This story involves non-traditional sex between people who are not married. If this topic offends you, please don't torture yourself by reading something that you may find offensive.
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I often wonder how my sexual preferences evolved to what they are today, but on reflection some of these experiences may have been a precursor if not a determinant.
I had been divorced from my first wife for several years was finishing up my advanced degree. Since I grew up a working man, it was easy for my childhood friends to help me with some lucrative summer jobs as a construction worker, welder, logger or railroad brakeman. This plus my income from my instructorship at a large Big Ten university offered me a comfortable bachelor existence. Not that my material desires were that great, but there was little in the way of those things that I could not provide. They were all used, of course, but I had a few shotguns and pistols, a F250 pickup, a motorcycle, and a Jon boat and trailer. Plus, I could afford to hang out at the local working-class bars drink, play pool, and flirt with the cashiers, hairdressers and line workers to my heart's desire.
Also, the university had a great gym, and the bulk of my days were spent teaching, studying and working out—often for hours a day. I was very fit, and this enhanced my social life which was already more than I could have hoped for.
Like nearly all my blue-collar buddies I had married in my teens. To this migrant from Southern Appalachia to a Yankee industrial center, she seemed an absolute vision. A beautiful, virginal spitfire, wild to be initiated into the sexual mysteries. Unfortunately, our mutual attraction originated from sex, and more sex but little else. Although I was working so hard at construction during the day while taking undergraduate courses at night, I didn't usually focus on my "true secret feelings" for her. But when I did, I recognized that I didn't even admire her that much—either physically or mentally. Earlier, my youthful sexual attraction to her was so broad and indiscriminate that it blotted everything out, especially when it came to her most prominent physical feature. I never really considered it, but over time, I came to realize that I was an ass man. She had great breasts which she was inordinately proud of; however, her butt, like a lot of big breasted women, was flat and unathletic. Believe me, I loved to play with those things, but her ass hardly moved me. It would have been different if I loved her, but as we grew apart, my disdain for her turned what sex we had into fulfilling perfunctory sexual needs and nothing more. Worse, as I became relatively more sophisticated from my studies, I came to realize that our conversations seldom went beyond her harridan of a mother and the next sweater buying opportunity. Even the hottest couple will eventually fuck out.
It would be hard to make up how unpleasant was the divorce, but as they say, "this too will pass." It did pass, and I chose to stay in school, live on my teaching assistant stipend and pay alimony—if you can believe it. Barely being able to afford a few beers on a Saturday night, I found myself being invited to graduate student potlucks which led to me making a wide circle of friends. Many of whom were female and were interested in sampling my athletic body. At the time, I weighed 175, was 6 feet, with a 44-inch chest, and 30-inch waist. I had always been a committed athlete even if not wildly successful from a varsity sport perspective. I had lettered in a couple of sports in high school, but certainly received no tenders. Not that I had opportunities to fill my time otherwise, I ran about an hour per day and worked out with weights about an hour or more beyond.
So, over the next few years, I acquired a lot of friends with benefits as they would say today, and even when these women moved on to more serious relationships, I often stayed on good terms with them--playing for their second or third team. I had ridden a few benches in my day. But add a few of these acquisitions up every year over a few years, and you can end up with a delightful and varied circle of sexual partners who like you as a person, but still mainly come to you for sex and some emotional comfort.
So, this is the background for this story.
Since I was now an instructor, I was often invited to faculty parties. These could be stultifying until the alcohol and dope took hold. However once people were sufficiently juiced, these gatherings invariably became ripe for sexual opportunities. The lecherous senior faculty were known to pursue starry-eyed graduate students while leaving their wives abandoned. These former starry-eyed graduate students were aware of the dynamic and were often looking for revenge against their philandering husbands. Many of these disaffected women were not much older than I, and usually ready for some intense sexual encounters. If you can find it, being on the receiving end of a revenge fuck may be the hottest thing going.
This party was about one month into the semester. It was a pleasant fall evening, and the sexual tension was humming. I was homing in on Dorothy Monahan who was married to a rather serious-minded post-doc with sexual identity issues. Dorothy wasn't particularly attractive in the conventional sense, but she put out an intense sexual vibe, and the butt on her tight slender frame was cute as hell. A few years ago at an earlier summer party, she asked me to take her for a ride on my motorcycle. Just as soon as we got up to some serious RPM, she shoved her pubic bone up against my tailbone and got off a couple of times. I thought that this was the beginning of a hot night, but when we got back to the party, she thanked me and went back to the party leaving me with some major blue balls.
Not necessarily feeling that she owed me, but certainly thinking that the door might still be open, I joined her in a small group where she was holding forth on some arcane theoretical issue of the day. She briefly acknowledged my presence and quickly introduced me while essentially ordering me to get her and her nearest colleague, Sharon, another drink. My first smartass reaction was to tell her to get her own fucking drink, but I was still in pursuit mode, and Sharon was looking at me with something like bemused interest.
I filled their drink orders but when I returned, Dorothy was in a corner in deep discussion with her advisor who had a possessive hand on her butt. Didn't look like this was to be my night. However, Sharon was an interesting package. She was married to a very wealthy Saudi who had to leave his graduate work in petroleum studies to attend to some urgent family business. He wasn't expected back to school this year, and Sharon was continuing her schoolwork alone. She was probably over dressed for this gathering, but her substantial wealth coupled with her Ivy League undergrad degree allowed her to pull it off. I immediately noticed that she wasn't trussing her small, but perky, breasts with a bra, and her tight skirt really framed her ass. Not the most beautiful woman I had ever encountered, but still very sexy, and way out of my league, but she was smiling, smiling. Intriguing.
I gave her the drink and gulped Dorothy's. Not going to let free alcohol go to waste. She immediately seemed to be toying with me. I had spent the summer out west logging with some friends of my high school buddies, and was dressed in cowboy boots, jeans and a tight T-shirt. She grabbed my bicep and asked me, "so you are the logger I have been hearing so much about."
