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Paula's Retreat

By: davidwatts



For John and Paula.

**************************

Monday.

Paula gave her husband John a wave as she pulled the car out of the driveway, blowing a kiss for good measure before checking her watch. It was a good two and a half hour drive to the hotel where the teacher's conference was being held, and Paula knew she would have to step on it to make it on time to register.

With their girls being older, it was much easier on John for her to attend these sessions now, which were necessary for Paula to maintain her teaching credentials. Luckily she only had to endure it every four or five years, and in a way Paula was looking forward to it this time. With the girls in their late teens they didn't much want Mom around the house anyway. As for John, most likely he would be playing around on the computer much of the time anyway.

Paula got to the hotel in Oxford with about 20 minutes to spare and had just enough time to register and find her way to the conference room where the introductory session was being held. She saw a few somewhat familiar faces but no one she knew well so she settled for a seat off to the side of the room and tried to stay awake through an hour of boring speeches.

At the end of the presentation, Paula was shaken out of her boredom when the speaker introduced a man who would be directing the rest of the session. An imposing looking man in both appearance and gait strode up to the podium and surveyed the room before speaking. While it had been about 20 years, Paula recognized the man immediately, and she sat up straight in her seat as a reflex action in memory of earlier days.

Professor Wright. Mr. Wright, Paula's favorite instructor from her first year at the university. His familiar booming bass voice filled the room and Paula's ears, and he spoke so forcefully and dynamically that the microphone was soon discarded as being unnecessary.

Paul Wright took command of the room right away, and Paula noticed the most of the others in the room were quickly shaken from their lethargy and were energized much like she had found herself.

The years had been very kind to Professor Wright, Paula noted as she watched him intently. At about 6'4" he was always an imposing man, and now that his thinning, reddish brown hair had gone completely, replaced by a smooth and gleaming bald dome, he was even more so. Mr. Wright seemed to have lost a bit of weight as well, not that he was all that heavy to begin with, and he certainly didn't look anywhere near the 60 or so years he must be now.

Paula tried to make eye contact with Mr. Wright, but his eyes were moving around the room rapidly, keeping everyone on the edges of their seats, almost daring them to not pay attention. It was his style, and Paula noted that it was still working well on her, even though she was no longer the shy and awkward student she had been when she had last heard him speak.

It wasn't until the end of the day when Paula finally got to speak to Professor Wright. As the class broke up, Paula walked up to the podium, where the professor was shuffling the papers he had been using in his presentation. Paula was certain that he would be surprised to see her, if he recognized her, that is. After all, it had been 20 years, and Paula never saw herself as the type of girl in terms of either looks or achievement to be all that unforgettable.

So Paula was delighted when Mr. Wright raised his head, a big smile on his face, and greeted her warmly.

"Paula! How good to see you!" Mr. Wright said, his booming voice tempered for the first time all day. "You look more beautiful than ever!"

"Oh gee!" Paula said, momentarily stunned at him remembering her. "It's great to see you too. I wasn't sure you'd remember me."

"You must be kidding," Mr. Wright said, holding out his hand.

Paula's sweaty little hand disappeared inside the huge paw of the professor, and he clasped it with both of his hands as he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

"I never forget a face," Mr. Wright said adding, "Especially that of my favorite student."

They began chatting, and finally Mr. Wright suggested they have dinner together.

"I'd love too!" Paula gushed excitedly. "My bags are still in the car because I got here just in time for the seminar. In fact, I haven't even gotten my room yet."

"Well, let's meet in the dining room in about an hour," Paul said, and Paula agreed.

Paula registered and had her bags brought up to her room. The room was the traditional chain variety, nothing special, and Paula decided against changing her clothes, just touching up her make-up and applying a touch of cologne before hurrying down to the restaurant. Besides, Paula had felt overdressed in the peach pantsuit she had worn, compared to most of the other teachers who had dressed casually, and she would look fine for dinner.

Two and a half hours later, Paula and Mr. Wright were into the second bottle of wine, and Paula was having a wonderful time. The crowd in the restaurant had thinned out considerably, and since it seemed like they would be there for a while longer, Paula slipped off the blazer she was wearing and set it on the curved bench of the booth they were sitting at.

"So you married that young fellow you were seeing back at school?" Mr. Wright asked.

"John? Yes, we had been going steady since I was sixteen and here we are today still together with two lovely girls, 16 and 14."

"I'm very happy for you," Mr. Wright said, placing his hand on Paula's bare forearm and giving her a little squeeze. "No problems or anything? No separations, affairs or the like?"

"Goodness no," Paula said. "Well, we have our share of squabbles I suppose, like everybody does. I drive him crazy by always putting myself down, and he's always on that computer, or so it seems."

"A workaholic I take it?" Mr. Wright mused, his fingers softly stroking Paula's arm.

"Work? Goodness no!" Paula exclaimed with a giggle. "Boys do like to play though."

"Games?"

"Well, actually I came across these pictures of women on his computer. You know, naked women."

"From magazines?"

"No, that's the thing," Paula said. "They were just regular women, and they sent John pictures of themselves naked. Very boldly posed too. Turns out he had been chatting with some of them on-line. Can you imagine?"

"Can I imagine?" Mr. Wright said. "No, not if I had someone else in the house. Especially someone as beautiful as you. With Olivia gone, I'm afraid that I don't have that luxury."

"I am so sorry about her passing," Paula said, putting her hand over his. "I remember how close you were to her, and how she would stop by school to see you. I'm sorry I hadn't heard about it."

"Thank you Paula, I appreciate that," Mr. Wright said before returning to the subject. "Now tell me, what exactly would your husband do with the pictures once these women sent them to him."

"Uh, I don't know," Paula said, looking as if the thought had not occurred to her previously. "Looked at them I guess."

"Just looked at them?" Mr. Wright said with an upraised eyebrow. "And why is it that these women would just send him pictures of themselves out of the blue?"

"Not really sure of that either," Paula said, swirling around the wine that was left in her glass. "John wasn't really clear about that. We had quite a row over that."

"I wouldn't blame the lad too much," Mr. Wright said. "It's natural for us males to be curious about such things. Perhaps he's sent pictures of himself to them as well, as sort of a trade. Or maybe pictures of you."

"Me?" Paula said with alarm, suddenly remembering that day they got their digital camera and John had talked her into posing for some candid pictures. Luckily John said he had gotten rid of them right after they had looked at them. Good thing too, because they showed exactly how bad she looked without clothes on.

"No," Paula said decisively. "There wouldn't be any pictures of me anywhere like that."

"I wouldn't think so," Mr. Wright said with a smile. "If there were, I'd be giving your man a ring and buying a set off of him."

Paula chuckled nervously and was happy that Mr. Wright had moved his hand off of her arm for the moment, although Paula now felt the warmth of his knee against her thigh as they sat near each other on the curved cushioned bench.

"Well," Paula said, trying to change the subject. "I'm here because of you, you know, Mr. Wright. It's you that influenced me to become a teacher, and I'm happy that I did."

"That's flattering," Mr. Wright said. "Tonight's first lesson is that you have to drop the Mr. Wright moniker. It's Paul."

"Oh, alright."

"Alright what?" Mr. Wright asked.

"Alright Paul," Paula replied meekly, feeling odd at calling him by anything other than Mr. or Professor for the first time.

"That's better," Mr. Wright responded. "Paul - Paula. I think there was a musical duo by that name back when I was a child. Anyway, it was very nice that I was a factor in your decision. Since you've been so candid with me, I feel the need to reciprocate and tell you something as well."

"Oh, go right ahead." Paula said, raising her glass to her lips before pausing. "I know you aren't going to tell me that I was your greatest student."

"No, although you were quite good," Mr. Wright said. "What I was going to say was that I had taught thousands of young women over the years. Brilliant ones and dullards. Beautiful ones and some not so attractive. Young women that had practically thrown themselves at me as well."

"Oh really?" Paula said, trying to remember some of the likely suspects from her class.

"Oh yes, most definitely, for whatever reason. Probably to get a better grade."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Paula said. "You're a very striking man."

"Thank you dear," Mr. Wright said. "Well, out of all of those young ladies, you were the only one I ever wanted to sleep with."

The clatter that arose from Paula setting her empty wine glass down abruptly on her fork, and the resulting domino effect of salt shakers crashing down on plates, caused little reaction in the almost deserted dining room, but made Paula blush.

"Sorry," Paula said as she tried to restore order to the table.

"Never mind that," Paul said, and asked Paula if she would like more wine, and Paula shook her head violently no in response.

"I certainly didn't mean to upset you Paula," Paul continued. 

"It's alright Mr. Wr..."

"I figured you must have been aware of it back then. I'm sure half the class must have had an idea that there was something going on between us. Tried to keep it under wraps as best I could, but I'm not sure how well I did."

"Why me?" Paula said, her face gaining color as she tried to maintain some composure. "I was so ordinary, and there were girls in that class who were absolute knockouts."

"Boring," Mr. Wright said. "At least they were to me. They were all trying so hard to show everything they had. Wearing next to nothing and flaunting themselves shamelessly. You were different."

"I hardly think so."

"First day you showed up in my class you caught my eye. A slender and shapely young lass dressed in a white long sleeved blouse with black slacks. You sat way in the back of the room. Do you remember where you sat after that first day?"

"Front row," Paula said softly. "You said you wanted to arrange the class so that..."

"Rubbish," Mr. Wright replied, his hand going back onto Paula's forearm as it sat on the table. "I made up some excuse so that you would end up right in front of me. You had shoulder length strawberry blonde hair, a little longer than now but about the same shade."

"Fresh from the bottle," Paula said nervously.

"I know," Mr. Wright said casually. "I remember that one day when you came to class wearing a white and grey checked skirt. First time I had seen your legs, it was. A little on the slender side but very shapely. You were wearing lacy white socks that came up just over your ankles."

"I remember that skirt," Paula said slowly.

"Not as well as I do, I'm sure," Mr. Wright countered. "My eyes traveled up those shapely legs, to those soft pale thighs and then something caught my eye. You were wearing white panties... very white. It was the combination of it being a sunny day outside, those bright white panties and your pale skin that allowed me to see the hair that sprouted out from the sides of your panties. Golden brown hair that had escaped the elastic of your undies and was exposed for me to enjoy."

Paula jumped in the seat as if she had been poked with a cattle prod. Mr. Wright's hand on her arm was the only thing keeping Paula in her seat, or so it seemed to her. Beneath his touch, her arm had become a sea of goose bumps, and the soft pale down on her forearms stood up straight at a result.

"I... I... didn't..."

"I know you weren't aware. That's what made it so special. There you were, and innocent young thing of - what- 17?"

"18, just turned" Paula squeaked.

"18 then. There you were, so studiously trying to comprehend my boring lecture on the Moors, and blissfully unaware that I was looking at the hair between your legs. I spent the rest of the day - the year - hell, the rest of my life trying to imagine what you looked like under those panties. All that hair on such a delicate little flower."

Mr. Wright handed the panicked woman his glass of water, as Paula looked ready to faint, and she grabbed it eagerly and gulped it down. Her face was beet red from embarrassment, and Paul's voice went even lower than before as it went on.

"Hope you're not ashamed at what I've told you. About your pussy hair that is," Paul said, watching Paula's face become even more shocked at his using such a coarse term.

"Fact is, I'm very attracted to women with a bit of hair down there. Very very attracted. The more the better. Nothing to be ashamed of at all. I'll bet your husband doesn't mind it, does he?"

Paula shook her head no, not knowing what to say. The conversation had taken such a violent and unexpected turn that she was rendered speechless, and Paula wondered where it was headed.

"No, I'll bet he doesn't mind the hair at all. Not one bit. Maybe we're kindred souls, the two of us. Probably a lot of the women who send him pictures have a lot of pussy hair themselves. The lonely boy is probably "studying" them right now as we speak." 

"I studied you Paula, after that day. Waiting for another chance to look up between your legs. Hoping against hope that you would wear that skirt again, only without panties the next time. Wondering whether your pussy hair was as soft as it appeared to be, or whether it was a bit coarse. Trying to guess whether it grew up near your navel, and deep down between your legs right down to your anus."

Paula's body was dripping sweat despite the coolness of the room, and she wanted to jump up and run out of the room. Back to her room. Back home. Back to her husband. 

She stayed.

"Winter came and went, and as the weather grew warmer the clothes got skimpier. I longed for you to come into class bra-less, so I could get a look at those pert breasts of yours."

"Not much there, I'm afraid," Paula chirped in a faux-carefree tone. "What's there has become a victim of gravity."

"I peeked whenever the opportunity arose. Savoring the rare glimpses of your delicate cleavage and trying to catch you at a moment that exposed you more. Toward the end of the term you started wearing sleeveless blouses, and I hoped in vain that you were one of those girls that let the hair under your arms grow, as that would have driven me mad."

"You weren't, of course," Mr. Wright continued. "That was alright however, because your arms were just spectacular as they were. The skin so golden, toned and firm, with just a hint of muscularity at the bicep. On days when your arms were bare I made up reasons for the class to raise their hands so I could look under your arm as you raised your hand high."

Paula swallowed hard as Professor Wright continued, her deep voice calm and measured as he continued his graphic description of her.

"Your armpits were exquisite. Petite little hollows with skin a little paler that the rest of your arm, sometimes glistening with a faint coat of perspiration. Usually looking as smooth as silk, but occasionally coated with just a hint of stubble. I wondered what it would feel like to have my tongue sliding through your armpit on one of those days, feeling the fuzz..."

"Will there be anything else?" a voice asked from their side. The waiter, apparently wanting to call it a night, came at a time when Paula was ready to faint, or cry, or - who knows what?

"That will be all," Paul said calmly and handed his man his credit card after waving away Paula's move toward her purse.

"My treat," Paul said. "Besides, what else does a lonely widower have to do with the money?"

"Well, it was a lovely dinner, and it was really great to see you again," Paula said as she rose off the clammy vinyl seat.

"Tomorrow night, then? " Paul said, although the question sounded more like a statement of fact.

"I don't know, because..."

"I don't have you in any of my classes tomorrow," Paul announced as they went to the elevator lobby. "Not until the next day."

"How do you know?"

"I know quite a lot," Paul said as he held the elevator door for her. "I pay attention to the things that really matter."

Paula pressed 3 and was relieved when Paul pressed 7, not knowing exactly what he had in mind.

"Your floor," Paul announced at the doors stayed open for a moment without Paula making a move toward them.

"Oh, right."

"Tomorrow night then," Paul reminded her, reaching over and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "I'll leave you a note with the particulars."

Paula nodded and headed unsteadily down the hall to her room. Closing and bolting the door behind her, she leaned back against it before throwing her stuff on the bed.

"Must call John!" Paula said aloud to herself, and when she did it took many rings before John answered, out of breath. He sounded winded and maybe a little miffed, like he'd been interrupted or something. 

Probably her imagination, Paula thought as they spoke briefly before saying good night, and got into her nightie and went to bed. Sleep would not come for her, even though she felt drained, so Paula got up and went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Lifting the nightie over her head, she was startled to see her reflection in the full length mirror behind the door,

Paula's eyes went to her breasts; the modest cones once so firm and perky that now drooped with the passing of time, her plump aureoles with their fat pink nipples seeming to drag them down even further. Not far enough to hide the faint stretch marks that gave away her motherhood, she noted sadly, and although Paula knew in her heart they were barely visible they stood out to her like they glowed.

"If Mr. Wright could see this mess..." Paula mumbled to herself as she looked at her image. Her eyes strayed to the dense jungle of hair that surrounded her womanhood, even spreading slightly over to the insides of her thighs.

Funny how Mr. Wright had been looking at her like that back then and she hadn't even noticed, Paula mused as she stepped into the shower and let the warm spray wash some of the tension away. Undressing her with his eyes, so to speak.

It was also curious that Mr. Wright sounded so much like John did when he described her pubic hair. She certainly did attract men with similar tastes. Paula had always felt cursed by the unruly mat of hair that covered the area between her legs, and now it seemed that it was her most treasured asset.

As the shower rained down on Paula, her hands strayed to that furry delta, and before long she was leaning against the wall of the shower as her orgasm washed over her, making her knees weak as she shook.


Paula's Retreat



As she came, she was imagining John was the one with his fingers inside of her. At least that was the way she remembered it later as sleep finally came to her.

...............

Tuesday.

It was a very productive day at the conference for Paula on Tuesday. She had spent the majority of the morning trying to avoid Paul Wright, hoping to be able to fend off any dinner invitations he would be offering, and had succeeded completely, not even getting a glimpse of him for the morning sessions.

By mid-day, Paula had stopped making any effort to avoid her mentor, knowing that it was inevitable that they would run into each other again over the next few days, but she did not see him at all.

Come the end of the day's sessions, Paula was shocked to find herself actively looking for Mr. Wright, and was actually disappointed when she did not find him. As Paula took the elevator up to her room she shook her head at the reflection in the mirror. 

"What was getting into me?" Paula wondered aloud as the elevator doors opened on the third floor. Good thing she hadn't seen him, because the way her mind was working she might actually accepted a dinner invitation from him. Remembering the way the conversation had gone at the end of the previous evening, it was just as well that she kept to herself anyway.

Paula was just trying to decide whether to step out for a bite to eat or just grab a snack from a vending machine, when a sharp knock on the door startled her. It was a young man from the hotel staff with a package for her.

Paula thanked the boy and brought it over to the bed, curious as to where it came from, since there were no identifying marking on it besides her name. Paula Watson. Not Paula Dean, which had been her name for the last 18 years of married life.

Inside the box was a note sitting on top of a beautiful white dress. Holding the dress up in front of herself, she was startled to see that it was her size precisely, and she could tell by the touch of the fabric that this was a very expensive dress. Something she thought she could never afford, and a glance at the tiny price tag affixed to the label confirmed that suspicion.

Also something she could never wear either, as Paula looked at the low V-neck of the garment, which would reveal way too much of her shortcomings. The spaghetti shoulder straps would make wearing a bra impossible as well. As for the sides of the dress, they were wide open, with laces holding the sides of the dress together. Way too revealing for a woman with her body and pushing 40 besides.

The note inside was very brief and to the point.

Dearest Paula,

Something to wear for dinner tonight. Room 709 at seven. Looking forward to seeing you.

Paul

"Fat chance," Paula said aloud, tossing the note onto the bed and heading to the bathroom. The dress could go back into the box and go up to Room 709 by itself. The very thought of going up there wearing that dress sent a shiver of fear down her spine.

***

At 6:58 Paula gave herself a last glance in the mirror before heading out the door. The dress was way too revealing, so Paula had put a sweater on over it, and even with that on Paula felt half naked.

The virtually wide open sides of the dress revealed the profiles of her breasts, and the low and spacious front showed the rest of them. Not that it mattered, because the dress was so sheer you could practically see right through it anyway. No way she would let herself be seen in public like that, and Paula was doubly glad for the sweater when she got on the elevator and there were people on it, and pulled the sweater around her tightly until she got off on 7.

701... 702... 703...

Paula walked down the hall like she was going to her own execution. Still time to turn around and go back to her own room, she thought. 

706. Still walking. The door were farther apart on this floor, giving Paula more time to think. More time to reconsider what she was doing. What was she doing?

"Just going to dinner," Paula said softly to no one, as she stood outside Room 709. That was all it was. Mr. Wright was nice enough to buy the dress, and so Paula felt obligated to wear it. Left the price tag on it too, because then he could take it back afterward, when he found out that whatever he had in mind, it wasn't going to happen.

"Ah Paula! Come in!"

Mr. Wright opened the door just as Paula reached up to knock, and he chuckled when he saw the sweater that Paula had clutched around herself.

"Just as I suspected," Paul said. "Modest as ever. Here, let's take this off of you so you can relax."

Paula watched Mr. Wright come around her and pull the sweater off of her, with only minimal resistance. Now she was virtually naked, and Mr. Wright was all eyes as Paula stood there trembling.

"Simply beautiful," he said. "Guessed at the size, and I might have gotten it right too. Come over to the bar and let's have a drink."

Paula was led over to the bar which was in the corner of the room, which did not resemble her room in the least. This was a suite, and a beautiful one at that. At least there was no bed in sight, Paula thought to herself, as Mr. Wright handed her a cocktail.

"Incredible room," Paula said as she looked around. "Nothing like mine."

"Ah, what else do I have to spend my money on these days? A widow with no children and no real expenses?" Might as well live it up. Besides, it's better for entertaining. No bed sitting there in the middle to scare a woman off."

Paula choked a little on her drink as she heard her thoughts come out of Mr. Wright's mouth. The sight of her reflection in the mirror was another thing all together. You could really see right through the dress in this light, and the outline of her plump nipples were clearly visible.

Without a bra, her sad little boobies just hung there unsupported. What did they used to call breasts like hers had become? Banana boobs? Funny. Funny until they become yours, she supposed.

As for down below, Paula was happy that she had the sense to wear panties despite the fact that the dress was not designed for them. Even with the panties on, Paula thought that you could still see the brown shadow of what spilled out of the undies, and tried to keep herself hidden from Mr. Wright's eyes, which had no left her for a second.

"The dress... it's beautiful," Paula finally said. "You shouldn't have. It was so expensive."

"Seeing Paula Watson in it was worth it," Mr. Wright said.

"Dean," Paula said softly.

"Pardon?"

"My name. Paula Dean," she managed. "Haven't been Watson in quite a while."

"Oh yes, of course! My mistake," Mr. Wright answered. "Paula Dean. Guess in my mind you'll always be Paula Watson though, but I will try to remember."

A knock at the door made Paula jump, and Mr. Wright moved away, scooping up Paula's sweater as he went away in the opposite direction of the door.

"That's dinner, most likely," Mr. Wright said as he went into the hall. "Be a dear and get that, would you Paula?"

Paula walked slowly to the door, as the knock was repeated. Why did he take the sweater away with him? She was practically naked as she peeked around the door.

"Room service!"

The chipper young fellow that had brought her the package earlier was pushing a small cart past her as the door opened. The boy gave her a double take as he entered the room and began setting things up.

Paula stood there awkwardly as the boy tried to stare at her while setting the table, and when Paula looked down she saw that her taut nipples were threatening to tear right through the fabric under the gaze of the young man. Had her nipples ever been so stiff before? So throbbing? Not in a long time.

Paula looked over to the side, and saw that Paul had been watching the two of them, and probably had been for the entire time. Probably enjoying her discomfort too, Paula figured, as she tried to casually cross her arms across her chest while the boy did his job with half of his attention.

Professor Wright came over and signed for the meal, and judging by the startled look on the lad's face, must have given him a tip out of proportion to the job he had done. The kid left the room and Paul latched the door behind him, the soft click resounding in Paula's ears like a dungeon door slamming shut.

"Come Paula, let's eat," he said, putting his hand around Paula's shoulder as he escorted her over to the little table, which had a couple of covered dishes and a bottle of wine opened and resting in a holder.

"Hope you like filet mignon," Paul said as he helped Paula into the chair and lifting the lid off of her plate before pouring the wine and sitting across from her at the little dinette.

"It's fine - very nice," Paula said as she cut into the tender meat, grateful for the chance to change the subject from herself, and they ate quietly, exchanging shop and weather talk sporadically throughout the meal. 

Paula enjoyed the meal despite herself, savoring the chance to eat something so delicious that seldom fit into the modest Dean family budget, and as she polished off the chocolate mousse Paula proclaimed it a fine meal as she tossed the napkin onto the table.

"Yes, surprisingly good, all things considered," Paul said as he excused himself and walked around the corner.

Paula began tidying up the table in his absence, much like she would at home. She filled the glasses with the remaining wine as Paul came back around the corner.

"No need to do that, Paula," Professor Wright said with a chuckle. "Sit over on the sofa and relax."

"Old habits die hard," Paula said, realizing how silly it was for her to be doing housekeeping for the hotel, and took her wine over to the sofa.

Paula sat down on the plush love seat, and looked over at Professor Wright for the first time since he had returned. Paula's heart skipped a couple beats as she saw that he had changed from the suit and tie he had been wearing, and was now clad in satiny pajamas a deep mahogany in color, with matching slippers.

"Thought I'd get a little more comfortable," Professor Wright said, sitting at the matching love seat across from Paula. "Hope you don't mind."

Paula made a gurgling sound that was unintelligible, and was grateful that at least he hadn't sat next to her. The tiny coffee table that was between them comforted her as well, and she tried to make her hand stop shaking as she reached over and put her glass on the coaster.

"More wine?" Professor Wright asked. "No trouble getting another bottle."

"No - thank you," Paula said. "Big day tomorrow."

"Let's not worry about tomorrow," Paul said. "The night is still young, you know."

Paula sat there nervously, trying not to look at her mentor's eyes, which seemed to have some kind of control over her. Why else would she be in this room with him? On top of that, wearing a dress that left little to the imagination? 

Paula's eyes strayed to Professor Wright's slipper, as he had just put his foot up on top of his knee. The pajama leg slid up a little as he did, exposing the skin on his lower leg, a leg covered with dark brown hair. Paula looked away for something else to fixate on, but Professor's Wright's voice got her attention.

"Just like old times," he said softly.

Paula started to ask him what he meant by that, since she had never been in a hotel room drinking wine with anybody, much less him, but then she saw the look on his face, and the direction his was looking at.

"Sorry," Paula mumbled, slapping her legs together as she saw that Paul had been staring up her dress.

"I was afraid that you had followed the current trend and had taken to defacing that glorious forest you have between your legs," Paul said as he rose and moved over to where Paula was sitting. 

"It's quite clear that you haven't, and I'm so glad of that," he said as he slid next to Paula on the love seat. "In fact, unless my eyes are failing me, it seems that your bush has gotten even fuller than it was back at school. So nice of you to wear the white panties again too, dear Paula." 

Paul jumped as Paul's big hand slowly came down on Paula's thigh.

"I'd better be going," Paula said.

"As you wish," Paul said, surprising her.

Paul's hand slid lightly up and down Paula's thigh, the faint down generously sprinkled on them easing the hand's travels.

Paula's eyes were like that of a deer suddenly caught in a car's headlights, her body unable or unwillingly to do what her mind was telling it too. Jump up! Walk out the door and don't come back!

"What is it you want?" Paula's voice squeaked. "I'm a married woman."

"I know, Paul said, his hand continuing to gently rub while his eyes were locked onto Paula's. "Your husband is a married man, and is home pulling on his cock while he looks at pictures of other women. Women who couldn't hold a candle to you."

"And you're a married woman," Professor Wright continued as his hand slid higher. "You're a married woman wearing a transparent dress with a hand sliding up your leg. Earlier, you had a kid so shook up by your beauty that he was creaming in his slacks just looking at you, and you have me half out of my mind with lust for you."

"I can't - I've never been with another man before. Not ever."

"How exciting that is to me," Professor Wright said, his hand sliding up under the hem of her dress. "To never feel the touch of anyone but your husband - to never make love to anyone but him all your life. Aren't you curious? Aroused?"

"What is it you want from me. Paul?" Paula pleaded.

"Tonight? Tonight I just want to look at you. Touch you. Let me..."

Professor's Wright's hand left her thigh and came up to her shoulder, gently grasping the thin strap of the dress and pulling it down off of her. He repeated that action with the other strap, while Paula stood frozen and allowed it.

The front of the dress fell down abruptly, as Paula's arm came up across her chest as her breasts were briefly exposed.

"You have such beautiful arms, Paula" Professor Wright said as his hand stroked her forearm tenderly. "But that's not what I want to see."

His hand pulled Paula's arm away from her breasts, and Paula looked down in shame as she was naked from the waist up.

"Your breasts are lovely," Professor Wright said, and as Paula looked down she saw her little orb disappear inside of his beefy hand. "Sensitive too, I'll bet."

He kneaded Paula's pliant breast, softly at first and then getting rougher, kneading and pulling at her spongy teat. Her nipples popped out under this intense fondling, and she found herself grinding into his grasp instead of pulling away, as his other hand began the same treatment of her other breast.

"My wife was very busty, but over the years I've been quite attracted to small breasted ladies like yourself," Paul confessed. "Something about being able to hold the entire bud in one's hand that I find very erotic."

Paula looked down at the way he was kneading them, and was stunned at how good his rough handling made them feel, even when he was twisting and milking the plump aureolas.

"I want - need to see more," Professor Wright said. "You know what I want to see. Take off your panties. I have to see your pussy."

"I can't!" Paula insisted, but it sounded less like a statement than a plea, and she scrambled to her feet and pulled the dress up to cover herself from Paul's persistent glare.

"Nothing I haven't seen before, you know," Paul said, and as he spoke he reached over and pulled a folder out of his briefcase. "Here Paula, I'd like you to take a look at this. Won't take but a minute."

Paula stood next to her mentor as he held up a photo. 

"Sit down dear," Professor Wright said softly. "I just want you to look at some of these photographs."

Paula sat down carefully, deliberately not touching his leg as she eased down into the chair. The photo was of an attractive middle-aged woman. She was naked, except for a pair of sunglasses, and while she was a very busty woman, the camera was focused on the rich triangle of black hair that framed her womanhood.

"What say you?" Paul asked, looking for a reaction and finding one of shock on Paula's face.

"Well, she's quite attractive," Paula replied, not knowing what else to say.

"Quite," Paul said with a look of pride on his face. "It's my wife, bless her soul. Took these many many years ago. Always thought she had quite a lot of hair between her legs. What do you think?"

"I guess - I mean, I don't really know," Paula stammered.

"Now, take this woman here," Paul continued, showing her another picture. "Sorry about the quality. I took it off my computer. A gent sent it to me. He was quite proud of how hairy his wife was."

Paula glanced briefly at a woman who seemed to be just as hairy as she was, before Professor Wright took the photo away.

"Now I feel rather silly, looking at pictures of woman when I have such a magnificent example of the gender so close I can touch you - and smell you."

Paula felt helpless to resist as Paul slipped his hand under her dress and tugged the panties off of her, and the garment fell off of her as she rose and knelt on the cushion next to Paul.

"Incredible," he whispered as he looked between Paula's legs at the dense auburn triangle that covered her womanhood and even spilled over onto the insides of her thighs a bit. 

Paula's entire body was shaking as she felt his hand touch her pubic hair, and she parted her thighs as his hand pried them apart, continuing to glide through the thick mat that extended down deep into her crotch.

"So soft," Paul grunted as he contorted his body. "Never touched a pussy so hairy before. Dear me, you're even more beautiful than I've always pictured you."

"You're wet too," he added, as his finger slid along the lips of her pussy, causing Paula to lose her balance and fall into him.

"Please..." 

Paula said the word, but if her mentor had heard it he likely didn't know what it meant. Please what? Stop? Judging by Paula's reactions to his touch it certainly didn't seem so.

"I love the way your pussy hair grows so thickly way down between your legs - all the way to your anus, or so it seems," Paul said as his hand probed deeper down between her legs before sliding back up.

Suddenly, Paula gasped as she felt Paul's thumb sliding between her labia. Paula let out a long and tortured moan as Professor Wright's thumb went inside of her ever so slowly. Paula was swiveling as it went deeper and deeper inside of her, feeling almost like a cock as he skewered her with the entire length of his thumb before pulling it back out just as slowly.

Paula tried to clamp her legs together to keep it inside of her, and so Paul repeated the process, causing Paula to lurch and shake again. Her entire body was convulsing as Paul began to thrust his thumb into her at a more rapid pace.

He soon realized that Paula was riding his thumb and so he stopped moving his hand and simply let her use it as she wished. His index finger came up under Paula and began gently stroking her anus, which caused her to begin bucking wildly.

Paul leaned forward and began sucking on Paula's breasts, which were flopping around as she humped his hand. Paul bit and sucked roughly on the loosely dangling tits, almost managing to get the entire orb in his mouth in his passion.

With his free hand, Paul held Paula steady with his hand cupped under her arm. As Paula moved he felt the moist fuzz of her armpit rubbing against his fingers, and the faint floral aroma filled the air.

Paula began yelping loudly, clawing at him as he felt her pussy contract onto his thumb violently, again and again, and he felt Paula's hot juices splashed over his hand and wrist as she came, her body drenched with sweat as she finally collapsed against the back of the sofa, with Paul's thumb still embedded deep inside of her.




Paula's Retreat



Professor looked at the disheveled woman who knelt next to him as if in a trance, her glazed expression only changing when he slowly extracted his thumb from her pussy, and the gasp she let out as it exited was followed by her petite form shaking one last time.

"Oh!" Paula said as she looked down at the cushion of the love seat, which had a massive wet spot below where she had been kneeling and contorting.

"You came so beautifully," Paul said as he brought his hand up to his face, letting his tongue sample the juices that covered his hand.

"I should - I have to," Paula said as she reached around in search of her dress.

"Not leaving yet, are you dear?" Paul said, as he inched up against her.

"Professor..."

"Paul," he corrected her gently. "I found that very arousing."

Paul grabbed her hand and slowly brought it down to his crotch.

"Surely you won't leave me in such a distressed condition, Paula," the professor said, pulling Paula's hand closer despite her resistance.

"Please," Paula said, even as her hand was being brought through the opening of his pajamas, and her fingers felt like they were being placed in an oven.

"Take it out," the professor said in a soft yet commanding tone, his meaty hand gripping Paula's forearm tightly. "Take hold of my cock and take it out."

The room began swimming around Paula as she looked around the room, almost as if searching for an escape. Paula's fingertips made contact with Professor Wright's pubic hair, and that slight touch made her jerk her hand back abruptly.

"Look at what you're doing dear," his deep voice instructed. "You might find it easier." 

Paula's eyes looked down for the first time at the professor's crotch, with her hand held firmly at the fly opening. The rich brown pajama bottom had a very obvious bulge on the inside of his left thigh, and although Paula tried to avert her eyes, she couldn't. And when he pulled her hand toward it again, she found herself weaken.

"That's my girl," Professor Wright said, letting her hand go.

Reaching up, he unsnapped the pajamas, a satisfied grunt accompanying his satisfaction at watching Paula's hand sliding deep inside. Paula's eyes were bulging as her fingers grasped his cock - another man's cock - for the first time.

Professor Wright lifted himself off the couch slightly, tugging his bottoms down, which allowed Paula to free his manhood from the satin confinement.

His cock sprang up in full erection, and Professor Wright savored the look on Paula's face as she looked down at the tool her hand held loosely. Her fingers only reached halfway around the shaft, and he could tell that this was something more than she was used to holding.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it Paula dear?"

Paula's fingers were trembling as she held his cock gingerly. She couldn't believe this was happening to her, and that she was letting it happen was the most unbelievable part of it all.

"You act like you've never seen a penis before," Professor Wright noted. "Surely you've held your husband's many times, and obviously you know what to do with one. What's the matter dear?"

Paula tried to speak, but her voice cracked as she did, mesmerized by the huge organ in her grasp. It was hot and swelling even larger as she held it. Out of a tuft of salt and pepper colored pubic hair, the beige shaft was impossibly thick at the base, and although it tapered slightly where her fingers were, her hand couldn't get close to circling it.

"What's that my dear?" the professor asked in an amused tone. He had been able to make out what she said, but longed to hear it again.

"Your penis... it's so large," Paula gasped after clearing her throat, stunned at the size of the organ she held gingerly in her palm.

"I'm bigger than your husband - what was his name again - Jeff?" Professor Wright asked, and enjoyed Paula's wide-eyed nod as her gaze never left his cock.

"John," Paula said numbly.

Paula felt shame when he brought up John, and the fact that she was talking about his private parts made the guilt even worse. Still and all, Professor Wright's cock was huge. It had to be almost twice the size of her husband's in both length and girth, and Paula recalled that there were times when she wished even his was smaller. What would a woman do with this monstrosity?

"Doesn't much matter about things like that," Professor Wright noted dryly. "The size that is. I'm sure your husband does just fine with what he has. If you're yanking away under the computer table, size truly doesn't matter, does it? Why don't you just move your hand up and down a little bit, Paula? Peel the foreskin down and just pull on it a bit."

Paula found herself doing what she was told, her fist going down the shaft, the foreskin peeling down and exposing the pink-hued head, which was the size of a plum.

"Is your husband circumsized?" Paul asked, and watched Paula nod affirmatively as she stared at the movement of the foreskin. "Most men are. I think it gives it a more imposing look like this, though. What say you, dear?"

Paula didn't answer, but instead just kept slowly masturbating him, treating his manhood like something alien.

"Ahhhh!" Professor Wright exhaled as Paula kept moving her hand up and down his tool. "That's it my dear. Squeeze it tighter as you milk it. Make me big and hard like a good little girl."

To Paula's shock, the professor's manhood was actually getting bigger as she jerked him off. Now the winding veins were bulging along the shaft. How much bigger could his thing get?

From beneath the sofa cushion, Professor Wright pulled out a small bottle of baby oil and squirted some on his tool, causing Paula's fingers to slide up and down much faster and smoother.

"Here dear, why don't you use both hands?" Professor suggested, and took her wrist and pulled it over to join her other hand.

Now Paula found herself kneeling next to him, leaning over and working both fists up and down Professor Wright's throbbing cock. The hands of the professor began exploring Paula's body; pulling and stretching Paula's hanging teats before sliding down her stomach.

His fingers raked through the dense bush between Paula's legs. The thick pelt was still wet, and possibly even wetter than it was before, and his digits slid inside her effortlessly, causing Paula to squirm as he found her clit.

Paula was now working her fists up and down his huge cock with vigor, hoping to get this over and done with. Maybe that was why, Paula thought to herself. Just trying to get it over with. Or was it that she was out of her mind with lust. What would she do if he wanted more? Would she? 

No. She couldn't and wouldn't. This was bad enough, what she was doing. Besides, the very thought of what this ungodly instrument would do to her, made her body shudder in horror. At least she thought it was horror she felt.

"I'll wager you're thinking about what my cock would feel like between your legs," Professor Wright said suddenly, almost as if he was reading her mind.

Paula bit her lip and kept watching her fists pump up and down the length of his manhood, now glistening with the lubricant and becoming a little pink from her efforts.

"Don't believe you," was the professor's response to Paula briskly shaking her head no. "I think you're curious about what it would feel like to have another man inside you. Another man sliding his cock between the lips of that hairy pussy of yours."

"No."

"Never thought about it? I don't believe it. I can see it in your eyes. What would it feel like to take something the size of me in your pussy?"

"I can't - I never," Paula protested, feeling trickles of perspiration sliding down her face and sides.

"Nonsense! You know you want it Paula, although I find the virginal and innocent approach most refreshing... don't stop dear," Professor Wright reminded her as she began to get distracted.

"Maybe it's not your pussy you want it in," he mused as Paula resumed jerking him off. "Perhaps you're considering other options - like maybe your asshole."

As he spoke, Professor Wright removed his finger from Paula's pussy and slid it to her anus. Paula yelped in surprise and shock as she felt his index finger penetrate her tender orifice.

"Oh my, that's a tight little asshole you have there," he commented while Paula tried to raise herself off of her finger. "Just relax Paula. I gather your hubby doesn't service you back there much, if ever."

"Please don't... it hurts," Paula whimpered, although she had stopped trying to get the finger out and was now letting him have his way.

"I gather then putting my cock in your ass is out of the question," the professor concluded. "I thought that perhaps you would feel less guilty about me taking you that way."

"No... please. It's too big... I can't... I'm married!"

"Well, I'm beginning to bubble over, so to speak," Professor Wright said, nodding toward his member and the pre-cum that was oozing out of the tip of his crown. "Can't be making a mess here."

With that, Professor Wright got up from the couch, his pajama bottoms sliding down to the floor, and stood there waiting, his cock swaying around obscenely in front of him. He grabbed Paula's shoulder and pulled her up to her feet briefly before easing her back down.

"You know what I want," he said as Paula's knees hit the carpet. "Open wide."

Grabbing the back of Paula's head, he pulled her face toward his swollen cock. When Paula tried to turn her head away, the professor grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her face forward. Pressing her crown against her mouth, he gruffly ordered her to open up and accept him.

"Just open your mouth," he said. "It won't take but a second."

Paula obediently opened her mouth as wide as she could, and the head of his dick filled her mouth. 

"Squeeze my balls - hard!" Professor Wright bellowed. "Harder!"

Paula's hand grabbed his furry sac and yanked on them as hard as she could while trying not to gag on the dick he was trying to stuff down her throat. The hand that that held the back of her head was vigorously moving her head up and down his cock while Paula tried not to choke. She couldn't get much more than the head of his tool into her mouth, but it was apparently enough.

It was mercifully brief. Paula heard him groan like a wounded animal, and then her throat was being hosed down with his seed. She choked helplessly as he emptied his load into her mouth, his cock spasming with every spurt.

Just when she thought it was over, Professor Wright covered her hand with his and kept her vigorously squeezing his balls. Another moan, and a couple more twitches of his member later, and another rope of semen lurched out of him and down her throat.

Still holding her hair in his hand, he roughly pulled her up and brought his mouth up to hers. His mouth covered hers, and he forced his tongue between her lips.

He wiggled his tongue around hers and, to her amazement, Paula found herself responding in kind, their tongues dancing around in her cum-filled mouth while he ground his body into her.

Just as fast as it had begun, it was over. He pulled up his pajama bottoms, kissed her again, and walked out of the suite's living room and into the bedroom.

Paula stood naked and in shock, watching him walk away. Pausing at the bedroom door, he turned and looked back at Paula.

"Tomorrow night Paula dear," he said with a smile. "You'll get what you really want tomorrow."

................

Wednesday.

Paula stood outside of Room 709 for the longest time, her hand raised but unable to knock on the door. Her weight shifted from foot to foot, legs wanting the turn and run but unable to make the first step. She knew it was going to be that way, despite her best intentions.

She had spent the entire day with Professor Wright, attending his seminars but not actually hearing what he was saying. His eyes were undressing her every minute, and Paula found her eyes traveling down to the professor's crotch, imagining the movement of his manhood in his pants as he walked around the front of the room.

He had placed her in the front row, so there was no avoiding looking at him, but that was no excuse for where her eyes focused on. The bulge now so obvious, yet how could she never have noticed? Still and all, after the seminar ended, she came up to Professor Wright to tell him what she had decided to do.

"Professor Wright," Paula began before he interrupted her.

"Paul."

"Professor Wright," Paula repeated. "I have something to tell you."

"Seven o' clock," the professor said calmly. "Looking forward to seeing you again."

"I won't be there," Paula said, repeating the speech that she had been rehearsing in her mind all day. "I'm not attending the last day of seminars tomorrow. I'm going home. I'm going home tonight to my family. I'm going to tell my husband what I did and beg him to forgive me."

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Paula."

"I have to," Paula insisted. "I don't know why I find myself powerless to resist you, or say no to you, but that's the way it is. That's why I'm not coming to your room tonight. In fact, I never want to see you again. I don't blame you. It's all my fault."

"There isn't any fault involved," Professor Wright said softly, nodding toward someone who passed behind Paula. "Tell me you didn't enjoy last night. Tell me you didn't find it exciting that someone could be so aroused by you."

"It's not that. I'm very flattered that you find me attractive, but I'm married. I've betrayed my husband enough. That's why I'm going home."

"All day long, whenever I would look at you, you were staring between my legs. So much like I was with you. Tell me I'm wrong," Paul asked as his hand gripped her shoulder. "Tell me you haven't spent the day thinking about what it would be like to fell my cock inside of that magnificent hairy pussy of yours."

"Can't," Paula said, shaking her head violently. "I won't." 

"Here," Professor Wright said, reaching into his briefcase and pulling out a manila folder, briefly checking inside before handing it to Paula. "Go to your room and read this. It won't take long. It's copies of e-mails I've been exchanging with a gentleman."

"I don't want to read other people's personal correspondence."

"I think you'll want to read these," he assured Paula. "Take them to your room and read them, especially if you're serious about going home tonight. That wouldn't be a good idea. Not good at all. See you later, dear."

Paula watched him walk away, and waited until he was out of sight before heading for the elevator herself. She was determined to pack her things as soon as she got up to her room, and would leave this folder with the front desk to give to Professor Wright.

She had no intention of reading the contents of the folder, but something caught her eye when she set the folder on her bed back in her room. That picture again - the one he had showed her in the room. The woman with the jungle between her legs.

Underneath it was another picture of the woman, even more graphic than the other, and beneath that was an e-mail sent to a "MisterChips" from someone called "Madaboutpussy". How childish, Paula thought to herself as she began reading...

Dear MisterChips,

Thanks for the pictures of your wife, which I certainly put to good use, if you know what I mean - LOL! She's what I call a real woman. Love those big jugs of hers. Wish my wife had a pair like that. 

Unfortunately, as these pictures will attest to, my wife's tits are a bit a the tiny side, to say the least. The other night when we fucked I was thinking about your wife and those big jugs of hers when I came, and I sure would love to have a go at your missus.

My wife does have a big bush on her though, which is what you say you like as much as I do. She's about as hairy as they come. Some of these pictures are a few years old, and the other ones are from last weekend. We went out on the town and she had a bit too much to drink. Rather than asking her to pose for these, I posed her myself after she fell asleep. Hope you like them. Let me know what you think.

Regards, Madaboutpussy

This guy must be a repulsive creature, Paula thought to herself. Imagine the idea of taking pictures of your wife and sending them to somebody like that without her knowledge, not to mention the horrible way he spoke about her.

Paula had to look, of course. Curiosity more than anything else. It didn't require much effort, since there were a series of pictures right beneath the e-mail.

"No!" Paula cried out as she looked at the first picture, and for a second she feared she would pass out.

There was a woman on a bed, stark naked. Her legs were spread wide open, exposing her fully to the camera's eye. Her pussy was indeed as hairy as he had advertised, and the photo was so clear you could count the hairs. So sharp that you could see the woman's face as it lay unconscious on her pillow, and behind it you could make out the photo of the woman on the night table, posed with her husband and their children.

Paula's husband. Paula's children. Paula's bed. Paula's pussy. 

She barely made it to the toilet before getting sick, and she stayed in the bathroom until her stomach stopped churning. On shaky legs she finally went back to the bed and picked up where she left off.

The photos were all brutally graphic shots of a woman passed out and posed in many vulgar ways. She remembered the night they must have been taken. John had taken her out to dinner and they had enjoyed a couple of bottles of wine. She didn't remember much after they had gotten home, but the pictures gave a good account of what had gone on.

Paula read all of the roughly 30 e-mails, which John had apparently exchanged with Professor Wright over the last six months or so. It was fairly easy to piece the scenario together, and Paula shivered as she thought about how many people had seen her naked.

John had apparently posted pictures of her on some porn site that shared photos, and Professor Wright had made favorable comments on them. From there, they exchanged more photos; Professor Wright providing pictures of his late wife and John of her when she was asleep or other candid photos when she wasn't aware.

Professor Wright had obviously recognized her from the pictures, because they showed her entire face with nothing obscured, unlike the one Paul sent back which had his wife in shades or otherwise blurred to make her unrecognizable.

The last e-mail was flagged by Professor Wright, and as she read it, Paula found out why.

Dear MisterChips,

It's finally time! I've been waiting for this for a long time. My wife is off to a teacher's conference and my daughters are old enough to be left alone, so I'm going to meet this woman at a motel nearby.

Since you won't let me have a go at your lovely wife, I've got the next best thing. She's a hot looking older woman with big tits, and I'm going to fuck her brains out. Been quite a few years since I've fucked around, and even longer since I've gotten to grab some real tits too.

I'll let you know what happens,

Madaboutpussy

Paula dialed her home phone number, hoping - praying to hear John answer the phone. Longing to hear his reassuring voice, she wanted him to tell her that this was all rubbish. Something easily explained. A case of exceptional photo shop work and forgery. Please.

"Hi Mum!" her daughter's voice chirped on the other end.

They were fine. They were getting along swell. Where's Dad? He's been working late all week. Matter of fact, they've hardly seen him the past few days.

Not to worry though. All was well and they couldn't wait to see her back home. When was it she was getting back?

"Tomorrow," Paula said, fighting to not sob into the phone. "I'll be home tomorrow."




Paula's Retreat



...

As Paula posed outside the door trying to make a decision, the door opened up, and Professor Wright stood in the doorway. He had a solemn look on his face, and as he stared at Paula, she found it difficult to meet his gaze.

"Hello Paula," he said while his eyes swept down her body.

Paula was wearing the same dress she had worn the evening before, only tonight she was not wearing anything over it. Just as obvious to the professor, she was not wearing anything underneath it either.

"I can see your pussy hair right through that dress," he announced very loudly, and Paula winced when she saw that a man and woman had come down the hall and were right next to her when he made that vulgar observation. "Did you know that?"

Paula's lips moved, but her throat was so dry that no words found their way out. Professor Wright glanced over at the couple, which consisted of a gorgeous blonde and a muscular man carrying a large suitcase, and nodded, stepping aside so that they could enter.

"Want to come in, Paula?" he asked. 

"I don't understand," Paula said, but her feet brought her inside the room, where the man was unfolding a table from the case he had brought in.

"You will," Professor Wright said. "I'm so glad you came, my dear. I never doubted you would, especially after you read the materials I gave you. Tried to call your husband, I'd wager. Am I correct?"

Paula nodded, watching the couple working in the center of the room, and barely noticed him moving behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders briefly before letting them slide up and down her bare arms.

"What did he say to you?"

"You - you know he wasn't there," Paula said in a choked up voice.

"Out fucking his new play toy, right? Right?"

"Why are you doing this to me?" Paula sobbed.

"It's for your own good, my dear," he whispered in Paula's ear before turning his attention to the muscle-bound man who had finished setting up a long, narrow table and was waiting for further instructions. "Thank you. See you later."

The man nodded and left the room, leaving the blonde behind. She stood by the table, wearing a long black trench-coat and a smile. Professor Wright began to move Paula toward the woman, his hands pushing her gently in that direction.

"This is Paula," Professor Wright said by way of introduction. "She's the lucky person who will be receiving your massage skills this evening."

"Massage?" Paula said weakly.

"Nice to meet you, Paula," the blonde said, untying the belt which held the coat together. "I'm Chloe. Let's get more comfortable."

Without any hesitation, Chloe shed the trenchcoat, leaving her as naked as she came into the world. As the coat was set aside, Professor Wright felt Paula's body jump in surprise.

Chloe had a magnificent body; her breasts large, full and firm, her legs long and shapely, and the briefest patch of blonde fuzz guarding her prominent labia.

Paula stared at the young woman's voluptuous figure, feeling woefully inadequate compared to the girl who was biologically young enough to be her daughter, and jumped when she felt the professor unzipping her dress as Chloe reached them.

"Let's have a look at you then," Chloe said in a lilting voice while sliding the straps of Paula's dress off her shoulders, and as the straps came down, the dress did as well.

With her dress now on the floor, Paula was as naked as Chloe was, and Paula found herself cooperating by lifting her ankles when the girl was getting the dress out of the way. 

"You're quite pretty, Paula," the blonde chirped, smiling as Paula tried to cover herself with her hands, only to have her arms pulled down from behind.

Instead, Paula was powerless to resist when Chloe stood in front of her. The blonde was several inches taller than she, but their breasts were roughly the height, so that when the blonde moved forward, their nipples touched.

"Mmmmm - beautiful," Professor Wright grunted in Paula's ear, leaning over her shoulder to watch the women's nipples press into each other.

Although Paula's breasts were much smaller than Chloe's, their nipples were about the same size, and Paula looked down in shame as she felt her nipples blossom from the contact.

Paula saw the blonde nod toward Professor Wright, and she felt herself being led over to the massage table, guided by the strong hands of the man.

A good thing that he was doing the navigating, because Paula seemed incapable of standing up on her own, much less moving. Paula was assisted onto the table, which was covered in a soft fabric, and Professor Wright moved a seat over so that he was at the head of the table, facing Paula as she lay face down.

Paula jumped when she first felt Chloe's hands on her feet, but the professor had his hand on her shoulder, gently stroking her bare skin while the blonde began rubbing her feet and ankles. It was so relaxing, despite the situation, that Paula began to feel her body accept the gentle caresses.

As Chloe's hands slid up to her calves, and her fingers began to knead the backs of her legs, Paula felt a flush of embarrassment as she realized she hadn't shaved since she'd been here at the seminar, and the rough skin of her legs must be obvious to the woman massaging her.

Then again, she hadn't expected to have to, and certainly hadn't counted on anything like what was happening here either. Why was she here, and why was she allowing herself to be handled this way? Better still, what was John doing back home?

The hands were moving higher now, and the backs of her thighs were now being gently kneaded. It was so wrong, and yet it felt so good. When Paula raised her face up off the table, Professor Wright was just inches away, smiling and nodding.

"Feels wonderful, doesn't it Paula, my love?" he said softly, his eyes meeting hers briefly before looking down at what the masseuse was doing. "You look so lovely, Paula. You have this light down on the backs of your thighs, and with your skin so soft and oiled the hairs seem to sparkle."

"Wish I'd shaved," Paula said, not believing herself replying. "Didn't think to bring a razor on the trip."

"You look splendid as you are, dear. Besides, I'd hate to see you with a razor in your hands near any of your furry parts," Professor Wright said, and then twitched a bit when Paula's body jerked, her eyes opening wide.

"What's that, dear? Oh, she's having a go at your ass, isn't she?" he said, a smile filling his face as Paula's expression spoke volumes, and her body began squirming while the blonde's lubricated finger probed her anus. "Your husband - John - does he like to fuck you in the ass?"

Paula shook her head no, her body jerking around as if on strings while the blonde slid a second finger into her warm cavity, stretching the previously virgin territory with the two digits at once.

"Maybe he's fucking that girlfriend of his in the ass right now," he mused, seemingly enjoying the the grimace that came over Paula's face at the mention of his name. "Probably got her bent over with those big jugs hanging down, and has got his pecker way up inside her."

"Maybe I'll fuck that cute little ass of yours later," he muttered gutturally in Paula's ear. "Would you like that, my dear? Would you fancy having my cock buried in you to the hilt like that?"

"We'll see," he said, ignoring the horrified look on her face as that image crossed her mind. "We'll see. For now, just enjoy."

Chloe was now straddling Paula, her hands working on her back and shoulders. The smell of vanilla filled the air while the blonde writhed on Paula's ass, massaging and kneading away.

"If you'd like to disrobe, that's fine with me," Chloe said. "Must feel funny being the only one with clothes on."

"With all the real beauty in the room, it doesn't seem right, but since you've suggested it..."

Professor Wright was wearing the same robe as the night before, and when he stood up the front of it tented outwards obscenely. Tonight, when he undid the knot and let the robe fall, he was naked underneath.

"Omigod!" Paula heard the blonde gasp as his manhood was revealed, and bobbing in front of her eyes like this, it seemed even more massive than the night before.

Thick and rippled with veins along the taut skin of the shaft, it stood out proudly from his bear-like body, the crown still mostly shielded by the foreskin. The tip of the head was capped with a bead of pre-cum, and when he pulled the foreskin down, the bead grew larger.

"You're a lucky girl," Chloe said, her probing fingers starting to hurt Paula as she gaped at the bobbing cock swaying before them. "Your boy's got a huge one on him, and with you being such a tiny thing, I'll bet he does a number on you."

"We've never," Professor Wright said, sitting back down. "But we're going to, tonight. Right, Paula dear? Right after Chloe gets done with you."

"Well, in that case, let's roll her over."

The two of them rolled Paula over as effortlessly as you would a rag doll, so that she was now on her back, and the blonde resumed the massage once again at her feet and worked her way up. Her hands avoided all but the fringes of Paula's bush, and when she had gotten to Paula's tummy, Chloe got up on the table and straddled her once more.

"Chloe has very large breasts, doesn't she my dear?" Professor Wright asked, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered. "I'll bet her husband would like to see them. Wonder if they're real or not? What do you think, Paula?"

Paula shrugged, her hands reflexively covering her own as she watched the huge breasts of the blonde sway while she rubbed Paula's hips and stomach.

"No my dear," Professor Wright said, removing Paula's hands from her chest and pulling them back towards him. "Can't be having you hiding your little treasures like that. Hers aren't better than yours are, just different. Let Chloe feel how nice yours are."

Paula felt Chloe's hands on her breasts, squeezing and pulling at the tit flesh. With her own arms stretched back over her head, Paula's tiny cones just about disappeared, giving her a boyish appearance that contrasted starkly with the voluptuous woman sitting on top of her.

Professor Wright was enjoying the contrast himself, her face only inches away from her. He held Paula's hands back against the edge of the table with his body while his own hands gripped the sides of the table. The professor's thumbs pressed into the flesh of Paula's armpits, gently stroking the moist fuzz that covered the gently sloped hollows, while Chloe continued to massage her tits.

"Ever been with a woman?" the professor asked, and Paula shook her head no. "Bet you'd like to feel those breasts of hers, wouldn't you? Sure you would. I'm going to let your hands go, and when I do, I want you to reach up and do to her what she's doing to you."

"Now Paula," he whispered sharply when she hesitated, and Paula found herself once again following his instruction, her hands coming up and holding the only breasts she had even touched other than her own.

Chloe's breasts were heavy in her hands, and they overwhelmed her little paws as she tried to cup them. To Paula's shock, Chloe began grinding into her, her pussy spread open against her own. She was humping Paula, and Paula could feel the moistness of the blonde's sex against her own.

"Ohhh!" Chloe moaned after a minute of this, a period of time in which Paula felt herself not only allowing her to grind her pussy into her own, but was actually moving herself into her as well, trying to get herself to cum as the blonde had.

"That was so nice," Chloe finally said. "Did you cum too, love?"

"No, she didn't," Paula heard Professor Wright answer for her, as he rose to his feet, his cock swaying above her face, a long strand of seed hanging next to her cheek from the beet red tool. "I'll take care of that part of it."

"I'll bet you will," Chloe said with a wink. "Wouldn't mind being on the business end of that myself."

"Before you go, my dear, I wonder if you would mind... how can I say this?"

"Want me to get her off?"

"No, I was thinking more about you just getting her ready for me. Priming her up a bit?"

"Be glad to," the blonde said with a smile, and as Paula looked down, Chloe's hand slid between her legs.

"Do you need any lubricant?" Professor Wright asked.

"Goodness no," Chloe said, her index finger sliding between Paula's pussy lips effortlessly, making Paula gasp. "She's very wet already."

"Thought so," he said. "She's got quite a hairy pussy, doesn't my little Paula?"

"She does," Chloe said, moving her finger all the way inside of Paula. "The hair is so nice and thick - soft too. If I'm going to get her ready for you though, sir, I'm afraid one won't do.

Paula groaned as Chloe's middle finger joined the other, and she began to squirm as the blonde's slender fingers began to spin in her pussy, bringing a smile to the face of the woman fingering her.

"She's so tight, your girl here," Chloe said with a laugh. "She's got a vice for a pussy."

"I know," Professor Wright said, watching his cock drool on Paula's face as he watched. "I can't wait to fuck her."

"Better loosen her up some more then," Chloe suggested. "Here you go, love."

Paula cried out as Chloe's ring finger made it three, stretching her insides as she twisted them in and out of the tight opening. Chloe parted the thick bush with her free hand as she worked, enjoying the glazed look on Paula's face as she lay there with her mouth open.

"And the pinkie - now that one doesn't hardly count," Chloe remarked, letting the little finger join the others inside of her, and Paula's knees raised up a little bit, her legs quivering under the manipulations.

"You like that, Paula?" he asked, lowering his cock a little bit so that it got even closer to Paula's mouth, and then laughed as Paula's mouth lurched up to attempt to grab it.

"Think she wants it all, sir?"

"What say you, Paula dear?" Professor Wright asked. "Up to it?"

Paula looked up, dazed and confused, unable to comprehend what was going on.

"Make sure she doesn't orgasm," the professor said curtly, his eyes meeting Paula's before traveling back down to between Paula's legs. "Go ahead."

Chloe nodded, and after moving her fingers together as tightly as possible, slid all five digits into Paula's pussy. Although she couldn't get her entire hand into the tight opening, the five digits made quite an impression on Paula.

Paula cried out as Chloe began churning her hand inside of Paula's pussy. Paula bucked and thrashed on the table, her body lurching out of control. her hips started rising to meet Chloe's hand, and as she did, Chloe would promptly retract her hand. Time and time again, she brought Paula to the brink only to stop.

"Please!" Paula cried out, her eyes rolling back in her skull as she tried to get up of the table only to be held down by the two of them.

"You want to cum, don't you girl?" Chloe cackled.

"Please!" Paula begged, her face a beet red, and every vein in her neck and face clearly visible.

The prim and proper teacher had disappeared, replaced by a far more primal and animalistic woman who had been driven into a frenzy.

"That will do," Professor Wright said, letting go of Paula's shoulders, and Chloe calmly pulled her fingers out of Paula and stepped away from the table.

Paula raised herself up on one elbow as Professor Wright put his robe back on, his cock still standing out against the fabric. Chloe put her trench-coat back on, pulling her blonde locks out from underneath the collar, and smiled at Paula.

"Get up now, Paula dear," the professor instructed as he moved toward the door. "They need the table."

Paula eased herself off the table, her legs shaky and her body a sweaty and dripping mess. As the door swung open, she saw the muscular man that had accompanied Chloe enter. Without a word, he came over and began folding up the table, while Paula tried to cover herself with her hands.

"Bye love," Chloe said after taking an envelope from Professor Wright and putting it in her pocket. 

"As for you dear, have fun," Chloe said to her before putting her arms around her and kissing her. Numbly, Paula found herself returning the affection, tongues dancing as their lips devoured each other.

"Save some of that for your lover!" Chloe chirped as she pulled away from Paula and danced out the door.

"Fancy that!" Professor Wright proclaimed after closing the door behind them and moving towards Paula. "Little Paula Watson. Modest and meek little housewife all of a sudden likes to swap spit with a woman. You seem sorry to see her leave. Want me to get her back here? Bet she'd like to bury her face in that hairy pussy of yours, what say you?" 

"No," Paula said, her voice as trembling as her knees. "You."

"What about me?"

"Want you," Paula said, jumping into his arms as her hands tore at his robe.

Paula ground her body into his furry torso while her hand reached between his legs and seized his cock, jerking at it while she tried to climb on him while he stood.

"Now you know how I've felt for over twenty years," he said, grabbing a handful of Paula's hair before directing her into the bedroom of the suite.

The light was on when they entered the room, and Professor Wright left it on, not bothering to close the door behind them. Paula got pushed onto the bed rather roughly, and as she hit the bedding, Professor Wright was was already mounting her.

Her face flushed, he wasted no time and simply climbed between Paula's thighs with his cock in his hand. His tool ran up and down her wet pussy one time before he slowly penetrated her.

Paula cried out and she felt his manhood stretch her insides much like Chloe's hand had done earlier, only this time there seemed to be no end to it. His cock kept probing deeper and deeper into her, seeming to tear her wide open as he pressed forward.

By the time he felt his balls resting between her legs, Paula was crying out. Tearing at his arms and back, she tried to wrap her legs around the bear of a man while he grunted, her labia finally surrounding the base of his instrument.

The professor then extracted his cock in the same deliberate manner, and Paula found herself trying to keep rising with him as he did.

"Harder... please," Paula implored. "Fuck me!"

As she uttered that vulgarity, his eyes seemed to change, becoming dark and ominous looking. This time, when he slid his cock into her, it was not slow and easy. It was hard and forceful.

"Fuck you?" he spat at her. "You want to get fucked?"

"Please!" Paula begged, hanging on the edge of climax for so long it was almost as painful as his cock ripping her in two.

With that, Paul went into what seemed like a rage. He began humping Paula like an animal. Face red, her pounded into Paula without mercy. She came almost instantly, her pussy convulsing around his cock as she did. 

Professor Wright seemed to not notice, because he only thrust into her harder with every stroke. Paula was clutching his shoulders as she came again, hanging onto his sweaty body as she came, until she became to weak to hang on and fell back onto the bedding.

"Like getting fucked, Paula?" he snapped, his balls slapping her inner thighs with each deep probe.

"Yes," Paula said, her voice almost a whimper.

She had thought he had orgasmed when she did, but his hardness had not gone away, and neither did his relentless onslaught.

"You want me to cum, don't you?" 

"Yes," Paula said.

"I will," the professor said, still looking very feral and not slowing a bit. "Talk to me. I love hearing you swear. Tell me how it feels."

"Feels... good," Paula said as he knocked a little of the wind out of her with every thrust. 

"Does your husband fuck you like this?"

"No."

"You going to cum some more for me?"




Paula's Retreat



Paula's answer to that was a shudder, as a mild orgasm washed over her. After it ended, Paula felt like she had run a marathon. Her pussy ached and she was very light headed. She wanted to ask him to stop, but it felt so good - hurt so good - that she couldn't say it.

"Your pussy is so tight," he continued. "Your husband must not give it much attention. How many times do you two fuck a month?

"Once... twice," Paula grunted.

"Think he'll fuck his girlfriend more than that this week?" he said, not expecting or getting a response.

"Don't care," Paula said, and he was as shocked to her her say it as she was saying it.

"You like the way I'm fucking you, don't you Paula?" Professor Wright said, thrusting his cock into her even harder and faster than before. "You like being fucked like an animal. Like the animals we really are."

"Yes."

"You like my cock too, don't you? Better than your husband's isn't it?"

"Yes. So hard - so thick."

"You're going to like it later too," he continued. "You're going to like it when I fuck you in the ass with it."

"No," Paula said. "Please don't."

"Why not, Paula?"

"You know why... you're way too big."

"But you like my big cock," he snapped, his every movement raining sweat down on Paula like a monsoon. "And by that time, your pussy will be so sore you'll be begging me to fuck you in the ass with my cock."

Suddenly, he pulled himself out of his aching pussy and on his knees moved down alongside of Paula's face, stroking his purplish cock with his fist.

"You wanted me to cum, right? Here. Open your mouth! Take it!"

Grabbing Paula by the back of neck with one hand, he held her face in front of his crotch while he jacked himself off. He let out a loud moan, and as he bellowed, thick jets of cum spurted out of his cock.

Some ending up in Paula's open mouth, but most spraying all over her face, hair and neck. Thick wads of milky white cum that eventually became a dribble, but not before she was drenched with his seed.

"Look at yourself," Professor Wright commanded after he pulled on himself a few more times, extracting the last drop of cum from his tool, and turned Paula's head toward the mirror on the dresser.

She cringed when she saw the sight of Professor Wright crouched over her, and her face coated with his spunk. It dripped into her eyes, mercifully blurring her vision, and her head fell back onto the bedding after he let go of her.

Professor Wright climbed off the bed and walked slowly to the bathroom. Paula began to slowly sob as she heard him return to the bed, and she felt the warmth of his hairy body just before he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"I assumed you'd be crying," the professor said gently as he rubbed her arm and nibbled on her neck. "The thing I wonder about is, are you crying because you've been unfaithful to your husband, or because you enjoyed it so much?"

"Both," Paula whispered.

"It will bother you less each time, and you'll enjoy it more each time as well."

"There won't be a next time," Paula answered.

"We'll see," was all that he said.

Moving Paula from her side to her back, his mouth found her breast, sucking on the thick stub of her nipple while he pulled her hand up toward the headboard. Paula turned her face toward him with a pleading look that even she didn't understand, and found herself responding despite everything.

Feeling her nipple responding, he moved his mouth over to her side. His tongue slid upwards along Paula's damp skin, where he let it glide up through the moist fuzz that filled her armpit, tasting the exotic mix of pheromones and perspiration. He continued nibbling all the way up to her elbow before retracing his journey.

"I'll be gentle this time," Paula heard him say as she felt his erection against her thigh, and although she wanted to protest, she couldn't find the words.

This time, his strokes were slower and far more restrained, and his penetration not nearly as deep. Despite the satisfied soreness between her legs, Paula found herself becoming more and more aroused, and when she came again, she did so with incredible intensity, writhing around while the orgasm kept washing over her in waves.

Professor Wright looked down at Paula after she came, and after sliding his cock in and out of her a few more times, came himself. Paul felt his cock jerk as she sprayed his seed inside of her, and he stayed inside of her until the felt his cum drizzle out of her pussy and down the crack of her butt.

Paula drifted off to sleep after that, but in what seemed like only a few minutes she felt herself being prodded from behind.

"How in the world?" Paula asked, trying to figure out how a man that was a senior citizen could possibly be so insatiable. "I can't, Prof... I mean Paul."

"You might say that I have a high sex drive, Paula," Paul noted while rubbing his tool against her soft thigh. "Despite my age, I think you'll find I'm quite insatiable, especially with someone that I've wanted all my life."

"You've been amazing, but I just can't."

"You can," he said firmly. "You will."

"I'm so sore," Paula explained.

"I know."

"You mean your pussy can't take any more?"

Paula felt him rolling her over on her stomach, and seconds later he was prying her buttocks apart.

"Oh no... please don't," Paula pleaded, as she felt his finger slide into her ass.

It was a very well lubricated finger, and it was insistent, as was the second finger that joined in. Paula felt him climbing on top of her, and then the finger was replaced by something just as hard, but much, much thicker.

"Relax, Paula dear," Paul said as he pressed the tip of his member at the opening. "Let your muscles go so you can enjoy this. Trust me, you will."

Paula bit into the pillow that her face was buried in, trying to muffle the sound of her scream as the head of his cock squeezed into her anus. He couldn't get very much more than the head in, but he seemed satisfied with that, rocking the crown in and out of her tender opening while he grunted with each thrust.

He came fairly quickly, much to her relief, stopping his prodding suddenly as she felt his body tense. The force of his ejaculation startled her as much as the roar that he let loose while he emptied his load into her. Paula felt the soothing warmth blast into her bowels as he hugged her tightly.

Satisfied, he climbed off of her and held her close while they drifted off to sleep.

............

Thursday.

Paula woke up very early, a little disoriented and groggy, before realizing that she was still in Professor Wright's room. There was no sign of him, however. He was gone, and his belongings were nowhere in sight. 

"Wham, bam and goodbye," thought Paula aloud, as she realized that she had to get to her own room and check out of this place and go back. Back to what? Home? John?

It took considerable effort of Paula to stand up, and when she did, she found herself walking like she had just gotten off of a horse. In fact, it felt like she was still on the horse, as it took a few paces to be able to get her legs together. Her pussy ached, and her bottom was on fire.

The dress she had worn was folded on the dresser, and on top of it was a note. Paula put on the dress while her eyes struggled to adjust to being awake, read the note.

Dearest Paula,

Thank you for the most magnificent night imaginable. I would have said this to you in person, but I was far too ashamed at what I had done to look you in the eye. At least just now, that is.

"You're embarrassed?" Paula said to no one. "I'm the one that cheated on my husband, the bastard," she said before returning to the letter.

This is a tape of what happened out in the living area of the suite the first three nights. You are free to do anything with it that you please, although I confess that I would love a copy of it.

I have another tape. That is a record of what happened in bed last night. I have not seen it all yet, but it looks amazing, especially the part where I hold your head up toward the camera after I came all over your pretty face. I will send you a copy of that one ASAP, and you can do what you like with the copy of that as well.

I know you are mad at your husband, but I think you should think carefully about what you do next. He has some issues of his own, and one of them we have discussed is a desire of his to see you with another man. Perhaps you might want to share these tapes with him. I know he would not be offended. Just the opposite. There would be no danger in showing him these films of us fucking. After all, you know he has not been faithful to you. 

We all know that, because you see, the woman he has been with the last few nights is my wife. Definitely not deceased, as John can attest to if you give him a chance, and for that lie I apologize again. All part of the plan.

Hopefully, after you and John speak about this, you won't be as upset about this. Perhaps we can all get together, which is what John really wants most of all. Obviously, I would like that too.

Whatever you decide, always remember that I care deeply about you, as does John. Also keep in mind that within all of us, there's something inside that we aren't especially proud of, and we're all capable of doing things that we wouldn't ordinarily do. You know that now too, and better than most.

Love, Paul (MisterChips)

Paula stood up eventually and went back to her room, numbly gathering her things and checking out of her room before heading back home. The nearly three hour ride home would not nearly be long enough to give her the time she needed to sort things out in her mind, but it would help.

..........

thanks for reading my story.