trippin 43

trippin 43

The professor took me to a small Italian restaurant where he was obviously known, if not well known.  “So tell me what is good her?” I asked.

“Everything is wonderful.  I know that sounds like a commercial, but it really is.  What do you like to eat?” he asked.

“I’m not sure to be honest.  I like things with beef and cheese in them for sure.  Other than that, I have no real idea,” I said.  “I don’t think I like chicken.”

“Then try the Lasagna, it is excellent and god knows you can’t go wrong with Lasagna,” he said.

“Then that’s what I’ll have with a small salad, no bread.  I have been eating like a horse lately,” I explained.

“Fair enough,” he said.  He studied the menu while waiting for our waitress.  After the waitress came and left he asked me.  “What did you think of the modeling session?”

“I really have no memory of it at all.  Hold on.”  I used the smart phone to pull up my on line entry.  “At the time, I said that it was fun and harmless.  I also said that I loved the drawing I took as payment.”

“Would you be willing to do it again?” he asked.

“You didn’t have to buy me dinner to ask that,” I said smiling.  “Sure why not, it was fun and like I said harmless.”

“Would you be willing to model for me.  I would like to do my version of the Mona Lisa with you playing Mona,” he admitted.

“Is your Mona going to be nude?” I asked.

“Most likely yes,” he admitted.

“Good,” I said with a smile.

“Would you be willing to start after dinner?” he asked.

“You do remember no hanky panky,” I said.

“Right no hanky, and certainly no panky,” he agreed.

“Good, then I will pose for you,” I said.  “But after dinner.  I’m hungry now that I smell the food.”

An hour later I was in Phelps’ apartment sitting cowboy style on a metal chair.  The chair back covered my breasts but it was obvious that I was very naked behind that chair back.  Phelps was sketching like crazy, while I smiled for him.  I had no idea what he was looking for, so I just sat there being bored.  Funny thing about not having many memories, the ones I had were on a loop and ran over and over.  My dad was in some of them, others were of my childhood pets of all things.  I suppose it would make a psychic crazy to read my mind.

I tried to remain quiet and not move, but I’m sure my boredom showed.  Phelps finally decided to take a break.  I slipped the black dress over my body but didn’t put my underwear or bra back.

“So are you tired?” he asked.

“To be honest I’m bored more than anything,” I replied.

“Well since sex is out of the question, what would you like to do?” he asked.

“Actually it is getting late, I probably should be leaving,” I said.

“Even if we can’t have sex, you could spend the night.  I’m a first rate cuddler,” the professor said.

“I really need to wake up in my own bed.  It’s that memory thing,” I said.

“Okay, it’s just that you are so sexy, it is hard for me to let you go,” he said.

“It’s sweet of you to try to BS me Professor, but I know I’m no sexpot.  I might get laid because I’m easy, but I’m certainly not going to be anyone’s first choice,” I admitted.

“Oh, how easy are you?” he asked.

“When I am not sore from too much sex, I’m pretty easy to turn on and when I’m turned on, I just want to be liked,” I said.  It was the best I could do to explain myself.

“So, what turns you on?” he asked.

“Men who don’t need to ask that are a start,” I said with a laugh.  I had been standing while drinking a Coke from a small bottle at the time.  The professor kissed me and at the same time pushed me against the wall.

He broke the kiss and whispered to me, “So your pussy hurts.  What did you do to cause that?”

“To be honest,” I answered breathlessly, “I really don’t remember.”

“It must have really been something, since I’m sure that pussy isn’t tight.” he said.

“I doubt that it is, since I’m over forty,” I replied.

“Is your ass sore as well,” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered timidly.

“So somebody used and or abused you?” he asked.

“It seems so,” I replied.  “To be honest I didn’t make a note, so I’m not sure what happened.”

“So how is your mouth?” the professor asked.

“That is fine, but to be honest my stomach muscles still hurt.  I can’t get turned on because of them,” I said.

“Well how about a mercy blowjob then?” he asked.

I didn’t even answer, I just slipped to my knees in front of him.  I unzipped his yuppie trousers, then worked his semi hard cock out.  I could actually smell the precum as I began to lick it.  I felt his heart beat through his cock as I licked.  He was moaning and I just kept licking him.  It wasn’t sexual, but I was enjoying his discomfort as I worked on him slowly.  “Please suck me,” he said.  I ignored him as I continued to lick him with my wet tongue.   He was dripping cum but not anywhere near the amount that would follow.

“For god’s sake suck it,” he demanded.  He was actually begging me to suck his cock so I did.  I took it into my wet warm mouth.  I got the full stale taste of cock and it almost took my breath away.  I could tell his knees were weak as I sucked on it.  I also moved my mouth back and forth on his cock.  “Yes mouth fuck me.  I am going to cum for you.”

If I had my memory I would have expected what happened next.  He tried to drive his cock down my throat when he came.  I choked on cock and cum as he forcefully stroked my throat as he came.  I had no idea if I took it like that often, or if he was the first, but it scared the hell out of me.  Even so it felt good to see what it had done to him.  He was absolutely pussy whipped as my daddy had said when I was a teenager.  Funny the things I remembered.

“Please make a note of this,” he said as he left me at my door.  I told him not to come up.  I just wanted to get into bed alone.

Saturday morning after I checked the file and my list of last minute items for the experiment, I headed off to the store.  Actually I had to stop at three stores to get everything I needed.  I bought the most expensive thing last, since I couldn’t lock any of them onto the bike.

I didn’t get into the office until 10AM since I was in no hurry to get started.  I began by grinding corn in the coffee grinder.  When I had six pounds ground, I began mixing the mash.  The mash had no smell at that point, but when it started to ferment I had read that it would have a very strong and distinct smell.

One of the last minute things I bought was a digital postage scale from Office Depot.  With it, I could get accurate measurements.  I planned to mix mash in two buckets.  I put three pounds of ground corn in a bucket, I added three pounds of sugar, and then I added one gallon of very hot tap water.

I had purchased a paint mixer and the small drill from the home depot so mixing the mash was slow, but not back breaking work.  I followed with two gallons of cooler water as the mash got better mixed and easier to work.  When it was finished, I laid the side piece of a cardboard box over the top.  I had managed to cut a more or less square hole in the center.  Over that I put a paper towel.  After I had that done, I move it into the bathroom.    The bucket was about 3/4 full so it was heavy, so I had to be careful.  I repeated the same procedure with the second bucket.  

By 3PM I had what seemed to be over 6 gallons of mash. Before I added the final ingredient I checked to make sure the temperature of the mash was around 80 degrees.  When I was satisfied I added a couple of ounces of brewer’s  yeast to each barrel, then I turned on the exhaust fan and closed the door.  Before I rode the trike home I made a note on my schedule to come by every two days to stir the mash, check the bubbling, and evaluate the smell.

The smell thing worried me some, but I figured I wasn’t running a thousand gallons of mash, so the smell should not be over whelming.  The exhaust vent was not huge but it should get the carbon dioxide into the atmosphere in a steady flow.  I hoped that would minimize the volume to be diluted into the air at any one time.

I found out something very interesting.  Waiting for the mash to work off gave my days purpose.  I mean it had something to do with there being a definite schedule.  Something was going to  happen on day three, so I could point myself toward day three.  I’m sure that makes no sense, but I felt better because I didn’t feel so adrift.  

I went home and tried to find something to do.  I turned down an invitation to join a party at Jason and Marie’s house.  I didn’t remember the last one, I did know that my notes told me I was very uncomfortable after the last one.  It was obvious that I had a lot of sex and a great deal of it was rough sex.

“Lucy, this is Professor Phelps, I was calling to see if  you would pose for me again?” The phone message said.  “Please give me a call.”  The again part told me that I had done it before.  That and the note in my journal.  I was tempted to call him but decided not to bother.  If it was important to him, he would call again.  

I went through the history on my computer and found a site I visited often.  The site was a collection of adult movie clips.  Most like trailers, they were the best parts of the whole movie,  I suppose since they were taking orders for downloads of the full picture, they had to be.  I just watched the clips I didn’t care what the story line was.  I was pretty far into it when I realized the pain was gone.  The urgent need to sit on the toilet had been gone a couple of days as well.

I felt so much better that I decided to masturbate while watching the video clips.  I had no idea how rough and intense my last orgasms had been.  I could not believe that I had watched so many clips featuring anal intercourse.  I found that a little disconcerting.  I couldn’t imagine that I enjoyed it.  In my index of the file I found a reference to anal intercourse and the note was, ‘it hurts’.  Still there I was watching women who obviously didn’t find it painful at all.

I decided to try it again under controlled circumstances.  I found my vibrator.  It was shaped sort of like a penis, more like a bullet I think.  Anyway I lubricated it and my rectum well.  I slipped it inside and was surprised at how little it hurt going in.  It hurt some, but not so much that I would mention it in my notation this time.  It gave me a full feeling that I couldn’t remember feeling before.  I began to work it deeper inside me and realized that I was breathing very hard.  The pain was there but it was a deep pain and almost pleasurable.  I couldn’t help it, I came to the video image of a girl taking a cock twice the size of the vibrator in my ass.  The vibrator was all I could manage, but when I came it was gut wrenching.   I almost came again at the feeling of relief when I removed the vibrator.

When I managed to recover, I made a note in my journal.

About cindypress

sorry it is a mystery.
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11 Responses to trippin 43

  1. demitheus says:

    Anal sex can be very painful with the wrong person, and Glorious with the right one, most people unfortunetly experience with the wrong one first, It has to be slow and gentle, at least at first,
    most men tend to rush and ruin it for future encounters.

  2. cindypress says:

    It definitely takes some getting used to under any conditions.

  3. jack says:

    Sex is the most basic instinct, I guess that is why 80 year old men want 20 year old women. Some say it is because of the pleasure others say is to guarantee survival of the species. Me i think for the power and conquest the rest just fall into place after that.

  4. cindypress says:

    i think there are lots of sub text going on in every encounter. No two people are ever equal in any relationship someone is always on top so to speak.

    • Walt says:

      Generally speaking, I think some of it is women my age are no longer interested in sex. In my generation, and before, many women only had sex because it was a “marital duty”. Once they went through menopause they figured they have done their duty and quit. The younger generation is different.

      However, I was reading (a few years ago) that some ladies in the 70’s and up, who still enjoyed good sex, would look for young men (20-30’s) because they could remain stiff longer and last longer than their counterparts.

      I think the popularity of Anal sex is more recent than my generation. I never knew or thought about it until in my 50’s. I couldn’t get into it because to me it was the equivalent of licking the walls of an outhouse. (Yes I’m old enough to remember and have used them). After all, it is a garbage dump for the human body. However, to each their own said the farmer when he kissed his pig.

  5. KO says:

    I’d agree also, that anal sex would be uncomforable, even painful with the wrong partner. I’d also guess that if some of these men were the recipient, at least once, it would change their perspective and approach as well as a lot of the other dynamics for sure!!
    I think my attraction to anal sex has been that it’s viewed as “forbidden or taboo”, or at least it was when I was growing up. It seem to be much more mainstream, or accepted, these days.

    • cindypress says:

      i expect the fear from the taboo makes a woman tense up which makes it even worse. At least it was for me. My muscles were in the fight or flight mode I determined on looking back. I never got completely comfortable mentally with it. There might be a life lesson in that. Lots of things are more painful because we resist them. I am talking mental as well as physical.

  6. rayold says:

    PDF updated like usual
    and like usual the link: http://www.fun-in-nature.com
    for txt and rtf: (thanks to Walt) : http://www.narimasu.net/stories/carniegirl.htm

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