Zane's Sex Chronicles, page 15
I thought he was going to punch me for a second, but instead he just sat down on the coffee table and put his head in his hands. I went into the bathroom as I added, “In fact, you loved the way he fucked me too.”
I heard him shout from the other room, “What the fuck are you talking about, Noelle?” I didn’t answer him. Instead, I just came back in the living room wearing the black wig and white contact lenses. He leaped to his feet. “What the fuck? It was you?”
I giggled and crossed my arms in front of me while I leaned against the wall. “Yes, it was me. Truth be known, all this time you were saying I wasn’t freaky enough for you, but it’s the other way around. You’re not anywhere near freaky enough for me!”
He balled his hand into a fist, looked at me with his lips trembling for a couple of minutes while the whole sordid madness of the situation sank in, and then left, slamming the door behind him.
I’ve never seen Pierce again. The friendship between him and Trent ended the day Pierce found out I was moving into Trent’s mansion with him. I went back and claimed the man I really wanted. Trent was shocked at first to discover I was the woman who had turned his ass out, but he had been feenin for me the whole time, so it was all good.
Let this be a valuable lesson to all you men out there who don’t know a good thing until it’s gone. Never judge a book by its cover, and never underestimate the power of a woman, or else you might just find yourself by yourself.
Body Chemistry 101
His name was Professor Vaughn Mason. To me, he was simply heaven on earth. I was lucky enough to be in his organic chemistry class my freshman year at State. I started lusting after him the first day of class. One glance into his captivating bedroom eyes, one flash of his charismatic smile, and I was hooked.
I used to daydream during his class lectures, undress him with my eyeballs, and wonder if he was a tender or rough lover. During one of our lab periods, I almost spilled a beaker of hydrochloric acid on my thigh. I’d lost my concentration, fantasizing about milking his dick with my mouth.
After freshman year, I didn’t get to see Vaughn that often. A wave here, a smile there, an occasional greeting when we passed each other on the steps or in the halls of the Natural Sciences building. It was depressing.
Senior year rolled around, and purely by the luck of the draw, I ended up snagging his student assistant position. It was like winning the lottery. I would get to spend time with him, talk to him privately, and maybe even brush up against him on the sly every now and then.
So there I was, his assistant, and excited as I could possibly be about it. Vaughn, whom I never addressed by his first name to his face, was so dayum foine. He was about five-eleven, 180 pounds, deep chocolate with dark bedroom eyes, and had a sexy-ass bald head. His body, dayum, what can I say except the man was cut and looked like his muscles were chiseled out of stone. If ever there was a man who could make a woman’s pussy get wet by looks alone, he was the one.
I had just celebrated my twenty-first birthday during the summer. He was much older than I was, about forty, but I never asked. When a nucca is that fine, who gives a dayum about a number? He had never married, but he was shacking up with some nurse from the university hospital. Did I care? Hell, naw!
You can never control the way you feel. Which is why what happened just two weeks into the fall semester was beyond my control. Whenever I reflect on that day, I realize it was the single most erotic experience of my entire life—one that I wouldn’t trade for anything in this world.
I remember it so vividly, like it was yesterday. Vaughn had a faculty meeting that morning. I stayed behind in the chemistry lab to grade some exams for him. I was sitting at his desk, grading papers, and my mind began to wander as usual. I imagined him and me alone in the lab as we often were, but instead of just going about the course of a normal day, he had me bent over his desk and was fucking me doggy-style from behind. The thought of it made my pussy so wet.
Even though it was mid-September, it was terribly hot that day. The formfitting white button-down oxford shirt I had on with a navy above-the-knee skirt, white slouch socks, and a pair of Nikes, was clinging to my breasts. I had the windows ajar in the lab. The Natural Sciences building was one of the oldest on campus and without central air. The only real breeze in the room was coming from the box fan I had strategically placed on the top of one of the long laboratory tables.
The mere thought of his hands on me was driving me berserk. I masturbated in my dorm room all the time thinking about him, but on that particular day, I needed some fast relief and couldn’t stand the thought of having to wait until I went home. I analyzed the whole situation like a silent movie in my mind. The faculty meetings would usually last at least two hours, and I didn’t have a dayum thing to satisfy myself with. Unfortunately, I didn’t tote my vibrator around in my book bag. I would have done anything to have it at that moment.
I locked the door to the lab and went to sit back down at the desk. I leaned back in the comfortable leather desk chair with the reclining back and swivel base. I closed my eyes and fantasized about him kissing me on my lips, and my hands suddenly became his hands. I caressed my nipples through the cotton of my shirt. They were ripe and hardened. I unbuttoned the top three buttons and pulled both of my nipples out so that they were protruding from my bra.
I licked my lips, fantasizing about Vaughn sucking on them one at a time. I threw one of my legs up on top of the desk and, pushing my underwear aside, began to finger my pussy. It was so hot and moist, longing to feel his tongue. I stuck one finger in at a time until I was working three of them inside. I still had my eyes closed. In my mind, Vaughn was feasting off my sweet, tender pussy.
Finger-fucking myself was pleasing, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to feel something deep inside my pussy walls. I took my fingers out and licked my pussy juice off them, savoring my own flava. I opened my eyes and took a quick survey of the lab looking for something, anything, to use to fuck myself with.
Most of the items, like the microscopes and Bunsen burners, were out of the fucking question, but suddenly I spotted something that would do the trick. As I got up from the desk, I peeped the wall clock and realized that Vaughn hadn’t even been gone a good hour. I assumed there was enough time to finish myself off. I walked over to the closest lab table to the front and retrieved a large test tube, one that held 500 ml, and went back to the desk, positioning my leg back on the desk.
I moved my panties out of the way again and gently inserted the test tube into my pussy. I had it inverted so that the bottom, round part was the entry point of the tube. It was made out of unbreakable Pyrex, so I wasn’t afraid it would break and cut me if I got too carried away. To be honest, though, even if the glass had been breakable, I was so horny that it wouldn’t have mattered much.
The cool glass felt great as I slid it in and out my pussy. It even tickled a little. After I got a good rhythm going, I closed my eyes and began to fantasize about Vaughn again, imagining him sliding his hardened dick in and out my sugar walls. I began to moan as I caressed my nipples with my other hand, lifting one of my breasts as high as I could and flickering the tip of my tongue over the nipple. I moved the test tube in and out faster and faster and the pleasure was so intense that—
I never heard his key in the lock or the door open, but I heard it close. I opened my eyes, and he was standing there, with a look of shock on his face and his mouth hanging wide open. I was so embarrassed to be caught like that, with my leg on his desk, breasts hanging out everywhere, test tube in my pussy with juices all over it. I should have taken it out, gotten up, and fixed my clothes but something happened.
The look on his face was not one of disgust but one of desire. I don’t know how I could tell for sure, but I could. I was about to remove the tube when he said, “No, don’t stop!” Vaughn locked the door, came over, and knelt between my legs. We looked at each other with desire, even though we both knew we had no business being together like that.
He said, “Let me help you!” I could manage nothing but “Okay!” He put his left hand on the inner thigh of my right leg, the one that was raised on the desk, and with his other hand, he took control of the test tube. He fucked me with it, and the experience was so intense. I pinched my nipples and, with both hands available at that time, I pushed my breasts together and pushed then up toward my mouth, licking on my own nipples.
I was about to explode, and apparently he could tell that I was about to cum, because he took the test tube out of me and said, “No, I don’t want you to cum yet!” He put the test tube up to my mouth and said, “Lick it! Taste yourself for me!” As he held it in place, I placed my hand over his and began to lick my pussy juice off the test tube while we gazed in each other’s eyes. I licked it clean, and he gave me a kiss on my lips and sucked on my bottom lip, withdrawing a quick sample of my nectar from it.
He slowly put the test tube back into my pussy and began to fuck me with it again, but this time, he sucked on my breasts for me. I cupped my left one in my hand and fed it to him. He was grateful to have it. After a few moments, I fed him the other one too. He pulled my hips down a little farther on the seat and reclined it so that my ass was exposed just enough for him to finger it.
I couldn’t hold back anymore. I came harder than I had ever cum before. I can’t be sure, but judging from his reaction, I think he came also, even though his dick never left his pants. He pulled the cum-drenched tube from my pussy and devoured every last drop of it.
For at least ten minutes after that, we were speechless. I sat there recovering from what had just taken place. He stared at me while he ran his fingers through the baby-fine pussy hair on my swollen vagina. I cannot explain how it feels to make love to a person and never have actual intercourse. It was so sexy.
We were still sitting there, basking in the afterglow, the only sounds in the room being the rotating blades of the box fan and voices of coeds walking across campus far below the ajar windows, when a knock came at the door. We both snapped out of our trance instantly and I struggled to get dressed while Vaughn told the dean of the Chemistry Department that he would be right there. It turns out Vaughn had left the meeting to come retrieve some notes for a proposal he was supposed to give to the rest of the professors in the department and was due to go straight back. I guess the sight of a woman fucking herself with a test tube could throw most any man off track.
He left the room grinning from ear to ear, and I went back to grading papers with a smile on my face as well. I couldn’t believe what had happened, but I have never regretted it to this very day. Vaughn and I never mentioned it for the rest of my time at State. I remained his assistant and continued to call him Professor Mason.
I am now a chemist for a pharmaceutical company in Texas. Recently, I was going through some old boxes from college, and guess what I found? A 500 ml test tube made out of Pyrex. I wonder where that came from!
The Diary
It had been a long time since I visited my grandparents, and I was excited about spending a couple of days with them for Thanksgiving. When I got off the plane, both of them were waiting for me. With the exception of a few added wrinkles on their faces, they looked exactly like they did when I was a child.
They drove me back to the big country manor where my mother and her three sisters grew up. Once I threw my bags in the bedroom where I would be staying, the one that belonged to my mother as a child, I went down to the kitchen to help Grandma stuff the turkey and bake pies for dinner the next day.
Thanksgiving dinner was going to be great because I would get to see my aunts, their husbands, and all of my cousins. My parents were traveling in Europe, so they were going to have to miss it.
After we finished preparing everything, my grandparents and I sat in the living room by the fire and talked about the good old days. Grandpa surprised me by having a pizza delivered. I had never even pictured my grandparents eating something that wasn’t homemade, much less pizza. Times had really, really changed. There was no denying that.
One thing had remained the same, however, and that was how early they went to bed every night. By 9 P.M., they were both calling the hogs, since they got up around 5 A.M. every morning. They had retired years before but still rose early by force of habit.
I flipped through the channels of the old floor-model television in the living room, the only television in the entire house. They didn’t have cable. There were a few sitcoms on, but none of them interested me. I looked through the bookcase in my grandpa’s study, hoping to find something interesting to read. All his books were about carpentry, farming, fly-fishing, landscaping, home repair, and things of that nature, so I quickly gave up on the idea.
I quietly went upstairs to my mother’s bedroom, undressed, put on a white cotton nightgown, and tried to go ahead and fall asleep. There was no freaking way that was happening, because it was way too early for me.
I was going to hang my garment bag up in her closet, but the closet was packed to the brim with clothing that belonged to her as a teenager. I slipped on my bedroom shoes and went to check and see if there was some space for it in the hallway closet.
I opened the walk-in closet in the hall and found some space for my bag. The closet had a door in the rear of it that led to the attic. I was mad bored, and since there was nothing to watch on television and nothing to read, I elected to explore the attic instead.
I nudged open the door to the attic stairs, which was hard to open and squeaky, being that no one had been up there in years. After ascending the stairs and finding the pull string for the lightbulb, I was surprised to see there were very few spiderwebs around. However, there was a lot of dust, and I almost turned around in fear my allergies would start acting up.
I was reaching for the string to turn off the light when I noticed an old hope chest in a corner by the window seat. Normally, I am not a nosy person, but something drew me to the chest like a magnet. Besides, my whole point in going up there in the first place was to meddle through family heirlooms and mementos anyway.
I tried to open the chest, but there was a lock on it and the key was nowhere in sight. I shifted through a couple of boxes filled with clothing, cheerleader pom-poms and batons, yearbooks belonging to my mother and her sisters, and all the usual things until I found an old rusty screwdriver.
I used the flat head of the screwdriver to bust the lock on the chest. It didn’t take much effort, since the lock was flimsy after so much time. I sat down on the window seat and started pulling things out. There were several photographs of my grandparents when they were younger, pictures of their wedding, pictures of my mother and aunts as children and teenagers, pictures of my great-grandparents and other family members. There were some old lace handkerchiefs, a couple of hand-knitted cardigans, and even a poodle skirt.
Looking at all the old things made me crack up laughing. I couldn’t even relate to times like those. For me, growing up had been so different than the way my mother grew up. I guess one day my daughter, if I have one, will be saying the same thing about me.
After beginning to replace everything back in the trunk neatly, I noticed something stuck at the bottom I hadn’t noticed the first time around. I yanked on it and got it free. It turned out to be an old book of some sort with no visible name on the cover. The underside of it was sticky, as if something, maybe water, had seeped through the trunk over the years and made it adhere to the lining of the trunk.
I was hoping it was some famous classic novel I could take back down to the bedroom and read until I got sleepy. It wasn’t until I opened it up that I realized it was a diary.
The first page said, “This Diary Belongs To,” but the name had been smudged, and I couldn’t make it out.
I started flipping through it, looking to see if the keeper of the diary signed the pages, but none of them were signed. In fact, only the month and day were at the heading of each page. There was no year written down. I thought that was strange, but since I am not a sleuth or anything, I didn’t ponder the fact for very long.
The handwriting was unfamiliar to me, but I knew for sure it wasn’t my mother’s. I wondered which one of my aunts the diary belonged to. Since I knew it would be inappropriate to read the diary, no matter whose it was, I began to close it so I could put it back. But there was a bookmark in it, and I wanted to see what it said, so I opened it to that particular page.
The bookmark turned out to have a friendship poem imprinted on it, along with a bouquet of flowers. That was not the interesting part, though. Some words caught my eye, and I was shocked.
I sucked his dick, Fingering me, and I came so hard seemed to jump right up off the page at me. I was like “DAYUMMMMMMMMMM!”
I couldn’t prevent myself from reading the whole entry.
July 4th
I saw my Pookie earlier in the day at the Independence Day Parade. He looked so fine in his football uniform. He marched down Main Street with the football team and we, the cheerleaders, followed behind them with the marching band.
Momma wouldn’t let me go to the lake with him and the other kids directly after the parade. She made me come home and do all my regular Saturday chores instead. I hurried through them, making sure I would have them all done so she would let me go to see the fireworks.
I managed to get everything done and she told me I could go. I took a long, hot bath and put on some rosewater so I would smell sweet for my Pookie. I put on a blue dress, a white sweater, some white bobby socks, along with my new pair of saddle shoes, and headed down to the lake where the fireworks show was going to be.
When I got there, Pookie and his friends had already been there for hours. They were kind of drunk from drinking the moonshine Pookie’s Uncle Willy makes in his homemade still.
I rushed into his arms and he kissed me on my lips, slipping his tongue in my mouth for a brief second. He didn’t dare kiss me any more than that in public. He knew if news of it got back to my daddy, we would both be in for a serious whupping.
