Sometimes in the dream she would come out from under the table and introduce Frank to Chuck, and Chuck would not notice that Frank was naked. Sometimes she would stay under the table, and tell the children to eat dinner in the dining room with their father. Once, in the dream, Chuck began to serve dinner to the children while she held Frank’s penis in her mouth and swallowed his cum.

Lauren’s only bulwark of sanity was the agreement that Frank would never again come to her house. He would meet her only at the school or in town. To her infinite relief he had also become a paragon of punctuality. He appeared only on the days he said he would be there. Sometimes they would meet for coffee at Peter’s Place, and they would not have sex at all. Most importantly, he never appeared at her house, and Lauren never had to learn how she would greet him if he did.

For Lauren there was still no sense of ease in cheating on her husband. Adultery never became a routine. Simply walking the half mile from the school to Connors’ house was a minor ordeal because she knew so many people on campus. Who might turn the corner as she walked up the steps to of his porch? Nor could she find no emotional or libidinal equilibrium in their meetings. One day, sitting across the table from him sipping a latte, he was nothing more than a reasonably attractive doctor and professor of biology. Two days later he was an irresistible sex magnet; she would beg him to take her back to his house and fuck her on the floor.

Two minutes after she folded her umbrella and sat down beside him, she knew that today’s meeting was one of desperate need.

“Did you drive today?” she asked, already plotting to get back to his house and have sex. She had an umbrella but they would look too cozy walking under it together.

“No,” he answered. “Maybe we should plan on Saturday? How does it look for golf?”

He was alluding to Chuck’s golf outings which served as the most convenient occasions for their weekend rendezvous.

“Today. Now! Let’s go,” she protested, quickly looking around to see who might overhear. “I can’t get away this Saturday.”

He was not moving.

“What about Sunday?” he countered. “Couldn’t you get a ‘headache’ just before it was time to go to church?”

She had not thought about Sunday morning. All three of their children were in Sunday school. Chuck could take them to church if she were not well, but he might just suggest that they all stay home. Besides, the issue was not whether she would want him on Sunday: she wanted him now! She restrained herself from grabbing his arm and leading him out into the rain.

“Can you stay until six thirty tonight?” he asked. “That would give us half an hour at your office.”

“Yes. Tonight,” she answered instantly. She was due home early tonight, but she would make some excuse and have her assistant Cathy bring Charlie and Jillian home earlier. How could she wait that long? Her next thought was whether she could masturbate in one of the bathrooms back at the school, an uncertain proposition since the staff shared the bathroom with the children. My God, she thought, now I’m plotting to diddle myself in my own school building?

Before she cleared her mind of this frightening thought, a young woman pulled up a chair and joined them. She immediately knew who it was. She knew it was only a matter of time before she would meet Frank’s cute new conquest.

“Lauren, this is Rachel Grossman.”

Lauren fumbled for words, and eventually just said “Hello.” As the conversation went on, she realized that it hardly mattered what she said because Rachel’s attention was entirely on Frank.

“Rachel,” he continued, obviously amused with himself. “This is Mrs. Bakersfield.”

To Lauren’s amazement, Frank announced that he had enlisted her, Lauren, to help Rachel with an English paper. It seemed that Rachel could not continue with Frank’s graduate level biology seminars next fall unless she caught up on the undergraduate English requirement. Frank had promised that Lauren would help. Never mind that she had not corrected an English paper in nine years since she had moved to the children’s school, nor that she had only taught in high school. Frank was asking her to tutor the student whom he had already set out to seduce.

This was absurd. Before Lauren could protest, however, Frank took her hand and pressed it between his. Her resistance wilted.

“So you’ll help Rachel then? I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. I’ll see you at six at the school?”

In a moment, he disappeared from the coffee shop out into the rain, leaving Lauren and Rachel together to arrange the details. Rachel seemed utterly at ease with the situation Frank had created. Lauren wondered if Rachel was already sleeping with Frank, and more disturbing, if Rachel already knew that Frank was planning on having both of them in a “threesome.” In any event, Rachel was a confident and perceptive young woman. She moved easily and engaged you in conversation with her sparkling brown eyes. She was cute and she obviously found Frank sexy, just as Lauren did herself.

Ten minutes later, having exchanged email addresses and having agreed to meet the next evening to review the first draft of Rachel’s paper on Thomas Hardy, Lauren left the coffee shop and went back to the school.

The moment that Frank arrived, Lauren closed the door to her office and pulled down the roller blind. His arms enfolded her, the world disappeared, the ache between her legs was transformed into a hot, sharp pleasure. Her mouth moved more and more frantically against his, and her teeth nipped at his lips until he lifted her a few inches in the air and sat her down on her desk. Twice before he had taken her in this office and on this desk. She knew what to expect next. She raised the skirt of her dress to her waist and pulled off her underwear, expecting his mouth on her pussy at any moment.

Still, the kiss went on.

“Touch me,” she begged. “Eat me, please, Frank.”

He began to kiss her thighs and she lay back with the lips of her pussy thrust over the edge of the desk and her legs dangling towards the floor. He was kneeling between her legs now, his hands stroking the backs of her calves and his shoulders holding her knees wide apart.

“Now, Frank. Please. Now. I beg you. Do it.”

Still, his hands moved gently and slowly behind her calves. The heat between her thighs only increased. Each of her outer lips was now a fat roll of red flesh under a wet fuzz of light brown hair. Her inner lips had melted outwards in wide thin tongues and her clitoris stood out above them. His mouth came no closer to her pussy than the inside of her knees, but the heat of his breath tantalized her all the more.

“FRANK, don’t do this to me! PLEASE!”

When he still did not touch her, she moved her right hand over her opening and began to stroke herself; but she found that he had taken both of her wrists and was holding them at her sides.

“I just want to see how much you want it,” he whispered. “Just think. You would do anything I want. Think of all the sweet things you’ll do with Rachel.”

She twisted and struggled. Just as she burst into tears of frustration, Connors curled one of his fingers up the front wall of her vagina and diddled the pulpy seed that released her juice. Reflexively, she pressed her hand over her mound again to quell the unbearably sensitive nerves, but it was too late. She needed release, and she grasped her opening and pubic bone with all the strength in her hand to control the tension. Her hips bucked, as if of their own will, and tears filled her eyes.

“Do you want me to go down on you?” he demanded.

“Please, Frank. I need it now!”

“If Rachel were here, I would have her eat you. I bet she’s as good as I am.”

Indignation and revulsion flashed across Lauren’s face, but her expression morphed to pure pleasure when he covered her entire clitoris with his tongue. In only a few seconds this hot, steady, insistent pressure brought her to climax. He continued to hold her hands at her sides until her breathing returned to normal.

She held her eyes shut, afraid that he could see her complete surrender. Would she notice the difference, she wondered, when Rachel’s tongue had replaced Frank’s?

That evening, Rachel must have arrived at Connors’ house within an hour of him leaving Lauren on the desk at the children’s school. We know that he showered and changed his clothes in the interim. He wanted to minimize the effect of any pheromones generated by sex with Lauren on his subsequent seduction of Rachel. Connors already knew from the encounter in the coffee shop that both women could be ensnared at the same time. The properties of their pheromones did not cancel each other out, and now he wanted to test Rachel’s recipe by itself.

The brew that he had synthesized for Rachel bore every sign of being exceptionally potent judging from the retrospective match to her DNA. Her ultimate fate was sealed before she knocked on his door that evening, and Frank knew it. Still, she might not have succumbed on the first visit had she not been so confident of her own lesbian orientation.

It’s not that she had never been with a man. On the contrary, she had experienced vaginal intercourse with three different men. Her motives in these encounters had been a mixture of curiosity, pity and arrogance. Never, however, had she felt a serious sexual attraction to a man. Nor had her body responded to them.

In fact, as she tells the story now, she did not realize that her own libidinal pull landed her at Connors’ that evening. She knew she was infatuated with him, but she saw her “hero worship” as just another element of the game. The professor takes a special interest in her work and she is flattered. Of course, the professor might invite her to his place expressly to get in her pants. She knew how the world worked; but, unless he simply raped her, which she rightly did not expect to happen, she saw no reason she could not wrap him around her little finger and escape unscathed as she had done so many times before. She expected to put a serious dent in his ego, if not break his heart as had happened with one of those men who had preceded him in her favors.

She was, to mix gender metaphors, far too cocky.

They sat in his front room and drank sherry. Have some Madeira, my dear. If nothing else, Connors proved that his peptide confection would vanquish the most outrageous clichés of seduction.

“How old are you, Rachel?”

“Twenty.” She knew the game was afoot and she relished it.

“And what should I assume about your attitude towards fraternization between faculty and students?”

“That’s a long winded way of saying that you think I’m hot, isn’t it?”

“I figure that a longer sentence gives you time to think. Perhaps you would need time to put down your glass before you run out the door…in the event you’re getting nervous.”

“Well, evidently I’m not. In fact, I’ll have another glass of sherry if you’re offering.”

“Yes, of course. I want to get to know you. I want to know all about you, actually.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow, amused and bemused by his arrogance.

She could have waited for him to take her glass, but she chose to rise and stand next to him as he poured the sherry, wanting to be close enough for him to melt in the aura of her young body. The four inch gap between the bottom of her tee shirt and the waist of her jeans revealed enough of her taunt stomach to serve the purpose. The curve of her breasts was evident through the thin fabric.

When, instead of pouring the wine, he bent slightly to kiss her, she turned her face upwards and waited for him to do something mad and passionate that he would immediately regret. Men, in Rachel’s experience, were so predictable.

Instead, he teased her, touching his lips to hers with only the lightest pressure until she had wrapped her arms around him and lost herself in the embrace.

“You have a certain self-confidence,” he breathed in her ear. “I will be fascinated to see how you handle yourself. You know that Lauren and I are lovers?”

Rachel answered only by raising her lips to his. He put down the sherry bottle and took the glass from her hand. It was the tip of her tongue, not his, that ventured out on a mission of exploration. Her arms pulled him close, and her hands squeezed his buns. She remembered musing on how men could be so unsexy as to put a wallet in their back pocket.

It was Connors, not Rachel, who eventually broke the kiss, and he poured out the refill that she had requested and forgotten. She took it and resumed her seat in his rocking chair.

“You don’t seem the least bit nervous,” he said at last.

At this point, Rachel knew that there was something different about Connors. She was responding to him. She found him sexy, and she was becoming aroused. She was not sloppy wet as she might ultimately get with a girl, and her nipples were still well behaved beneath her tee shirt, but there was clearly something happening within her; and it had never happened before with a man.

Her curiosity kicked in.

“If you’re not nervous,” he said, “then I’ll invite you to try another kiss -- but, first, take your time with the sherry.”

Rachel accepted his invitation to play a second round, presumably for higher stakes. She watched him watch her. Her tongue moved slowly across her lips, and she could feel the slightest sting of the alcohol twinned with the coolness of its evaporation. She had never noticed it before and now she enjoyed it.

She sipped and waited, watched and sipped. She almost glanced at her watch to see how long their contest had run, but she chose to fix her gaze on him. He was confident and unhurried. When her glass was empty, she reached down, placed it on the floor beside her chair, and then, grasping the hem of her tee shirt, she pulled it over her head. She took off her watch and noted that she had been with him for about forty minutes. She let him look at her breasts while she pulled a half dozen delicate silver bracelets off her wrists and placed them on the floor by the glass and her watch.

Her breasts were perfect, symmetric circles of firm flesh and dark pink nipples. They were still well behaved. She slipped the sandals off her feet by pressing her heels together and then stood up and removed her jeans and panties. Folding herself gracefully back into the rocking chair, her slender legs crossed at the thigh, she showed not the least hint of self-consciousness. She settled in to watch him squirm with desire.

Connors rose and stood directly in front of her. Her gaze strayed to the bulge in his pants and suddenly her head began to swim. She thought that perhaps she had drunk too much sherry but realized that alcohol had never affected her in this way. The real cause of her disorientation was the proximity of the pheromone lure flooding her olfactory equipment. Her nipples hardened and blood began to engorge her sex, but she could not yet identify these changes consciously. Rather, there was a diffuse but compelling sense of sexual desire.

Whatever the cause of her confusion, Rachel knew that she had lost control of the game, and she immediately decided that she needed to get out. She had only one rule when it came to sexual games with men: Stay in control.

She started to reconnoiter the room to see where her clothes lay. She would have to push past him to get her jeans and tee shirt from the spot where she dropped them in the middle of the room. Would he try to stop her?

He stepped even closer to her, grabbed the back of the rocking chair and pulled it forward. She was trapped in the chair. Her face was now less than twelve inches away from his crotch and its surprising allure. The scent wafted from the hair on his chest and under his upraised arms. She uncrossed her legs and stiffened in anticipation and in fear, but a strangely powerful arousal also welled up inside her. Her hands gripped the arms of the wooden rocker.

“Do you want me to show you how to do this?” he asked.

Part of her wanted to “do this” – to open his belt and take him in her mouth, but Rachel still registered shock at his words -- at his guess that she had no experience of oral sex with a man. He knew quite a bit about her, of course, having read and copied her medical history from her file at the university health services. Sexually active, never used contraceptives. Homosexual orientation.

“You’ve never done this with a man have you?”

She knew what she wanted now, and she knew that what she wanted was only a few inches away and inside his pants; but he held too much control, and so, more than anything she wanted to escape.

She was cornered and terribly frightened. Each time that she had teased a man before, she had controlled every step, consciously stoking his desire while feeling none of her own. She looked up at him and saw that the roles were now reversed. He had been playing with her, and now she wanted him.

No, she thought, not with a man. I won’t give up control to a man. Again, she considered whether she might still retrieve her clothes and beat an ungainly retreat. She did not relish the embarrassment of fleeing like a frightened teenager who had gone too far in a game with an older man.

He reached forward with his left hand and stroked her hair while his right hand pulled the back of the rocking chair, and hence her face, even closer to his crotch. She wanted him in her mouth. This hot, sticky organ that had always seemed so comical and tame now exerted a commanding attraction. Then his hand descended to her nipple whose point he tugged gently between his thumb and forefinger.

“It’s hard already and I’ve barely touched you. You look scared now,” he said. She could not muster the bravura to deny that she was. “Perhaps we’re taking things a little too quickly.”

Still stroking her hair and looking steadily into her eyes, he asked, “Perhaps you’d like to get dressed and we can try again? I intend to enjoy you for a long while, and I don’t want to spoil things.”

He did not wait for her reply. He gathered up her clothes and then took her hand, signaling her to rise from the rocking chair.

“Hold out your arms.”

He held the tee shirt so that she could slide her arms into the holes, and then he gently eased the fabric down her sides.

“Oh,” Rachel moaned softly at his touch. Her every nerve-ending was primed and the brain’s pathways to sexual arousal were exquisitely open to the stimulus of touch.

Then, Connors lowered himself to one knee and held her panties at her feet for her to step into. She steadied herself with both hands on his shoulders as she placed one foot and then the other into the openings. Her knees began to buckle in response to the touch of his hands moving slowing and lightly up the length of her legs. By the time he stood up again and smoothed the fabric into place over her hips and buttocks, she had both arms around his neck for support.

Rachel felt her mouth melt into his, and she closed her eyes to soak in the taste and smell of this amazing man. His strong arms caressed her shoulders and back, and she felt herself pressing her mound, hot and engorged, into the hard muscles of his thigh. She relished the sensation of her bare thighs squeezing his body. Her tongue moved deeper into his mouth and then accepted his reciprocal explorations.

Bliss and oblivion. She could go on kissing him forever.

Slowly, however, he began to disengage from the kiss, relaxing his close embrace and raising his head so that her lips and tongue got less and less of his mouth. Finally, when he spoke, she was kissing the base of his neck, seeking out the heat of his blood which passed in veins and arteries near the surface in the soft hollow.

“Don’t forget your jeans,” he admonished.

Rachel’s mouth twisted into a frown that betrayed her disappointment. Taking her cue, she relaxed her arms from around his neck and let their bodies move a few inches apart. She could not truly recall the fright she had experienced earlier her loss of control. She was embarrassed, yes, but what was there to be afraid of?

Still, she read the smile of triumph across his face, and suddenly she blushed to be standing in her panties within his reach. Her nakedness, initially her ploy to tease and entice him, was now revealed as vulnerability. She was in retreat and still quite exposed.

Somehow, she pulled on her jeans, reassembled her watch and bracelets, and made her way out to the street. It had grown dark and cool. She realized that the night air had doused her sex flush.

The prior evening with Connors resembled a dream -- and a very weird dream at that. Never, even a dream, would she have imagined that the touch of a man’s fingertips along her legs could leave her too weak stand. Never could she imagine losing control to a man. Nor could she have imagined the urgent desire to kneel, and unzip him, to reach into his pants and…No, it was inconceivable now in the light of day.

All through the morning lab and then into the afternoon Rachel replayed the odd experience in her mind. Was Connors just being chivalrous in helping her back into her clothes and assisting her retreat? Did he realize how completely she would have given in had he pressed the attack? What motive did he have for recruiting Lauren to help her? Rachel thoughts shifted with foreboding to the impending session with Lauren to work on her paper that evening.

When Connors had first mentioned Lauren, Rachel did not guess that he might be having an affair with her. Even if he proved to be lecherous and not chivalrous, why would he introduce her to his lover? Didn’t men try to hide one lover from another?

Rachel skipped dinner. Her stomach was too unsettled in anticipation of what would develop that evening. By the pricking of my thumbs, something kinky this way comes.

Promptly at 7:30, a dark green Plymouth Voyager pulled up near Rachel’s dorm. Chuck Bakersfield, Lauren’s husband, was there to drive her to their house where she and Lauren would work on the paper while Chuck took care of the kids and put them to bed.

Once in the passenger seat, all of Rachel’s attention was on Chuck. He was strikingly handsome and athletic, muscles rippling in his arms and shoulders. He smiled with an easy, genuine warmth exposing white, even teeth that matched Lauren’s. It took only a moment to conclude that Lauren and Chuck were the perfect couple.

Why was Lauren having an affair with Connors when she was married to this perfect, and perfectly charming, hunk? And why was she, Rachel, attracted to Frank but not in the least attracted to Chuck?

Rachel had taken an extra moment to appraise each of the men she passed on campus that day, wondering whether they would turn her on. Would she be drawn to every crotch she passed now that she had coveted Connors from less than six inches away? Maybe it would only be taller, more distinguished types like her professor. Or maybe it was only Connors himself that got her hot.

Rachel’s other preoccupation during this disconcerting day was to reconfirm her own long-standing attraction to women. She took reassurance from the fact that Terri, the tall dark-haired grad student at the other end of her chemistry lab bench was just as attractive today as she was last week; and Rachel’s eye for female beauty, wherever she encountered it on campus, seemed just as acute as ever.

Rachel and Lauren sat down at the dining room table to work on the paper. At first Rachel was distracted by the kids – little Jillian kept poking her head round to see what Mom was up to – but then Chuck herded the trio upstairs. Once Rachel and Lauren were alone, they set to work on the paper, but Lauren was obviously distracted. She had made good notes on Rachel’s draft, but her oral comments were hardly helpful at all.

Lauren, as she herself recalls, was even more troubled by this first meeting than was Rachel, and understandably so. Connors intended to proceed with his “threesome,” and he had assigned Lauren the task making the arrangements. Worst of all, Lauren knew that she would go along with whatever Connors arranged: she could not afford another incident, whether in front of Chuck or her children, in which her desire for Connors would overwhelm and betray her. As she sat with Rachel at the dining room table, Lauren could barely think and her tutoring efforts left no doubt of her distraction.

Finally, Rachel gave up on Thomas Hardy for the evening.

“How do you know Professor Connors?” she asked.

“Oh…just from around campus,” answered Lauren.

“He says that you and he are lovers.”

The two women looked directly at each other. Rachel was fearless and determined to learn what was going on. When Lauren did not answer, Rachel pressed her.

“Why did he set us up together?”

“He’s rather intense sometimes. Sometimes it takes a while to …like, to get in tune with him.”

“For instance?”

Again, there was no answer from Lauren.

Rachel kept her voice down, but she spoke more emphatically. “You two are lovers, aren’t you?”

This time Lauren nodded. She glanced towards the hall. Chuck and the children were still upstairs. He shouldn’t come down again until around nine when it would be time for him to drive Rachel back to her dorm.

“Frank says you’re a great student. Tremendous potential. He’s really taken a special interest in you.”

“You don’t say? Do you know I went to his place on Thursday night. He served me sherry and hit on me.”

Rachel studied Lauren’s face for a reaction, but Lauren continued as if she had been talking about the weather.

“Rachel, Dr. Connors has asked me to speak to you about some things that would really help you with your studies. There’s so much he’d like to do to help you out…I mean so that you could take every advantage of the program especially in the fall. You’ll be a sophomore, right?”

“Yeah?” Rachel responded guardedly. Yeah, right. He’s dying to help me.

“Well, just two things for the moment. First, he’s hoping you might dress more professionally for classes. He’s asked me to help you shop for some suits. A tailored look.”

“And?”

“And he was thinking you and he could have special sessions on Saturday mornings. He was hoping…he said I should tell you to come at nine thirty. Generally, I mean not every Saturday, but generally…I mean unless he tells you not to come on a given Saturday.”

Rachel was incredulous. The nerve of this guy. The astounding nerve. Pushing back the instinct to explode, Rachel decided that light sarcasm would be more effective. Why try to shoot to messenger, the obviously confounded Lauren, when it was Connors that she wanted to castrate right now?

“Tell Dr. Connors that I appreciate his kind offer, and that I’ll tell him exactly what I think of it when I next see him.”

“Oh, no,” Lauren responded earnestly. “He said I have to make the arrangements with you tonight. I have to get you to agree tonight.”

“Well, I don’t agree,” Rachel declared vehemently. “Not at all.”

Rachel again checked herself from an explosion directed at Lauren and changed the subject.

“Look,” said Rachel. “I appreciate that you would help me with my English papers, but you don’t have to. I mean we could just drop the whole thing if you want.”

“No, please!” Lauren entreated her. There was an element of panic in her voice. She didn’t dare to defy Connors by backing out of the arrangement; and now she was less frightened of Rachel and what might happen between them. “Look, I feel better now that we talked. Let’s just work on the paper.”

Rachel let Lauren go back to her comments on the draft. She was more cogent now, and Rachel realized that Lauren could be an excellent tutor; but she still concluded that she no longer wanted any part of Lauren or Connors in her life. She waited until the end of their session, then told Lauren her decision.

“Thanks. Really. You’ve helped me a lot tonight. I appreciate it, but we shouldn’t be doing this. Whatever Connors said to you -- his suggestion or whatever – I’m sure you’re right: I’m sure he’s rather intense sometimes, too intense. Anyway, I’m really glad to have met you and Chuck and the kids. They’re really beautiful. You have a wonderful family.”

Lauren felt as though her burden were lifted. Whatever Connors had planned, he couldn’t do it if Rachel wouldn’t go along; and however confident Connors might be about his own seductiveness, Rachel was not going along. Much to Lauren’s relief, this young woman, poised and perceptive beyond her years, was telling her that she would respect her family.

Rachel and Lauren both slept well that night – unaware how complicated their lives would still become.

All weekend, Rachel mused over this dictum from Mark Twain and her bad judgment in attempting to seduce Connors. He had turned the tables on her completely, as she now admitted. With two days to regain perspective, Rachel was confident that she could extract herself from the situation. Her attraction to Connors was strange beyond all imagining, but, as she realized with each “normal” day that passed, she had lost neither her mind nor her sexual orientation. She had been foolish to play that little game with her lecherous professor, but she had learned her lesson for the future.

Neither Rachel nor Samuel Clemens, however, had been prepared for Connors’ chemical arsenal, and so Rachel never had a fair chance to exercise her new found good judgment. I know from Connors lab notebooks that he used an especially generous dose of pheromones that Monday morning. Pubic hair, chest, back and underarms. You would think he reeked, but, Rachel’s DNA matched pheromones were undetectable to anyone else.

Professor Connors’ graduate seminar met for ninety minutes without a break Mondays and Wednesdays in one of the classrooms in Dewey Hall. Sitting at the seminar table on Monday, in her usual spot two seats away from Connors, Rachel experienced the same intensity of desire and panic she had felt Thursday night when he stood in front of her and she sat naked in the rocking chair. Ten minutes into the class her arousal became noticeable and she remembered her panic at his place. Thirty minutes later her panties were damp and each small movement of her thighs raised her level of arousal. Soon her nipples began to grow hard, and she could no longer follow the class. Her mind wandered, first to the fantasy of holding his cock in her mouth, and then, with considerable conscious effort to distract herself, to Terri, the woman in her chemistry lab whose long legs and tight ass constituted such a visible temptation every Friday morning.

Despite her efforts to think about Terri and not Connors, it was the professor, the male of the species sitting less than five feet away, who was making her wet. Just before the class ended, he stood up and positioned himself behind her chair. She couldn’t leave, she realized, without practically touching him. Worse yet, she no longer wanted to leave.

As the rest of the students filed out of the room, Rachel remained. Bracing herself, she pushed back her chair and stood next to him. She watched anxiously until she was alone with him, and then she all but pounced to close the door.

“Good to see you again, sweetheart,” he said.

Rachel closed her eyes, reached up, and ran her hands over his chest. She found herself inhaling deeply, as though performing an extraordinary yogic exercise that cleansed the mind and body with a sacred breath. Without opening her eyes, she reached for his belt and began to undo the buckle.

“Not yet,” he said. “I want to talk to you.”

Before she could object, he started out of the classroom and she grabbed her bag to follow him. He walked out onto the grassy strip in front of Dewey Hall where he dropped his books and sat down. She sat next to him -- not as close as she wanted to, but much closer than normal for female undergraduates who are not sleeping with their professors.

“How did it go with Lauren Friday night?” he asked.

“Fine, but do you really want to talk about Lauren?”

“Yes, I’m thinking you two will be best buddies.”

Rachel was prepared for him to make some unseemly suggestion, and she wanted to get it out of the way.

“Look, if you want to carry on an affair with a married woman, that’s your business. Just leave me out of it.”

“I thought you liked girls. Or is she too old for you?”

Rachel scanned the lawn and walkways in the center of campus. Late in the morning on a Monday it was full of students. She saw lots of her friends and they could see her with her “biology professor.”

Rachel had already abandoned her resolution that she would have nothing to do with Connors. Now, she wanted to get him indoors somewhere and resume the long probing kiss from Thursday night. She tried to change the subject.

“Let’s go to your place. Call your office and tell them you won’t be in.”

“Answer me. Is she too old for you?”

“No, you motherfucking idiot. Why can’t you just leave her alone? She has a family.”

“She has a very sweet family. I’ve seen her kids. Have you met Chuck?”

“You leave him out of this too.”

“Rachel, you’re a sweet kid. Thursday night you were perfectly fearless, but rather naïve. Don’t you think? You still think you’re in control don’t you?”

She wanted him too badly to think she retained any control at all. Now, only desire ruled.

“Come on,” she said, at the end of her endurance. “I want to blow you. Suck your cock? Tu comprends? Pardon my French.”

“Not so fast, little girl. Now we know what you want, but who says that’s what I want?”

Rachel could imagine a dozen nasty and repulsive scenes that he might enjoy. She closed her eyes, moderated her breathing, and began to weigh how much she would pay to have her desire fulfilled. Fifteen seconds later, when she opened her eyes, Lauren was sitting with them in the grass.

Rachel realized that she had been set up.

“Saturday morning, nine thirty at my place,” he announced. “Exactly at nine thirty. Let yourself in. The front door’s never locked. And Lauren’s here to help you pick out a few things for your wardrobe.”

“We could have lunch together first,” said Lauren with an apologetic smile. “And then I was thinking of like Ann Taylor or Brooks Brothers at the mall. If that’s OK with you…”

Wearing a suit to the seminar on Wednesday had been an ordeal. Some of her friends thought she was on her way to a job interview. Walking across campus on a Saturday morning in such an outfit was even more embarrassing. Everyone else was studiously casual if not grungy for the weekend. Happily, Rachel thought, most everyone I know is still drunk, drugged out or boinked out from Friday night and therefore still in bed.

The impressive shoulder bag briefcase held her binder with notes and journal articles on molecular biology. Lauren had told her that Frank wanted her to bring these materials to work on during their “session” on Saturday morning. Was this his idea of cover, she wondered? In case she were stopped by the campus police? No, officer, I’m not on my way to fuck my professor. We’re just going over the latest research in the field.

Rachel checked her watch when she arrived at Connors’ porch. It was about 9:28 or 9:29. Lauren had reiterated Frank’s “request” that she let herself in at exactly nine thirty. Fuck him, she thought. I’m not going to stand on his porch looking like this just to keep his absurd schedule. She turned the knob on the front door, found it open as promised, and walked into the front room.

“Hello, Frank? It’s me.”

She looked around the room and peered towards the kitchen. Was he back there? She felt a shiver go up her spine as she glanced at the rocking chair, the drinks tray and sherry decanter that had figured as the props for her last, memorable visit.

Two bare and very feminine legs descended the stair from the bedroom. Just when Rachel had seen enough exposed thigh to suggest an encounter with a naked emissary from Frank, an extra large Dartmouth tee shirt appeared, followed by Lauren’s hands, arms and blushing visage. She had obviously been having sex with Frank and he wanted Rachel to notice the fact.

“Hi,” Lauren offered lamely. “Frank’s upstairs.”

“Hi,” returned Rachel. Well, she thought, what now?

“Umm…we made coffee. Would you like some? You can just leave your bag on the sofa.”

Speechless for the moment, Rachel put down her bag and followed Lauren into the kitchen. Was it just the revealing tee shirt, or the aura of just having had sex that suddenly made Lauren so attractive? Rachel found herself following a woman who was softer and shapelier, more lithe and more slender than she remembered.

“Stacey’s mom has got it going on.”

The lyric intruded on Rachel’s thoughts and could not be banished. Whenever I speak to Rachel about that morning, this pop lyric is her most vivid memory. Of course, you never expect to remember the “scent” of a person when you think of a past episode, and Rachel had no conscious perception of Lauren in that regard. Nor did she have any way to know that Frank had set up Lauren as the ultimate honeypot for Rachel’s sapphic desires. Frank and Lauren had just had sex. Small, but embarrassing amounts of semen trickled from Lauren’s pussy down between her thighs; and the semen mixed with Rachel’s own pheromone cocktail -- what Connors’ called the “hydrogen bomb” of his arsenal -- had just exploded on Rachel.

“Stacey’s mom has got it going on.”

“I think he’ll be down in a few minutes,” Lauren explained.

Who? Rachel had forgotten that she had come to see Connors. All her interest dwelled, for the moment, in this soft, sexy and very much exposed female who was offering her coffee. Rachel almost felt a spark pass between them when their hands touched around the coffee mug.

“You look great,” said Lauren. “I mean the suit. It really does look great on you.”

“You look great,” replied Rachel, before she could stop herself. “I mean the tee shirt.”

Lauren blushed and turned away. Rachel did not step back after taking the coffee mug. Instead, she reached up and touched the collar of the tee shirt, tracing a half circle on the older woman’s neck. Rachel felt goose bumps rise on her own neck and arms at the touch.

Lauren took two steps away, leaned against the kitchen counter and forced a laugh to break the silence.

“Yeah, the tee shirt is a bit much,” she chuckled nervously. “And I never liked guys from Dartmouth. Too stuck up. Don’t you think?”

“You mean like Frank?” Rachel asked. “Did he do med school at Dartmouth or undergraduate? I think the B.A.’s there are the worst.”

Rachel took a step closer to Lauren who again evaded her. Tentatively, Rachel reached out to touch Lauren’s arm, but the older woman waved her away.

“Look,” she said, testily. “I’m sorry I got you involved. Not that any of this was my idea. Anyway, he should come down soon. You brought the journal articles?”

“I…I…I don’t believe this,” Rachel stammered and finally exclaimed. “You come down here literally dripping with sex and you ask me if I brought the molecular biology stuff? I can see why you’d want to change the subject.”

Tears appeared in Lauren’s eyes. She wanted to flee, but she knew there would be hell to pay with Frank if she went upstairs and left Rachel or if she let Rachel go upstairs. She certainly had not intended to come down in this state. She and Frank had been making the beast with two backs, she had forgotten the time, and then Frank had ordered her downstairs. It seemed particularly thoughtless of him to cum just before he shoved her out of the bed.

Now Lauren was truly frightened. It was one thing to talk about a “threesome,” but it was another to stand there “dripping sex” and exposed to a woman who was obviously getting aroused and starting to hit on her.

Seeing the tears flow, Rachel followed her instincts. She wrapped her arms around Lauren and tried to stroke her hair.

“Don’t worry,” she consoled. “It will be all right. It’s OK.”

Again Lauren tried to pull away, but Rachel persisted. Lauren was all elbows and sharp angles. She turned and wriggled and then suddenly cried out.

“Leave me alone,” she shouted. “I told you he would come downstairs.”

Stunned at the volume and vehemence of her protest, Rachel backed off. Lauren sobbed uncontrollably.

Such was the scene when Connors entered the kitchen.

“My, my. What a ruckus down here. Good morning, Rachel. I’m glad you could come.”

He continued his bantering tone while he draped one arm around Lauren and began to lead her out of the kitchen.

“I see Lauren gave you some coffee. Is your stuff in the living room? By the way, that suit is a great improvement. A hundred percent improvement.”

Gently, almost tenderly, he leaned Lauren against the door jamb and kissed her on the mouth. She responded hungrily to the overture, and for a moment she felt enveloped and protected by her lover and the powerful sexual bond between them. Her panic returned as his right hand moved between her thighs and several fingers slid inside her pussy. The pleasure for Lauren was as exquisite as the humiliation. Rachel certainly had seen her groped. She would have cried out again, but her mouth was stopped with his kiss.

“Go back to bed,” he said. “I’ll come back up for you in a minute.”

Lauren disappeared around the corner and up the stairs.

“Jesus Christ,” Rachel at Connors. “How can you do this to her?”

“Me? What did I do? She was perfectly happy when I last saw her. In fact, she was moaning in absolute bliss. The trouble seemed to be coming from down here. I figured I had to do something before the neighbors called the police.”

Indignant, Rachel was about to respond when Connors reached out to her and caressed her face with the hand that had just visited Lauren’s dripping pussy. Suddenly, Rachel’s consciousness was flooded directly with the scent that had excited her in the encounter with Lauren: Rachel’s signature pheromone and the special byproduct of her pheromone and Connors semen. For Rachel, there was also the distinct arousal produced by the cunt juice of an attractive woman -- a product of nature and not of Connors’ lab work.

She nearly fainted as Connors spread the concoction across her cheeks and then let her suck the remainder off his fingers.

“What did you tell me on Monday? That you wanted to suck my cock? Pardon my French. Well then, have a taste hold you over until you can have the real thing.”

Rachel braced herself against the kitchen counter to keep from swooning to the floor. In a fog of sensation and emotion she felt his mouth against hers and then the returning pleasures of last week’s long kiss. She was still angry with him, but there arose a feeling of “love conquers all.” Or sex conquers all. She wanted him, badly. Nothing else mattered for the moment.

“Rachel, be a sweetheart, won’t you. Let me go upstairs and see how Lauren’s doing. I apologize. I really did want to be with you this morning.”

He did not sound sincere, but the pleasure of his kiss was unarguable. When they had separated, Rachel headed to the sofa in the living room, and Connors headed upstairs. For a few minutes Rachel listened intently for a sign that Lauren had calmed down. Were those sobs coming from the bedroom? No, they were moans of pleasure. The rhythm of the moans and the bedsprings could have only one source: the beast with two backs.

Rachel collapsed on the sofa savoring the taste of his cum. OK, Lauren’s having her turn and I’ll have mine. As the minutes ticked away and the moans from upstairs grew only louder, her patience and hopes withered. Rachel thinks it was around eleven o’clock that Saturday when she finally stormed out of Connors place -- her humiliation still mixed with desire. We know from Connors’ lab notebooks that Lauren did not stop moaning until the poor man exhausted his stamina at 11:36 DST.

She waited for the other students to drift out so they could be alone. Shifting her weight from one leg to the other and trying to keep her gaze away from his crotch, Rachel had the odd thought that it was like having to pee.

As soon as the last of her fellow students filed out, Rachel gave her first blow job. Connors did not record an opinion on her performance.

As per the textbooks, this position offers the advantage of a free hand to the male, and Lauren appreciated the attention to the breast and nipple most easily within his reach. They exercised the bed vigorously, rolled in the hay, and gave both her breasts enough stimulation to put her in within spitting distance of orgasm. Unusually, however, Frank came first, and Lauren felt his cum ooze between both their thighs before she had gotten release herself.

For the first time ever in their lovemaking, Lauren actually had to think about how to get herself to come. He had not taken the opportunity to reach down and give attention to her clitoris, and now he was growing soft inside of her. Most alarming of all, this position of sexual congress precluded her from humping against his pubic bone.

“Mmm….that was heavenly Mrs. Bakersfield,” he murmured, carefully tipping her forward so that his weight would settle on her rump and legs and torso. He began to kiss her hands, which she took to be a romantic, but ineffective gesture: it would not make her come. Connors, however, was working towards the opposite objective. He wanted to keep Lauren primed but unsatisfied until Rachel arrived.

Lauren’s pussy was now full of the pheromones that would attract Rachel. Just like last week, Rachel would get both chocolate and vanilla: the cocktail attracting her to Connors and the one attracting her to Lauren. The locus for all this -- ground zero, so to speak -- was now the spot where his and her anatomies came together.

This week Connors had invited Rachel not only to his house, but directly to his bedroom on her arrival. After the humiliation of being left in the front room last week, Rachel noted the difference. She arrived at the appointed hour, let herself, in and came up the steps to the bedroom.

Lauren immediately tried to wriggle out from under Connors, but his arms held her tight.

“Rachel, glad you could come. You’re just in time to eat my dear lady. I seem to have disappointed her this morning. It would be lovely if you would undress first, darling, as much for Lauren’s sake as for mine.”

“Frank…no…let me up,” begged Lauren.

After weeks of threats and teasing and cajoling, Frank was going to have his threesome. However much she had resigned herself to it, Lauren felt herself failing the test. She could not consummate the ménage a trois, and now she struggled furiously to get out of the bed. Her wiggles and evasions, however, had the most startling effect on Connors. Physically dominating Lauren turned him on and his erection returned -- not only to its original vigor, but to a tumescence and girth that Lauren had not experienced before. The more he humped against her asscheeks to keep her pinned, the harder he got. In much less than a minute, Lauren’s ready passage was filled in the most satisfying way.

Rachel had undressed hurriedly, her eyes on the two lovers, seeking her own point of entry. The suit was an encumbrance and the pantyhose brought a moment of delay that Rachel thought damnable, but Connors certainly enjoyed. The young woman pulled the pantyhose from her feet and practically jumped into the bed.

By this time, Lauren was moaning in pleasure and humiliation. Connors delivered long deep strokes with his cock, and she gripped him with her cunt as tightly as she could. Her orgasm was again within reach. Then Connors used his hand and thigh to push Lauren’s thigh open and expose Rachel directly to Ground Zero.

The girl needed no coaxing. She would have just as readily sucked his cock or eaten her cunt with gusto, but since his cock was inaccessible to her, Rachel’s practiced tongue and lips fell directly on Lauren. The swollen lips and clitoris that Connors had so carefully understimulated now received the most expert attention that Lauren could have desired. Besides, Lauren enjoyed what she had never been granted before: a pussy filled with a hard, slippery cock while her clit was covered by a hot, darting tongue.

Freshly thrown in the battle, Rachel was barely warmed up when Lauren moaned and reached the spasm of climax. The ripple of orgasm through Lauren’s vaginal walls excited Frank and sustained his erection, and Lauren’s moans urged Rachel on to increased efforts. Thus, Lauren’s first orgasm that morning brought on her second, and the second was followed quickly by a third. Fifteen minutes earlier Lauren was wondering how she could come, now she begged Rachel and Connors to stop and let her recover.

At Lauren’s request for a truce, Connors climbed over her limp body and then onto Rachel, whose younger, more clearly muscled rump became his new rest. Rachel took him into her pussy without preliminaries: after sucking the clit and pussy lips at Ground Zero, and licking the supercharged semen and cunt juice from their coupling, the girl was already in paradise.

“Good job, darling,” he whispered in her ear. “Lauren is glad to have a girl of your talents join us. And so am I.”

Then Connors started up on the same task as he had with Lauren, to give her enough hard cock to bring her to the brink, but to take advantage of the rear entry to keep her from frontal stimulation and climax. This took a bit longer than he expected because Rachel was just too tight. However hot and wet she was, her pussy was nearly that of a virgin on her wedding night, or on the second night of the honeymoon.

He helped her up onto all fours, and then he slipped inside of her again noting the way his cocked filled and opened her entire passage. Her back was smoothly muscled and her hips flared into his hands as he knelt behind her. Her rosebud beckoned, and he began to imagine what it would be like to take her back there; but he gave her more time to heighten her arousal before her led her to that undiscovered country.

Ugh…ugh…ugh. She grunted as she stuffed herself.

He let her experiment with the sensation of moving her entire torso forward and back and thus controlling the way her body was emptied and filled. For Rachel, this process was the most natural by far: she was using a man’s cock to stimulate her own female equipment. This is what she had wanted when she first started having sex with men, but it had proved elusive. There had been premature ejaculations, wilted erections, and moribund rutting in the missionary position. This was the first time she had a hard cock set in a position where she could use it.

“Get yourself good and hot, sweetie. I’m almost ready to take you up this tight ass of yours. And Lauren’s gonna get you all lubed up.”

“Frank, she’s not ready yet. Has she ever had a man before?” Lauren could see that Rachel was tight and had to labor to take him in and out. Rachel was enjoying herself but it was difficult to imagine using the even tighter opening in the rear.

“She’s as ready as she’ll ever be. You do the jelly for her, babe.”

Up on all fours, Rachel’s back hole was within easy reach and unencumbered. Lauren spread a large dollop of jelly around the surface and then went back to the tube for more.

“Get it way up inside,” he said. “Give the girl a taste.”

As Lauren tentatively probed with her finger tip, Rachel sprang forward to escape the attention on her ass; but Connors leaned steadily into her and flattened her tummy into the bed. In another moment, he had both of her wrists and pinned them to her sides.

“Lauren, no!” Rachel pleaded. “Why are you doing this for him?”

“It’s just sex, girl.” For Lauren it was too complicated to explain under any circumstances and definitely not now.

Lauren’s job was now much harder: the ass cheeks were clenched to protect the hole and whole rump had become a moving target.

Gradually, however, Rachel’s horniness overtook her fear. Her pussy, which had been so filled and satisfied, was empty; her hands at her sides could not reach her sex; and there was no pillow to hump or squeeze between her legs. Above all, her face was drenched with semen and pussy juice enhanced with Connors chemical lure. Minute by minute they seeped in through every olfactory membrane and drove her wild. Her sex was open, her nipples hard, and her clit engorged and sensitive.

Soon, she was treating the stimulation around her anus as her immediate salvation instead of an assault. Her hips flexed and she moved to meet Lauren’s finger. Then she was up again on all fours swinging her torso forward and back fucking herself up the ass on one slim digit. Once she found her rhythm, the finish line was in sight. The climaxed with a spasm that clenched every muscle in her pelvis and pumped Lauren’s finger so hard that she instinctively pulled it out.

Connors took his cue when Lauren retreated. Though lubed, Rachel’s hole had never been stretched. She had never learned to take two or more fingers, and she was still afraid when she felt the knob of his penis push against her.

“No…stop! Aargh!” she screamed as she felt he was tearing her apart. He pushed in further and further never stopping for her to adjust or to calm herself. Her pain and fear fed on each other until her sphincter tried to clamp shut entirely against the wedge. When Rachel’s face was filled with agony and tears burst from her eyes almost directly from the pressure up her rectum, then Connors tipped the two to them together and then rolled onto the bed.

He used one arm to pull open Rachel’s thighs.

“Time to learn how to eat pussy. I could give you some hints, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Lauren looked down at the girl’s wet and ragged sex and thought for a moment she would vomit in the bed. I can’t do this, she thought; but now Rachel’s cunt was also filled with the mix of chemicals that had aroused Lauren and she felt only a growing excitement as she inched forward. If she descended into a cesspool and discovered the scent of a lilac grove, she could not have been more surprised.

And so Rachel, painfully impaled on Connors cock, the cock that she could barely stuff into her pussy before, Rachel began to feel the ministrations of Lauren’s hungry mouth and lips. At first, there were only small eddies of pleasure to flow against the torrent of white hot pain. Lauren was inexperienced and she had not idea how to approach Rachel’s clit which was already engorged and sensitized beyond the ordinary threshold of pleasure; but Connors helped the Rachel along by lightly cupping her breasts and running his hands on her less sensitive flanks and outer thighs. The pleasure became bearable; then the pain became bearable; and then the pleasure and the pain were indistinguishable.

Rachel still remembers how the pain blended into the background and she recovered a sense of herself and what she was doing. What she remembers is that every muscle and sinew, every bit of her womb and entrails was gripping and pleasuring Connors through her rectum and anus. And the motherfucker was enjoying it all.