Life with a Nympho - Ch. 6 Life is full of surprises
"I think one of my profs wants to fuck me."
"Just one of them?" I inquired.
Kelly often came up with zingers like this, though it wasn't always after we'd just stopped making love for the past half hour. To be honest, I was surprised I'd come up with that response so quickly.
It was a Saturday in late January. I loved weekend mornings because it meant there was more time for teasing, sucking and fucking than on weekdays, when I was lucky to get a blow job or a quickie before Kelly raced off to school and I headed to the office. Maybe we'd have more time if we didn't stay up past midnight most nights drinking wine and having sex.
"It's my strategy seminar prof. Handsome dude. Can't seem to take his eyes off me."
"Earth to Kelly. That pretty much describes the entire heterosexual male population."
"You're too kind," she said, rolling over and rubbing her breasts and pussy up against me again. "But don't worry. I won't let him near me. You're all I can handle."
"We aim to please," I laughed.
Kelly seemed to be enjoying her MBA studies, and was doing very well so far. It was a blessing that she had something to keep her busy so that she wouldn't dwell on what happened that night at the strip club. At times, I imagined she was thinking about it, but if I touched on the subject β even to ask if she was doing okay generally β she waved me off and changed the subject.
"We gotta get up," she announced. "Busy day. I want to clean the condo. All we do is eat and sleep and fuck, and it's a bit of a mess."
"I keep telling you, we could hire a maid. You're way too busy to be sweeping floors and cleaning toilets."
"It makes me feel like it's more my place if I contribute," she said as she went into the ensuite. I marvelled at her naked body, and even though we'd just enjoyed a long lovemaking session, my cock stirred.
"While you're playing Suzy Homemaker, maybe I could go online and look for one of those French maid costumes for you. Probably should have bought you that for Christmas instead of that schoolgirl outfit that you haven't worn to class yet!"
"I think that would send the wrong message to Ian, she responded.
"Ian?"
"Yeah, Ian Henderson. The strategy prof I was telling you about."
"You're already on a first-name basis with him?" I asked.
"He insists. Everyone calls him Ian. It's not as if we're a bunch of 18-year-old undergrads."
Kelly emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of tight leggings and a sinfully sheer tight white t-shirt that did little to conceal her boobs, particularly her prominent nipples.
"Still planning to waste your hard-earned money on a maid outfit?" she asked as she bent over to give me a kiss. "Maybe after I'm done the other cleaning, I can polish this with my mouth," stroking my cock.
"I don't know how much you charge for your cleaning services, but I can tell you it'll be worth every penny."
Kelly laughed and headed to the kitchen to make us some coffee. I pulled on some shorts and a t-shirt and started tidying up the bedroom.
"We can probably get this done in an hour, and then we can go out for a nice brunch," I said.
Just then, I felt my phone buzz. Somebody had sent me a text. It was Brad, my old college friend who'd hosted the party just before Christmas.
"Hey man, not sure if you heard, but Connor died tragically over the holidays. Not sure of the details. We're all devastated. We're planning to get together tomorrow afternoon at Finnigan's to raise a glass. Hope you can join us around 2."
Needless to say, I wasn't going to share this with Kelly, but she was curious.
"Who are you talking to?" she asked.
"Uhh, it's my mom. I told her last week that I was engaged. She and my dad were down south for a while but they're back, and they really want to meet you. I was thinking maybe heading out there during your reading week next month. Sound good?"
I hated lying to her, and while I had told my parents about Kelly, we'd made no plans to get together.
"Meeting the parents. The most painful part of any new relationship," she responded. "But a necessary evil, I guess. Sure, let's go. As long as they don't make us sleep in separate bedrooms."
"My dad will want to sleep in your bedroom. Dirty old man. I learned everything I know from him."
We finished our coffee, and Kelly started cleaning the kitchen. I went into my office to respond to Brad.
"Sorry, I'm out of town on business. Really sad news. Please offer my condolences to everyone who shows up."
There was no way in hell I was going to a memorial for Connor.
I finished cleaning up the bedroom and got out the broom and vacuum. We were actually finished in under an hour, and even though it seemed silly to scrub down the shower and then use it immediately, we could never resist the urge to shower together.
"I think I'm ready for you again," Kelly whispered as she wrapped her arms around me. "And by the looks of things, you're ready for me too. But I'm famished. Let's get dressed and go out, and see what happens later."
We made the 10-minute walk to our favourite brunch spot. As usual, there was lineup out the door, but it usually moved pretty quickly, and because it wasn't too cold or windy that day, we decided to wait.
"Tony, is that you?" I heard a familiar voice behind me, and panicked as soon as I turned around. It was Brad, accompanied by his wife Mary and their girls. What were the odds? They lived in suburbia, for fuck's sake.
"I thought you told me you were out of town. What's going on?"
I could feel my face turning red, and Kelly looked at me quizzically. I had to say something fast. But Brad beat me to the punch.
"Kelly, right? We met at the pool party last summer. I'm a bit surprised to see you here with Tony." His tone wasn't friendly.
"Can we have a quick word in private? Kelly, why don't you get to know Mary and these lovely young ladies a bit better? Brad, let's go over here."
The two of us crossed the street. Before I could say anything, he started peppering me with questions.
"What the fuck? You stole his girlfriend? No wonder he was in such rough shape before Christmas!"
"Brad, it's not like that at all," I began.
"And she's a fucking stripper. Did she tell you that?"