"First"  (rev. July 2000)

H. Jekyll


	It happens when both people are ready for it, even if one 
doesn't yet know it, but some luck is involved as well.  She had worked 
in the department less than six months, cultivating a - correct - 
impression of being organized and motivated.  Their relations were 
cordial but polite, and a bit formal.  One day when no students or other 
faculty were around for some reason, their talk had unexpectedly turned 
to pornography.  

	"I really can't see how anyone could read it,"  she had said.  

	Marie, the obsessive cleaning lady, had found a porn book in a 
trash can in the men's restroom, and had brought it to her office to 
complain.  She went on about students in general, about how she couldn't 
believe the things they did, and about how he, who had dropped by, should 
tell the Dean.   He was the department chair and had no intention of doing that.  
After Marie had left he had tossed it in the trash.  She had fished it out 
and read through it.  

	"Because?"

	"It's so dumb!  People can't do things like that, they don't 
look like that, there's no plot, they aren't endowed like that, it's so, 
well, how could anyone find it sexy?"  

	He liked the way she stressed the word "endowed."  It showed 
what she was thinking but not saying.  She had, after all, read it.

	"Well..."  He let the word hang in the air a moment.  "Porn is 
mostly written by and for people who are horny anyway.  It doesn't have 
to be very artful or believable to work for them.  But ..." Again he let 
the word ride.  "... there is some very nice porn.  Call it erotica if 
you want. The difference is the quality."

	"But it's just sex!  What's redeeming about it?"

	"It needs redemption?"

	"Now, you know what I mean.  Do you think if you brought me some 
quote 'well written erotica' that I could find it interesting?"

	He didn't answer for a second, then said:  "You know, as your 
supervisor I really don't think I should have an opinion on that."

	"But seriously..."

	"But seriously, trouble like this is something I don't need.  
I'll tell you what I'll do, though.  I can get you some better written 
erotica.  If you'll write a note saying that you asked me to bring it to 
you I will.  You might or might not enjoy it.  Everyone is different.  
If you want to talk about it later that'll be your call.  I won't bring 
it up or embarrass you."

	Of course she wrote the note.  Then she stared after him while 
he walked back to his office.  He got on line, printed off one of the 
very short stories by the writer named "deirdre," about a young woman 
who stumbles onto a friend's hidden sexuality and discovers vast 
yearnings within herself, and walked it back to her, all within about 
ten minutes.  When her mouth actually opened in surprise, his penis 
swelled.  

	"This is an interesting, intimate little story, almost 
minimalist."  

	He wrote down the web address and gave it to her, then left.  
The next few days he read her note a dozen times, while he waited for 
the thing he had ordered, a used, hardcover copy of "The Story of O."  
He handed it to her when no one else was around.  

	"This is better known, and a bit meatier than the 'deirdre' 
story.  We once had a friend we lent a copy to, whose husband tore it up 
when he caught her reading it.  You don't need to return it."  

=============================================

	How does it happen that one is introduced to something she'd 
never really thought about, but is then consumed by it as though she had 
been waiting for it all along?  She'd read the deirdre story quickly, 
then slowly, had folded it up to take home, then had unfolded it to read  
again.  At home she opened it again and read it surrepticiously.  She 
fantasized that she was that young woman.  She didn't talk with him 
about it, and found herself wanting to avoid him.  When he handed her 
"O" a few days later she barely thanked him and shoved it into her 
purse.  

	After he left she started reading it in the office, then sneaked 
it home in her purse.  She read it in the bathroom, in the living room 
after her husband was asleep, took it back to the office to read at 
lunch.  She masturbated to the first whipping scene.  She hadn't 
masturbated since she'd married.  She liked sex, liked sex with her 
husband, but she'd never been obsessed with it before.  Now she was 
thinking of it all the time, at night, during the day, imagining 
experiences she'd never had.  Late at night she logged onto porn story 
sites and devoured them, masturbating again.  She was chronically tired.  
She had no one to talk to about this.  The only one who knew anything 
didn't know the half of it, and he never brought it up.

	So finally, after just a few weeks really, she stepped through 
the door of his office.  She thought they could talk because it was 
after Fall graduation, and while the students and most faculty were gone 
the offices were officially open.  No one else was around.  

	He smiled when he saw her, like he always did, but she was slow 
to get her words out and the smile became quizzical.  

	"I did read the stories.  They really were, ah, nicely written."  

	She didn't know quite what to say.   Certainly not that she was 
always horny and couldn't get enough stories, that she was considering 
things she'd never thought about before.  She did want him to know, but 
didn't know how to start the conversation.  It had been hard enough just 
to come here to bring up the subject.  She had almost failed.  There was 
a long pause.  

	He broke the silence "I liked them too. That's why I chose 
them."  Some more silence.  "There's more that you want to say."

	"Oh, no, nothing really."

	"You came in here just to say that you liked the stories?"

	She shrugged and made an embarrassed smile.  She was starting to 
wish that she could sink into the floor.

	She saw him move his eyes away from her, as though he were 
considering something.   He looked back.  

	"Then I have one question.  Did they arouse you?"

	She found she was holding her breath.  Finally, "Well, yes.  
They did."

	She surprised herself by admitting this.  It made talking about 
it easier, and it also made her think of her body and her proximity to 
him.

	"But, uh, in reality the whipping and branding and, ah, 
everything was a bit much.  I don't think people could really do that, 
not to that extent, not ... you know."  She trailed off, waving her 
right hand in a vague way.

	"But that's just fantasy.  Real people get excited by a lot of 
things, but they can be more vanilla things, too, sometimes barely 
sexual.  Little things can be doors into larger arenas."  He was talking 
like a professor, but she didn't notice.  She needed him to talk about 
it.

	"Like for example?"  She was holding onto the door for support.  

	"Like for example?  Do you really want an answer to that?"  

	For a moment she just stood there, her eyes round and dilated.  
Then she swallowed and nodded.  Please say something nasty.  He rose and 
walked over to her.  She almost panicked, but he stopped a few feet 
away.  

	"Like for example, if you were just to go into the bathroom, 
take off your bra and panties, and bring them to me, I would find it 
very exciting, and I think that you might, too."

	"Bring you my bra and panties."  She was barely whispering.  She 
had to exhale and breathe in again before she could continue, and then 
she tried to make a joke of it, to sound lighthearted.  "No, I don't 
think so."  

	"That's fine.  But then let's stop this conversation."  He sat 
back down.

=============================================

	She walked straight to the restroom, into a stall, and removed 
them.  She was shaking.  This wasn't like her.  It wasn't like anything 
she'd ever done.  Then she walked back toward his office, holding the 
brassiere and panties in a tight ball in case she should run into 
anyone, alternately fighting ghastly smiles and feeling on the edge of 
tears.  When she got to the office she tried to muster a smirk as she 
tossed the wad onto his desk.  She said: 

	"Merry Christmas, big boy.  This make you happy?"  But she was 
stiff and didn't know what to do with herself while she waited for his 
response.

	At first he just looked back and forth between the items and 
her.  He had a somber expression.  He picked up the bra after a moment
and held it in front of his face while he looked at her, then he bit one 
cup right where her nipple would have been.  She almost gasped, felt his 
teeth on her, felt a wave of desire.  He looked at her the whole 
time.  Then he picked up the panties.  He held them to his nose and 
inhaled deeply, while she leaned on the door and again tried to remember 
to breathe.  It was so very quiet in there.  

	"I want you to close the door."  

	She just stared, seemed incapable of moving.  

	"Do it now, please."  

	She fumbled at the heavy old door, not a hard one to handle, and 
ended up slamming it closed.  After the reverberations stopped he rose 
and walked over to her again.  He came in close this time, then had a 
hand behind her back and one at her chin, and then somehow they were 
kissing though she wasn't sure exactly how it had happened.  She had let 
his tongue in right away and was sucking on it.  He was playing with her 
breasts through her blouse, tracing soft circles on them with his 
fingers.  She was against the door.  Now he was talking.  

	"I'm going to do some things to you.  You won't like all of 
them, but you'll let me do them anyway.  Right?"   She just nodded.

	"I'm going to give you some tests.  No one knows about us.  This 
isn't happening.  If you want to stop it'll really not happen.  We'll go 
back to how we were.  But if you do what I say there's a world of desire 
waiting for us.  Are you ready?"  She nodded again.

	"Put your hands back against the door, over your head, and don't 
move them."  She did it.  

	He unbuttoned her blouse then took her nipples between thumbs 
and forefingers and squeezed as hard as he could.  She gasped, closed 
her mouth and her eyes, made little squeaking noises in her throat, but 
held still.  He squeezed for almost a minute.  After several seconds she 
started banging her rear against the door and shaking her head from side 
to side, but she kept her arms in place.  

	He stopped.  She was breathing fast and her face had gone red.  
He raised his hands to hold her arms in place while he kissed her 
deeply, then he bent to suck softly on her breasts, lick the swollen 
nipples, nibble on her white skin, after which knelt in front of her to 
kiss her belly, tongue her naval, give her little bites.  

	He unsnapped and unzipped her slacks and pulled them down.  He 
made her spread her legs.  Because her pants were around her ankles she 
couldn't spread them straight out, so she had to hold her legs in a 
diamond shape.  It was an ungraceful pose, and she had to stick her 
knees out and lean back against the door to hold it.  

	He put his face up into her dark, but sparse hair and sucked on 
her pussy lips.  She wanted to put her hands down on his head, but he 
slapped her hard on her thighs and made her put them back.  The slaps 
left red handprints.  He half rose for a second and whispered into her 
ear:  

	"Do only what I say."  

	He put a thumb up into her vagina, slippery and reddened, and 
worked her while he nibbled on the insides of her thighs.   She was 
breathing very hard, her breath coming out as high-pitched whimpers.  
She had never been so hot.  

	"Now kneel down in front of me."

	She knelt at his feet while he undid his slacks, and pulled them 
and his underwear down almost to his knees.  She looked a little off to 
the side, rather than at his penis, and saw that one of his thighs was 
badly scarred.  Then she looked at his penis, which waved right in front 
of her, much darker than his belly, curving upward from his almost 
straight pubic hairs.  She stared at it as though it might bite her.

	"Now you take the next step," he said.  

	With his right hand he pulled down his penis so it was pointing 
at her, while he put his left behind her head and pulled slightly.  Not 
enough pull to force her forward, just enough to show what he wanted.

	She wasn't an idiot.  She knew what it meant to kneel down in 
front of a man's dick.  She swallowed twice, licked her lips.  How long 
had she been breathing so shallowly?  

	"Take it in your hand."  

	She took it in her right hand.  It was very warm;   the top side 
where she pressed it down felt bony.  She was looking straight at the 
hole, which held a tiny drop of glistening fluid, and now she was aware 
of a musky smell coming from - she wasn't sure where.  But she'd never 
noticed it with her husband.  She moved in closer and breathed it in 
through both her nose and mouth.  Again.

	"Now pet my balls."  

	He wasn't forcing her to commit all at once but was giving her 
easy commands that led to one conclusion.  She took his balls, first 
linking her left thumb and forefinger around the sack above them, then 
sliding her palm and fingers over the whole sack.  The hair was almost 
silky.  She felt his testicles move on their own, at which she almost jumped, 
and a shiver went all the way through her.

	"Take it in your mouth."  

	She stared at it for a moment, then moved up to it, placed her 
lips on the head and licked it softly.  It was slightly bitter and sour.  
She moved back, then took it again.  After a few licks the sour taste 
was gone.  The musky smell was stronger down here.

	He was caressing her hair, pulling with very slight pressure.  

	"Take it in deeper, now."  She did.  She began moving her head 
back and forth over the penis, but he stopped her.  

	"No.  Don't use your mouth as just a hole.  Do this.  Make a 
tight seal with your lips.  I don't want to feel your teeth.  Now suck.  
Yes, that's right.  Take it in as far as you can.  Keep sucking.  Use 
your tongue and the roof of your mouth and your lips and your cheeks.  
Yes.  Yes.  Oh, that's right.  Just move your head slowly back until 
only your lips and tongue are in contact, then take it all in again.  Do 
it again.  Tickle my balls while you do it.  That's good.  Keep doing 
it."

	This wasn't at all like the times she'd mouthed her husband's 
penis during foreplay.  It was much more intense, with sensations she 
hadn't had before.  She had never done anything so dirty.  She tasted 
the rubbery head and felt the soft skin on the shaft with her lips and 
tongue.  The penis was meaty and hot.  She hadn't really known they 
throbbed so.  She was looking straight into his belly and hair, smelling 
that smell.  She made some sounds, little  "mmph-like" noises, while he 
was silent except for his breathing and the occasional instruction. 
There was no other sound on the floor.  She wanted him to take her to 
the couch and fuck her but was afraid he'd want to ejaculate into her 
mouth instead.  She was right.

	He stopped her, using his hands on her head, grabbing her hair 
firmly.  

	"Now you're going to finish me.  You're going to make me cum."  
She started to pull back but he held her head.  

	"Look at me.  Look at me."  She looked up into his face.  "We 
won't get this chance again.  If you stop, then get up and walk away.  
It's over -- permanently.  You'll always regret what you missed.  But if 
you stay you do what I say."  

	He took his hands away from her head, and she didn't move away, 
but her eyes had become watery and red.  She sucked him in deeper again.  
He stopped her and made her hold his penis in deep while he talked.  

	"You're going to suck me until I cum.  But don't swallow it.  
Not at first.  Hold it in your mouth until I'm finished, then show it to 
me on your tongue.  Then swallow it all."

	She didn't move away, didn't move at all for a minute.  Her eyes 
teared more.  She looked down so he wouldn't see.  Her nose ran a little 
and she snuffled.  She really didn't know if she was still excited, but 
she was afraid she'd be sick.  Then she made a resolve and started 
sucking more vigorously.  His penis grew a bit wider and meatier and she 
felt it pulsating more.  He put his hands to her head again and held her 
head while he moved his penis in deep, then back.  

	"Keep sucking," he whispered.  

	She felt the penis moving more, not at all like a hose, as she 
had always assumed, but like its own living thing, and then he gasped 
and moved his hips and it shot hot spurts of snot into her mouth.

	Not snot like she'd ever known, though.  This was hot and ropy, 
and it tasted faintly of something like clorox.  The first spurt hit her 
in the back of the throat and she coughed.  Then she gagged while lesser 
spurts came only to her tongue.  She made a noise showing she was about 
the vomit.  

	"Hold it," he said between breaths, making his only groaning 
sound, all the while holding her head again.  "Keep sucking, lightly."  

	He was done in a few seconds, but held his penis in her mouth 
while her gorge rose and fell.  Only her sucking saved her.  Finally he 
pulled out.  

	"Show it to me."  She stuck out her tongue, covered with milky 
fluid, almost losing it at that point.  The taste penetrated her nose, 
her sinuses, covered her whole mouth.  "Now, swallow.  Again.  Again.  
Keep it down.  That's good."  Swallowing helped.

	Her eyes were wet and her nose ran again.  She kept swallowing 
and opening and closing her mouth to expel the taste.  No luck.  She 
knelt in front of him while he pulled up his pants, tucking in his 
shirt, then fastening and zipping his fly and buckling his belt.  He 
pulled her up and did the same to her.  She wondered what this meant.  
Something had passed.  She couldn't look at him.  She didn't know what 
she wanted.  He stared at her for a minute then opened the door and led 
her to the hall.  

	"You have some thinking to do, about where we're going.  It is 
up to you.  When you make a decision, come talk with me."  

	He went back to his desk, looked at her for a moment, then 
turned to his computer.  She had been dismissed.

====================================

	Back in her office she fidgeted, sighed, cried.  She was glad no 
one else was around.  She couldn't have stood it.  She couldn't get rid 
of the taste, the smell.  Every time she blinked she saw the penis 
leading from her mouth to his lower belly.  The feel of it kept 
intruding.  The smell and taste of semen, though, were everywhere.  She 
couldn't believe the pungency of it.  Anyone would know what she'd done.

	She went into the restroom and washed her mouth out with water, 
then drank some, but it didn't help.  She pushed two fingers to the back 
of her throat, but now that she wanted to she couldn't throw up.  She 
went back to her office.  After a bit she walked to the soft drink 
machine, then went to the restroom where she gargled again and again 
with diet Dr. Pepper, until finally the taste went away.

	In her office she sat perfectly still for a few minutes, her 
hands clenched on her desk.  When she turned to look at the clock, her 
breasts moved and her nipples brushed against the cloth of her blouse.  
Then she started crying in earnest, dabbing tissue after tissue to her 
eyes.  Oh what have I done?  How could I do that?  And he just pushed me 
out.  Why?  

	She had to confront him, but walking around the hall to his 
office her nerve oozed away and she went ever more slowly.  Finally she 
was at his door, red eyed, shuffling.  He was working at his computer, 
a fern and some purple plant behind him on the window seat.   He looked up 
the moment she came through the door, not as focused as he had appeared.  
She wanted to say all the right things, but she started to cry again.  

	"How could you?  How could you...?"  

	He said, "Shut the door."  

	She just stood there, so he got up, walked past her, and closed it himself.  

	He took her shoulders in his hands and turned her toward him.  
"Look at me.  Do it."  It took her a minute to look up.  He was staring 
into her eyes.  He had a soft and somewhat sad expression, none of the 
leering she thought she'd find.  

	"How could you make me do that?" she asked.  

	"I didn't.  It was in your hands.  You could have stopped any 
time.  You wanted to do what we did, don't be dishonest.  I just took 
things further than you thought you were willing to go, but you were so 
wonderful and willing."  

	He stared into her eyes.  She looked down again, ashamed, then 
felt his face brushing the top of her hair.  She didn't move.  He was 
close, smelling her perfume, then kissing her hair, then her eyes, then 
her cheek, then her mouth.

	After a few minutes:  "But you couldn't wait to get rid of me 
afterward."

	"No. I had to let you know that I am in charge when we are 
together, whatever we do.  And making you leave made the point.  I want 
to do all sorts of things with you, to you.  I do.  But you have to do 
what I say, always."

	"Yes, uh, master."  Trying to make another joke of things.

	"That's enough of that nonsense.  I don't want this to be like 
bad porn."  He kissed her again, as softly as he could.  "Anyway, I 
didn't want to send you out.  I wanted to do this."  

	He bent to unsnap and unzip her slacks.  She went all goosey in 
her belly.  He pulled her pants down and helped her step out of them.  
They were tight and it would have helped if he'd taken her shoes off 
first.  He unbuttoned her blouse and helped her out of it, too.  This 
was the first time she'd been completely naked in front of anyone but 
her husband, and she was surprised that she wasn't shy.  

	She watched while he removed his own clothes.  She thought he 
might make her kneel down again, but instead he lay her down on the 
couch and knelt between her legs.  Her pussy lips were large, and now 
engorged.  He sucked both lips entirely into his mouth before moving to 
just the left side, then to the right side.  He moved up to her 
clitoris, and sucked it into his mouth.  She whimpered, such a delicious 
sound.  It made his penis surge again.  He moved his hands up to her 
breasts, kneaded her nipples, moved his nails softly around the breasts 
just outside the aureoles, brought his nails softly down her abdomen to 
induce chill bumps, then pushed two fingers into her vagina.  Her eyes 
were almost completely closed and swollen, her mouth open a little, and 
she was breathing in loud sighs and was moving her pussy against his 
face.

	He put his left thumb into her vagina, which was very slick.  
After he pulled it out he lifted her hips a bit with his other hand, 
found her anus, and pushed his thumb into her.  She grimaced and grunted 
a little but didn't try to stop him or move away.  He used this grip to 
hold her still, his face above her sex, until she stopped trying to move 
against his face.  

	"Stay still.  Hold yourself still or I won't go on."

	She groaned.  "Okay, I will, I will."  

	He continued sucking her nether lips while she worked to hold 
her hips still.  He moved his thumb in and out of her ass, which must 
have hurt, as it made her go rigid and stop breathing for a moment.  
Then he moved his tongue back to her clitoris.  She was delirious and 
made more grunting and little squeaking noises.  Finally she could stand 
it no longer and moved her sex against his mouth.  He rose from her.  

	"No pleasure for those who don't follow orders."

	"Oh please, please.  I'll try.  I'm trying."

	"Say you'll be good.  A good little girl."  

	"I will.  I'll be your good little girl.  I will."  

	When she said that the electric vibrations began, and she knew 
that she would orgasm in a moment no matter what he did.

	He held her down and licked her clitoris again and she came 
instantly.  She cried out so loudly that he looked around, in case 
anyone else should hear her.  He climbed on her and put his penis into 
her while she was still moaning, and started to fuck her.  She was still 
cuming, still gasping, and when he began fucking in earnest she just 
turned her head back and forth and panted:  

	"Oh, no darling, I can't, I can't."  

	But she could, and did.  And once again before he was finished.  
Then they lay together on the couch, he on top.  The room was spinning 
around her and she was holding onto him to keep from falling.

==========================================

	At home she sizzled.  She was hesitant around her husband at 
first, but then got kittenish.  She dropped several things while making 
dinner.  When he commented wryly, she said:  

	"I'm such a bad girl.  Are you going to spank me?"  

	He grinned, whomped her on the ass with the newspaper, then put 
it in the recycling bin and went back to the 6-p.m. news.

	After dinner she curled up next to him on the futon, while he 
watched "The Simpsons."  Homer and Marge were naked in bed, and it 
turned her on.  She began to tickle his crotch.  

	"Someone's sexy," he said, and started playing back.  

	In bed, she said "I want to try something different," and she 
went down to his penis and took it into her mouth the new way, but after a 
few minutes he pulled her up, lay her down on her side, and fucked her 
from behind.  He fucked well and his penis was somewhat larger than the 
other's.  They used a vibrator and she orgasmed again, but it wasn't the 
same.

	Later that night she lay quietly until he was asleep.  She crept 
out to the dark living room.  Even now the feel and taste of this 
afternoon stayed with her.  She pulled off her panties.  She stuck her 
left thumb into her mouth and sucked on it, moving it in and out of her 
mouth, while she frigged herself with two fingers of her right hand.  

