Origins

This is a continuation of Origins Parts I and II.

I was hard to figure this crazy bitch. On our first date, she crossed her legs on me at the last moment like some indecisive teenager. The next morning she fucked my brains out, and sat in her kitchen drinking coffee with her legs spread and cum dripping on the floor, then last night I found her on the verge of being fucked by a motorcycle gang, and now she was waking me up with a blowjob. Not complaining, but usually you can fit people, or at least their personas, into some broad category such that you can interact with them more efficiently. I guess she wasn't the prude that I originally thought her to be, not quite the gay divorcee. Her recklessness seemed almost suicidal, but that didn't quite fit either. It would be a challenge to have to engage with her on a regular basis, but she did have the makings of a great fuck buddy. Her idiosyncratic sexual proclivities were a trip, even though there was still the wealthy Saudi husband lurking out there somewhere. I was used to being on the receiving end of some pretty wild revenge sex offered by disaffected and ignored faculty wives, was this what this was?

All this was flashing through my mind, but why overanalyze a great wake-up blowjob—after all, we weren't in a relationship, so what was the concern? The blowjob ended in a healthy cum shot that she gulped down, and while she kept sucking, she maneuvered around so that her still dripping pussy was positioned over my face. Not being the least bit fastidious, I tried valiantly to lick her clit which she was aggressively grinding into my nose, lips and chin. I could just barely manage a few breaths between gyrations and that fecund pussy smell was helping me rise to the occasion.

She clamped her pussy hard unto my face while she came, and when I came up gasping for air, I spun her around, pinned her heels by her ears and started slamming into her as hard as I could. Since I couldn't get much purchase with my knees on the mattress, I moved her to the edge of the bed, so I could lean over her with my feet on the floor and pound her. She was not as fit as I, so she started gasping for breath early all the while clawing my back and groaning incoherently between gasps. Her pussy was very loose, but it was also hot and juicy, and there was still enough friction to pull another load out of me which came soon after.

I pulled her close to me, and we cuddled while our breathing returned to normal. Today was not a teaching day, but I didn't know her schedule, so asked the obligatory, "Do you need to get back to your apartment?" She seemed a little miffed as if this were a brushoff, but she only said. "No, I only have a 3 hour seminar tonight. What is your schedule?"

"I have enough to work on here, if you want to stay, and depending on when I take you back, I can either substitute a long run for my work out or go to the gym for my usual routine."

"Are you always this anal about schedules?" Her disparaging tone didn't affect me at all. I had been hearing variations of this for years coming from my working class friends and relatives. "Look, writing a dissertation is difficult, and it is very easy to get off track. I am in a groove right now, and I intend to finish.

I think she got the message, and after a moment's reflection, she asked. "Can I shower and then fix us some breakfast?"

"Sure, let me show you where everything is."

She wasn't very modest about covering her pussy when she climbed out of bed, and the fresh cum dripping down her legs, mixed with the dried cum got me another easy erection. However, there was also a lot of dried cum on her tits and stomach. I didn't have an opportunity to get drunk last night, and I certainly didn't remember firing on her tits and stomach. Just what had she been doing with those bikers? Then, all last night came back to me. There was a day of reckoning waiting out there, but in the meantime, I followed her into the shower.

Sharon was soaping her pussy when I pulled back the curtain. She looked expectantly up at me, and without any further ado, I turned her around, and began pounding her from behind. Her pussy was still loose, but very wet, and neither of us lasted very long—especially after she commanded me to "pinch my nipples, pinch them hard!!"

After drying off, we went to the kitchen. I started some coffee, while she boiled some eggs in saucepan, made some toast, and poured some juice. Neither of us spoke much, but it certainly gave me a tingle to watch the remnants of my last load start to trickle down her inner thigh.

After breakfast, I pulled on some jeans and went to check on my bike. I was still worrying over whether my old crankshaft could handle the extra load caused by the recent headwork, valve job and high flowing carbs. It was foolish of me not to go all the way through the engine, but my brother-in-law offered to do the top end for free- after hours at the machine shop where he worked. I couldn't pay for it myself, and he didn't offer to tear it the rest of the way down. I certainly wasn't going to quibble. All I had to do was agree to let him ride it sometime. I had been babying it until last night when I had slammed it hard going and coming from the Cherokee. The only issue was that if the crank went, you probably would need a new engine.

I didn't hear any unnatural sounds when I started it up, so I went back into the house to check on Sharon who had made herself right at home with an old work shirt of mine, plus my copy of

Wittgenstein's Notebooks,1914-16

, and as I noticed when she crossed her legs, no panties. "I hope you don't mind, but I am supposed to be familiar with the first 20 pages for tonight's seminar."

I swear that I could smell her pussy, was she hot again? In any case, I was fine sitting here doing my own work while occasionally catching a strong whiff of her hot snatch. We interrupted our studies around mid-morning for another slam fuck-my cock had been twitching since I had sat down to my desk. We had a much more leisurely fuck after a late lunch. After all, that was my fifth time for the day.

We both dozed off following the afternoon sex, but when I woke, she was humping my hip while trying to give me a reach around. This was hot, but I was spent, so I rolled over to make out with her while I stuck 4 fingers in her pussy and jammed it as hard as I could. She came a couple of times on my hand, and if we had more time, I could probably have gone again, but it was time to get her to class, so she showered again, we both dressed, and I dropped her at her loft, so she could change into a more suitable seminar costume.

She hadn't said much on the ride home, but sat so that when I shifted gears, I grazed her inner thigh which caused her to giggle every time—such that I started running through all four at every stop—even though the lower "mule" gear would only get up to about 5 miles an hour. This bottom gear was so seldom used, that I had to control the steering wheel with my chest while I used both hands to jam it into gear. This too, Sharon found highly entertaining. She seemed to appreciate the effort and would stroke my bicep as I exerted myself.

We didn't say much as we parted, but I think we both knew that we would be seeing one another again. And although it was way off my schedule, I still went to the gym for a desultory workout that had me spending more time in the Sauna than on the Bench. I skipped dinner and went home to a large bowl of Cream of Wheat, bananas, blueberries, milk and syrup, and I swear, jerked off thinking of that hot snatch before I fell into a deep sleep.

To be continued . . .