"No," she said softly, "But I've only done it twice."
"Then we need to have you practice the motions. Again, the only thing the audience can see is your back. I have something here that will help." I pulled the tube of KY Jelly from my pants pocket, squeezed out a good amount, and spread it around and inside the entrance to her pussy. Then I greased up my pole. "I had a vasectomy about ten years ago, so I won't have to use a condom," I said. "Sit up a little." She did so. "And move this way." She did so, and I gently inserted my cock into her still tight pussy." She drew in her breath. "Now go up and down on it...slowly."
Closing her eyes, she did so. I would like to say that I fucked her for a half hour in this manner, but the human body can stand only so much. In about five minutes, I exploded inside of her—and was surprised that my seed did not come dripping out of her eyes.
"Well, I think I can assure you that you have earned the part," I said. You can go and get dressed now."
She disengaged herself—which was not that easy—and walked naked across the room to the bathroom.
"My God...," Paul said after she had closed the door.
"You owe me a hundred dollars."
"It was worth it. What a show. Is there really going to be a nude scene in Othello?"
"Of course not."
Three days later, I announced to the now complete cast that the college had nixed the idea of the nude scene, so we would not be including it after all. Many of the cast laughed, thinking I was joking. But Ashley did not laugh.
The next afternoon she stopped in my office.
"So there's not going to be any nude scene?" she asked.
"No, sorry about that."
"Was there ever?"
She fell silent, and I realized this was the moment where I was going to find out how much trouble I was in.
She looked up. "Could I still rehearse it again anyway?"