Origins Pt. 05

This is a continuation of Parts I-IV

Phyllis had been much drunker than I, and after our unadorned, lusty fucking back at my place, we both fell into a pretty deep sleep. I say unadorned because as a rule the relationships with the Pub barmaids didn't involve oral sex. Our leaving together was closely watched by socially inept horndogs too bashful to approach her. This was still mainly an engineering school, and the men often greatly outnumbered the women. Phyllis was hotly pursued, if only from afar, and when she was drunk, not very discriminating—especially on her breaks. She was well-known for handing out quickies in the parking lot, and sometimes more than one. I appreciated the hot sex, but I wasn't looking forward to having one of my gym buddies ask me how I enjoyed sucking his cum out of her pussy.

Since I was the more sober one, I slept a solid 6 hours and by mid-morning was at my desk starting on the outline of my next dissertation chapter leaving Phyllis blissfully snoring away. While starting my second pot of coffee, I pondered my recent experiences with Sharon. I felt a connection, but I clearly had no claim on her. She was married after all. I could hardly expect her to be less discriminatory in her sex partners than I. Look who was in my bedroom. Attractive, fun, high energy girl, but hardly a paragon of intelligence or virtue. More relevantly, and not that I cared, but Phyllis' tits were much bigger than Sharon's even though their frames were similar. That is, if you wanted to compare pertinent anatomies. So, I couldn't point any fingers if Sharon was enjoying sex with someone with a much bigger cock. But the main issue of concern was the owner of that big cock, Viktor. He was a walking bundle of pathologies who, when he wasn't making my blood boil, was making my skin crawl. As a rule, I kept him out of sight and out of mind except for running into him during his pursuit of partners at faculty parties, and of course, the gym.

Eventually, it was going to come out about our sharing Sharon, and I wasn't looking forward to that sneering confrontation. Whatever Sharon may have thought, if she thought about it, there was nothing discrete about this guy. He clearly relished lording his sexual prowess over the men attached to his conquests. Within his own weird cohort of misfits, he had the status of a charismatic cult leader. His followers vicariously shared his sexual conquests and later humiliations. In fact, you could sometimes hear these wretches in various venues crowing over his exploits as if they were the initiators. When seeing this from afar it was amusing but being a direct participant in this sick intersection of whackos was not very appealing to me.

As I sat back down to my desk, I heard Phyllis in the shower. I knew her showering habits, and it would continue until the hot water ran out. The hot water service at her apartment was spotty if at all, and I certainly didn't begrudge her the pleasure. Later, I was deeply engrossed in my outline when I felt one of her magnificent tits graze my ear from behind while her semi-dry hair fell over my eyes. I was at once at attention and turned directly into her hard nipples. I quickly reached for her pussy, but she backed saying, "I'm too sore." Not that I cared, but this confirmed that last night she had been fucking guys on her breaks. "How about I jerk you off while you suck on my titties?" No problem there. They were magnificent. Slightly larger than her frame, you could see them from behind when she raised her arms. Her nipples were prominent and pointed upward showing what a connoisseur would call a "positive rotation." She pulled up a chair, and we had so much fun that I ended up coming twice, and she even rubbed a couple out on her clitty. Phyllis focused considerable energy into sex, and she always got high marks for creativity. I guess that I was just being my usual hound dog self.

She had nominally been an undergraduate student in a variety of disciplines for years and was sadly just a fleeting time away from being one of those dreary womb babies who haunt the library, but never take a degree. However right now, she was fun and vibrant, and I wished her better than where she appeared headed. So, I dropped her at the Student Union and went to the gym for my daily workout.

Of course, Viktor was the first person that I saw when I walked into the weight room. I was ever vigilant for a smirk, but he merely nodded in my direction and continued with his workout. He was too lazy to really exert himself, but he was clearly strong. Usually, after a modicum of stretching, he would go to the dead lift station. He was about 6'2'' with large chest and shoulders, arms with little definition, and a huge gut—probably went 275 or higher. Incredible, I bet Sharon didn't weigh much over 100. I had seen him dead lift as high as 500#, but normally, he would just do a couple of reps with meaningful groans while one of his cadre looked on adoringly. Today wasn't any different, and now I was sure they were on their way to the Sauna where everyone would lounge around admiring his package. He had a constant stream of chatter going with his followers, and on the way out I heard just a couple of phrases. "yeah. . . first thing . . .hit it hard . . .begged . . .slave . . ."

However, they were gone now, and I could put Sharon out of my mind and focus on my workout. Today was upper body day, and I hit it hard. Bench, pullups and dips with a weight belt, military presses, curls, and then cleans with moderate weight until exhaustion. I was so arm weary that I had to push the door to the locker room open with my butt, and happily when I entered from the weight room side, Viktor and his train were long gone. Feeling physically enervated, but mentally re-energized, I walked through a pleasant fall dusk to the main cafeteria in the Union. Even though it was cafeteria food, the university had a major hospitality school, and the cafeteria was used as practice for its students. With thoughtful choices, you could get a very nutritious meal at a low price.

By now, I was very hungry, focused on finding a table to replace my depleted calories. So, I didn't see Dorothy Monahan and Sharon giggling conspiratorially near the entrance. I was already committed to my line of attack, so I couldn't change without being too obvious, and I had to walk right by them. When they glanced up and saw me, their abrupt silence coupled with the embarrassed looks on their faces made it clear that I was the object of their merriment. They were so shocked that they didn't say anything, and I moved as far away as I could and sat down to my meal. Sharon, who was dressed as for a date, left shortly after I sat down avoiding my eye on the way out.

I pulled research cards from my back pocket to review while I ate, so I didn't notice Dorothy approach. I used to really enjoy her sassy company, but now I looked to avoid her. She sat down without invitation and stared intently. "Please have a seat, Dorothy."

"Spare me the sarcasm, I heard about your encounter with Sharon yesterday in the stacks. Were you stalking her?"

"How could I stalk her? I didn't even know she had a carrel." Administratively, it was a big deal to be assigned a study carrel. I had been so focused on Sharon's sexual escapades that I hadn't even considered that. She wasn't even a doctoral candidate, so how could she be in a study carrel? "Dorothy, I hope you are not going to gossip about this, and why were they up there anyway?'

"I share that carrel with John, and we seldom use it, so I let Sharon borrow the key. What do you care?"

"That's between you all, I was just curious since I had to wait years for the privilege."

That also answered another question about the persistent sexual murmurings that I had been hearing early in the morning ever since I moved in. Dorothy, who was clearly fucking around on her feckless husband, was using it as a remarkably utilitarian fuck pad. There was nothing about those dreary surroundings that would inspire passion. It would have to be all self-generated. Just another example of how hot Sharon was for Viktor.

"Look, this can't be a big deal, is it? You barely know Sharon. Isn't that right?" She asked with a meaningful questioning look on her face. Although she could be remarkably blunt when asked a question, Sharon often left you with the sense that she knew more than she offered.

I soldiered on. "That is true, and I have no claims on her, but I don't plan to be Viktor's punk either." I am not one of his wimpy cuckolds, and I won't put up with any of his usual jive." This gave her a bemused expression which preceded a shocking revelation.

"Look, he can be discrete. I have been seeing him for over a year. I was the one who introduced them." Dorothy, who generated this compellingly weird sexual vibe despite her flat chested, ectopic build, didn't weigh more than 90 pounds to Viktor's 300. I had trouble blocking that image, so I changed the subject by going on the offensive.

"Dorothy, you are killing me." I said with a smile. "When do I get my chance?"

"How about right now, John is in Chicago at a symposium, and I want to take your mind off Sharon's date with Viktor, tonight," she said with that sardonic smile of hers.

"Great, let's go."

Luckily, Dorothy's facial expressions didn't show that she detected the quick lurch that I felt at the news. And to hide my discomfort, I smiled weakly, gathered up my tray and walked to the return as she followed just a few steps behind.

Nothing that Dorothy said or did surprised me, so after I dropped off my tray at the return, and still suspecting a tease from her, I turned expecting a sort of gotcha routine. Instead, she subtly caressed my butt and said, "I have a bottle of my favorite wine at home; can we take your ride? John has a car."

Although I had been kind of kidding her and wasn't really in the mood after hearing about Sharon's date with Viktor, I had been playing around with Dorothy off and on for a couple of years. Especially memorable was when I took her for a ride on my bike during a large house party, and she ground one out on my tailbone that was conveniently conducting vibrations to her clit. She didn't offer me any relief, and afterward just walked away literally saying, "thanks for the ride." I was ready to bring this to closure.

She lived out in the country in a rundown ranch style on the frontage road of a large farm. It was common for farmers to rent homes like this for a nominal rate just to keep them occupied. Great deal if you could find one. I wouldn't be surprised if the farmer was getting other benefits from the transaction. Dorothy was capable of anything. When we arrived, she steered me away from the bedroom, I guess out of loyalty to John, and led me to an enclosed back porch that had a large, broken down but comfortable looking over-stuffed couch—smelling faintly of sex. The couch was westward looking, and I could easily envision sitting there on a summer evening with the windows opened watching a glorious sunset on the prairie and then fucking your brains out.

While we were drinking the wine, she moved close enough to stroke my cock and suddenly jumped up and pulled her light flowered dress over her slight frame. Not surprisingly, she wasn't wearing anything underneath. She was flat chested with nipples like thumb thimbles and large, dark areolas. But she had the biggest pussy I had ever seen on a woman of any size. It was dripping, glistening, and its pungent odor complemented the odor of the couch. Guess this wasn't her first time. With surprising strength, she pushed me back and started humping my hard cock through my jeans. She was not to be denied, and with her hands firmly on my shoulders, she rode me hard with her tongue stuck so far down my throat that I could hardly breathe. I felt as if she had my cock, jeans and all, inside her pussy. She was hot and came hard quickly while I twisted and pulled her nipples. When she stopped humping through her aftershocks, I could feel her moisture through my jeans. Not that I was surprised, but this was one hot, agile woman.

After she regained her breath, she jumped up again and started pulling my jeans down below my knees but not off. Obviously, she wanted to control our movements, but she was getting no complaints from me. My cock was already hard, and she was quickly on it sucking and slobbering me to a quick orgasm which produced a heavy shot of cum which she captured completely. After which, she climbed back to her original position, and started humping my softening cock while she pushed all my cum deep back into my throat. Her pussy was so big that it could easily gobble up my softening member which she rode until it was rock hard again. Surprisingly, though, her Kegel muscles were well developed, and I could feel her oversize cunt working my cock like a well-lubricated hand. She was working my cock so hard that she had to pull her tongue out to help her breathing, but it was it obvious she was near again. As she came, she ground down on my cock with remarkable moves that quickly pulled out another round from me that seemed larger than the last one.

She nestled against my chest while she rested. Normally, you would expect sweet nothings, but this was not a normal woman. "So, did this take your mind off the fact that Viktor is fucking Sharon right now?"

"I can guarantee that I haven't been thinking about Sharon while I was fucking you, but since you bring it up, how you are so certain that they are fucking right now?

"Trust me, he can keep it up for hours, and if he is not already hard, he expects you to keep sucking it stiff, until he decides he is done. He is very selfish lover."

"Well since, you insist on talking about him, let me ask you a question. How can you stand for him get on top of you when he outweighs you by 200 lbs.?"

"It can be disgusting, especially when he works himself into a sweat, but I generally prefer to be on top. Drives him crazy if he is not in control. Sharon loves it, though: she can do it for hours. It is her favorite position next to standing doggy. He is so much taller than she that it is a virtual impalement, and once he gets going, he won't stop until he cums. Once, she showed me a knot on her head when he was slamming her so aggressively that her head was banging the wall."

This was too much information, and Dorothy being one of the most intuitive persons I had met, followed with this stunning revelation. "But you know she really likes you, likes being with you, likes fucking you, but she is Viktor's sex slave, and they both know it. That is why she was feeling so guilty seeing you tonight, why she was so upset when you caught her fucking him in the carrel, and why she asked me to bring you home and take your mind off things. She was desperate to pull you back into the carrel and fuck you for all she was worth the other day, but Viktor stretches her out so much that neither of you would have felt anything, and her offering herself stretched out pussy to you would just have added fuel to the fire. You know, you usually hide it well, but you have anger management issues. Truth be known, he disgusts her, but he has this preternatural control over her. It is remarkably uncommon. For example, neither of us can stand that cheap cologne that he douses himself in. Even though it nauseates me, I suffer through it to get the big cock, but Sharon bought a bottle to sniff while she masturbates. There is no explaining it."

I was starting to wonder if I really wanted to live a "true and genuine life" as I often self-righteously claimed. Because if this this were all real, this was way too much for me to manage right now, if ever. I thought we were just fuck buddies, and now I was starting to obsess over her despite myself.

As she was talking, Dorothy had moved to my side slowly jerking me while I idly fingered her. Finally, noticing that I easily had four fingers in her pussy. Since I had never fisted anyone, I started to move into a position to try, but Dorothy pushed my hand away.

"If you are trying to do what I think you are, I only let John do that, but four fingers are nice if you rub my clit with your thumb. So, I followed her wishes while she gave me a slinky hand job with lube that she had stashed between the cushions.

"OK, you've caught me out. I am curious about Sharon. And why is she so enamored with this guy? I never had much reason to notice him except to avoid him and his crew when possible, but now here I am sharing him with a woman that I am interested in."

"That's a good question, but all I know is that she is coming to be my best friend, and all she talks about is you and fucking that disgusting Viktor. And as I well know, he can be very disgusting. I fuck him because as you have seen, this pussy can take a huge cock, and his is the biggest I've ever had, but she does it because she likes the humiliation. For example, she is also constantly talking about how big his cock is, how she likes how it stretches her out, and how she can't believe she can take all of it. She is also always talking about how kinky he is-like when he pulls that huge slab out to cum on her stomach. The head sticks well past her navel, and she can't even get her hand around it to stroke it off. Then, after he cums on her stomach, he rubs that hideously fat belly in the mess, and just to humiliate her, makes her lick up every bit—even that stuck to his wiry body hairs. She is humiliated, disgusted, but she loves it."

"That's a lot to assimilate."

"Well you know me. I don't hold back. Now, rub my clitty a little harder, yeah, that's it. Keep it up just like that."

"Well, what do you propose that I do now?"

"That is entirely up to you, but I can tell you this, she really cares about you. She is not a glamorous beauty, but she is attractive, sexy as hell, smart, and she likes to fuck you. You could do a lot worse."

"Except she is a sex slave to a monster cock that stretches her pussy to an unusable degree."

"You are a smart boy, you'll figure it out, now fingerfuck that pussy. Jam it. Yeah, jam it, Keep doing it just like that."

Shortly after, she came. I finished myself on her thigh and rubbed it around which caused her to smile a bit, and as she was dozing off. I pulled up my jeans, put a nearby comforter on her, and headed to my Ford 250.

I had much to think about.

To be continued . . .