No complaints.
But I had work that needed to get done, and a semi-deadline of early September when I was to have some detailed outlines of my dissertation topic in the hands of my doctoral committee. I hadn’t been making much progress on those outlines since that first night of strip poker with Carol.
I had been the first to suggest that we live together. Carol had a small apartment. I had a two floor, two bedroom apartment. She would save rent and could even have her own bedroom, although I conveniently never mentioned that possibility to her.
Carol had repeatedly assured me that she respected my need to get on with my research and writing. Because of that, she thought it best that we continue to live in our respective apartments.
No complaints.
What I needed was time to myself to gather my thoughts and put pen to paper. A morning or afternoon of writing would not be sufficient. The task at hand would take whole days and sometimes a good part of the night. And, it wasn’t just the writing, editing, and re-writing. There were hours of reading and research required before organized thoughts and commentary could be reduced to writing.
My plan was to grind it out during the week and maybe part of the weekend, and take some time on the weekends to rest, recuperate and refocus.
Carol had started looking for work. To my surprise, despite a counseling opportunity in the local school system working with teachers, she had turned down the offer in order to work part-time in the college department from which she received her graduate degree. Working for one of her former professors, Carol would assist doctoral candidates as they worked their way through a maze of academic and writing requirements.
In the meantime, although Carol may have indicated that she respected my need to have time to myself to do research and writing, she did not practice what she preached. As the early summer progressed, she interrupted my writing and research with an increasing need to be pleasured.
Carol would often just appear at my apartment door and use her female powers of persuasion to get me to give up my work in favor of a few hours of sexual pleasure.
If she stayed overnight, which was often, much of the morning would be spent fucking and sucking, thereby eliminating a portion of the day within which I might have accomplished some reading or writing.
No complaints.
Sometimes Carol would just undress and stand behind me while I tried to write, brushing her soft tits and hard nipples along the back of my head and neck and whispering dirty thoughts in my ear. Other times, as I tried to read or write, Carol would slowly undress in front of me, making it very clear that she wanted my dick in her hungry slit.
Mmmm. Continue reading or writing, or slide my stiff boner into a beautiful woman’s pussy? What should I do?
More often than not, at such times, Carol would be so turned on and in need of attention that we would not waste time walking upstairs to the bedroom. We fucked long and hard using what was immediately available to us; the couch, a chair, the floor, the stairs, or even the kitchen. Including toys that Carol had brought with her, and toys that were everyday items found in the house.
At times, we might enjoy only an hour or so of hot, rough, pounding, loud sex, with each of us getting soaked in pussy juice, sweat, and cum. Other times, I might slowly bring her to climax after climax, taking two or even three hours, while Carol’s hot love hole and talented mouth would drain me of all of my bodily fluids.
Despite my need to get thoughts and information down on paper in some readable form, sex with Carol was becoming a daily or even twice daily activity.
No complaints.
The academic department where Carol worked was known for its innovations. Video tape had recently become available to the public, albeit an expensive item and in limited form and quantity. Her department had bought four video cameras and related equipment, and made them available to faculty, staff and students, all of whom were encouraged to experiment with the new medium. At that time, no one knew what the potential for video might be in an educational setting.
Carol called me on a weekday afternoon early in the summer. She had signed out one of the video cameras and taken it home.
“Come over and we can play with it.”
I could hear the sultry excitement in her voice.
Carol had once described her desire for sex as an addiction. Maybe it was. I would leave that determination to others who were above my pay grade.
What I did know was that Carol had almost an insatiable need for physical pleasure. It wasn’t an every minute of every day need. But to say that Carol desired bodily pleasure from a variety of sexual activities several times a week, if not daily, would not be an exaggeration.
Was she insatiable? It was my personal experience that even after two or three intense, lengthy orgasms, Carol still seemed to need and crave more.
One expression of Carol’s need for sexual pleasure came in the form of exhibitionism. Sometimes it was the simple act of having a picture taken of her naked body, something which she had done many times with the married photographer in her undergraduate college days. Or, it was the pleasure she derived from exposing her naked body to others or having others watch as she participated in some form of sexual pleasure with another person or group of persons.
As she once explained, just having someone stare at her exposed pussy was enough to cause her spine to tingle, chills to race through her body, her nipples to harden, goose bumps to form on her arms and nipples, and her pussy juices to flow. Spreading her legs and revealing her wet slit and swollen pussy lips to a viewer, always caused a warm, pleasurable sensation to pulse through her body; a sensation strong enough to make her arch her back and neck, her body shiver, and her eyelids lower in a steamy, seductive stare. Seeing the lust and animalistic desire for her body in another person’s eyes as they stared at her dripping hole, did nothing but amplify her pleasure.