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From: Charles Dodgson <chaz_dodgson@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} PLANNING_j [C.Dodgson] (MF,MM,Ff;a,o,v;rom)
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Date: Fri,  8 Apr 2005 03:10:01 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


Before most of us are even aware that we'll someday be adults, Jonathan
Jordan had already decided he was going to get power, status and money.  He
had years to plan his strategies.  Politics, business, and a profession
such as doctor or lawyer were all considered and rejected.  These depended
on strong competition and, to some extent, chance.  Jonathan wanted a sure
thing.  When he entered college, he majored in Psychology, and took as many
Business Management, Public Speaking and Theater Arts courses as he could.
After he got his PhD, he went to work for a large company as a salesman. 
Although he did very well and had just been promoted, he changed jobs at
the end of two years.  His second and third two year jobs were with Sales
Training organizations, each time with a higher position.  Jonathan spent
his fourth two years working as an executive in a prestigious Executive
Effectiveness Training company.

   During high school and college he had joined all the right clubs,
cultivated all the people who had the most potential for influence and
never got involved in anything that could look bad on his record later.  In
spite of all this drive, Jonathan was a nice person; he liked everyone and
everyone, and even those competing with him for grades or honors liked him.
His manners were impeccable, he always said the right thing, and he was
genuinely thoughtful.

   When he was twenty-seven, Jonathan knew he had to find a wife because he
wanted to be married when he was thirty.  He volunteered to help lead the
teen group at his church (a denomination he had chosen because it was
large, affluent, and had many influential members).  Of all the girls, he
narrowed the field to those from fifteen to eighteen, then chose the eight
most attractive ones.  It was relatively easy for him to gather background
information on them.  He weeded out four.

   As a psychologist, he suggested that he could give all the members of
the teen group aptitude, interest, and other tests to help them decide what
they would do as they became adults.  He made sure his four finalists took
those tests along with a few extra ones to learn a bit more about them. 
Most important, he wanted to find which of the four was the most socially
acceptable as a wife.  Jonathan wanted a girl who was compliant but who
could be independent, was intelligent but not brilliant, was socially aware
and got along well with people.  He eliminated two.

   Jonathan made it a point to get to know the remaining two girls.  Both
would have served his needs excellently, but he wanted the better of the
two.  When he found that Melissa was still a virgin and the other wasn't,
he had the one he wanted even though her IQ was higher than he would have
preferred.  He didn't want his wife to be inordinately interested in sex.
She was seventeen when he began to cultivate her parents and her.  Only on
her eighteenth birthday did he suggest that they go out on a date.

   Melissa had grown up with goals her parents and church had given her. 
She wanted a home, children, and a loving, understanding, romantic husband.
She had learned early that boys are frightened of girls who are too bright,
so she avoided getting very high grades on tests including IQ tests
although learning came very easily for her.  While she was in high school
she seldom dated because she was distressed with the blatant sexual
orientation of all the boys.  None of them under- stood or were interested
in fulfilling her dreams and desires.  Any primal sexual urges she had
evaporated as soon as these rutting animals made their crude overtures to
her.

   She was dazzled when this successful, handsome man of the world who was
eleven years older than she, showed an interest in her.  Jonathan was
wonderfully sensitive to the needs she had learned to have from the great
literature and romance novels she read.  He did all the romantic things she
had heard and read about and none of the obnoxious carnal things the boys
she knew were always talking about.  When she turned eighteen his interest
became overtly romantic.  As a boyfriend he was close to her ideal.  He
never forgot important dates, sent flowers, and he never attempted anything
related to sexuality.  He would kiss her gently at the end of an evening,
but he never tried to carry it any further than that.  In addition he was
tall, very good looking, and financially quite well off.  Within a year
they were married so he was right on schedule.  Their wedding was even more
regal and fairy-tale-like than she had ever hoped for, and she made a
beautiful, statuesque bride.  Although most saw her as about five foot five
inches, she was really four inches taller.  She just radiated smallness.

   Her mother and the minister had counseled her before marriage, so she
was over-prepared for the pain associated with the loss of her virginity.
This was fortunate because between his desire to get this time wasting
activity over as quickly as possible which meant no preparation, and the
disparity in size, she felt a great deal more pain than most women
experience.  Jon, on the other hand, was far more concerned with the
prenuptial agreement.  He wanted to be fair, but didn't want to take any
chance that she would damage his progress or reduce his net worth.  He felt
that she should receive nothing if they separated within five years, then
two percent of his net worth for each year after that up to thirty years of
marriage.  She was sure she would remain married to this wonderful man
forever so saw all this as legalistic trivia.

   Immediately after the honeymoon, he left his job and opened his own
management and sales training company.  The frills associated with sex
seemed to be a waste of time, as was most of sex itself.  He believed
foreplay, after-play, variations in position and techniques were all
activities developed by those who were failures in life, to occupy their
time.  An orgasm every week or two was more than sufficient to take care of
his needs.  Jonathan was happy, however, that he was much more endowed in
both length and width than any of the other men he saw in the showers at
his athletic club.  It gave him an additional bit of power over those who
felt intimidated by the comparison.

   While he was concerned that he do everything to please her that would be
expected by a woman in her situation, he was totally unaware of what she
needed and wanted as herself.  He was still sensitive to those of her needs
he perceived, but she began to see a difference between sensitivity and
empathy.  Sensitivity was a desire to do the right thing.  Empathy was an
understanding of the person so you knew what the right thing really was. 
There was little relationship between the two.  As she learned about
lubricants, sex slowly moved from severely painful to merely annoying. 
That it became even less frequent was its most positive attribute.

   Although he didn't want children, he knew they would help his image. 
When they tried unsuccessfully, he immediately felt he had made a wrong
choice of a wife.  However, the medical tests showed that mumps when he was
a young teen-ager was the cause.  In a way, this was even better.  Now he
could play the martyr; the man who wanted to be a loving father, but who
was prevented from ever enjoying this bliss.  He worked out socially
acceptable answers to reject the ideas of adoption and artificial
insemination.

   ****

   Melissa was innocent to the point of ignorance when they got married,
but she started to take classes at a local university.  At first, she
followed his suggestions that she take fine arts classes.  Then she began
to branch out into political science, philosophy, psychology, sociology,
physical and biological science.  The little girl was growing up; her mind
was being filled with all sorts of wondrous ideas she had never before
conceived of.  She even learned that some people used more than the
missionary position, and some people made love daily.

   By now his corporate reputation was also growing; companies all over the
country hired him and his associates for week-long motivational seminars.
He was even building a client base in Europe and Japan.  This meant he was
away from home about two weeks out of five, but he called every night and
chatted with her, being sure to tell her how much he loved and appreciated
her; sent her roses both for all special occasions, and on a random
schedule his assistant had generated on a computer; wrote her short
romantic poems (had them ghost-written) and mailed them to her.  He had
bought a large condominium that occupied one quarter of the top three
floors of one of the more prestigious buildings in Manhattan.  Here he and
his sophisticated, beautiful wife held elegant cocktail and dinner parties
attended by all the wealthy, famous and powerful people who could advance
his career.  By now he was running effectiveness seminars for corporate and
government executives.  His company had grown and split into a number of
divisions.  He served on the boards of directors for six major
corporations.

   The day she signed up for a human sexuality class her life changed.  She
had expected it would be a tour of the biology of reproduction.  Within two
weeks she learned that her whole sexual ontology filled less than a percent
of the real sexual universe, and even what she thought she knew was mostly
myth.  At twenty-four she was just beginning to learn the "facts of life."

   One other class in which she had enrolled that semester was Advanced
Creative Writing.  The teacher was a successful writer, but he certainly
didn't fit the image of success she was used to.  He was about five foot
ten, average weight, had dull, light brown hair, hazel eyes, nondescript
features, and was twenty-six.  In addition, he was shy and introverted,
didn't seem to have any social polish or graces, and he asked that the
class call him by his first name, Tom.  Melissa considered dropping the
class because he certainly didn't fit her idea of a dynamic instructor she
could respect.  When she got her first paper back at the beginning of the
third meeting, she was sure she didn't want this class.  He had written in
large red letters at the top of the page, "This is a class in CREATIVE
writing.  You've written an amazingly stereotyped, dull paper.  Let
yourself be wild.  Write with joy and abandon."

   At the end of the class that evening, Tom called her to his desk.  "I
think you have a lot of potential, but you've repressed everything.  Think
of some life style you find undisciplined, distasteful, even debauched and
write within that framework.  Try to imagine yourself as each of the
characters and write them as you see them.  Don't expect too much accuracy
at first, but observe how your writing changes." She decided to give the
class another couple of weeks.

   Melissa sat down with her diary and extracted a summary of her life from
birth to the present.  It was just as amazingly stereotyped and dull as her
first paper had been - a romance story for a little girl.  Then she tried
to imagine herself and the other characters doing wild, ecstatic, even evil
things.  While she had them be socially unacceptable at times or break the
law, she began to focus on sexual variations.  At first, she added a little
flirting, but when she looked at it, her life was still quite boring. 
Finally, she decided to include some of the bizarre behavior she had read
about, but not really believed, in her human sexuality class.  Since her
husband was quite large, annoyingly so, she fantasized how much nicer a
small penis would be, how many more things it could do.

   She envisioned touching it and was thrilled at her naughtiness.  Then
she imagined what it would be like to. . .  she had a hard time writing the
description even though no one would ever, ever see this story.  She forced
herself to describe taking this small penis into her mouth.  The idea
nauseated her, especially when she recalled seeing, as a young girl, a
neighbor's male dog licking his bright red penis.  Still, why was she
salivating, and why was she slowly opening her mouth as she wrote?  She
thought of her nondescript instructor.  He certainly wouldn't have the
regal organ her husband had; his would be insignificant and small. . .  but
it would fit her fantasies.

   Now she had a focus.  She imagined sucking and licking his little shaft
and the bright red head of it, and she wasn't at all nauseated.  In fact,
there was something nasty, evil, and strangely attractive about the whole
idea.  Since her whole life had been controlled by her mother, her
teachers, her church, and now her husband, this imagined rebellion was
unexpectedly empowering.  If anyone had noticed, when she walked out of her
study she seemed to have grown an inch.

   She typed her story, using fictitious names but had the heroine copulate
her husband orally.  She used the technical words she had learned in class.
Melissa was reluctant to even turn it in, but she had decided she was going
to really shock her instructor by going to extremes.  When she got it back,
it had the note, "Good for a twelve year old.  I want you to use this paper
as a template this semester.  Keep rewriting and expanding it to make it
more emotional, powerful, weird; add new chapters.  Think of things that
are impossible for you to believe could happen, crude, sexual, criminal,
unethical things; and also ecstasy, love, joy, beautiful things at the
limits of your imagination.  Use powerful, vulgar, street words, not cold
medical terms.  We can worry about plot and character development later."

   Until recently, Melissa would have been crushed at his criticism, but
now she took it as a challenge - she would show him just how bad she could
be, or rather how bad she could imagine to be.  That evening she wrote with
a vengeance.  She started by imagining her naked body with her instructor's
body in every contortion possible.  She kissed and licked him everywhere,
and he did the same.  He inserted his penis in every orifice. . .  No!  -
He fucked her pussy, her mouth and her ass with his hard cock.  He rammed
it into her ferociously, and she wanted it.  She typed the description
rapidly.

   Melissa sat back to catch her breath and felt strange between her legs.
She seemed warmer than usual and possibly slippery.  She got up, went into
the bathroom, slid down her panties and touched herself there.  This was
something she usually avoided, using a washcloth even when she washed
there. She was warm and quite wet with what she recalled was lubricating
fluid.  As her finger slid down she stroked her clitoris.  The power of
that sensation caused her to jerk her hand away, but she put it back and
did it again.  In only a few moments she was pressing and sliding over her
sensitive clitoris and becoming more and more excited.  Over the next
minutes she learned the pressure, speed and location that pleased her most.

   Suddenly, her whole body started to shudder and tense as she rubbed
herself wildly.  The first orgasm of her life was beyond all her prior
beliefs.  Never had she realized she could experience anything this
powerfully satisfying.  The only thing that confused her was the sudden
vision of the pretty little fifteen year old high school girl who had been
accepted into the creative writing class that flashed into her mind as she
was in the midst of her orgasm.

   Now she went back to the computer and added her sensations during her
arousal and orgasm, and how she felt afterward.  With her new experience
she went to the beginning and modified the entire paper.  This version she
knew she absolutely could not show anyone.  She showered, went to bed and
tried to sleep.  Her mind raced through unfamiliar fantasies, situations
she hadn't even known could exist until the last few days, and certainly
that she would never have considered.  Now she reveled in them, even though
she felt so depraved and guilty that she could never share them.

   She reached down again and stroked herself tentatively.  At her first
touch she knew she had to experience another orgasm immediately.  Her mind
focused on Tom.  His body was so beautiful and felt so good; he whispered
his love for her and how much he needed to ravage her as he kissed
ferociously, moved down to her breasts, then finally down to her vulv. . .
cunt.  Quickly he brought her to a gut wrenching orgasm, then continued
with a second, third and a fourth.  He immediately moved up, rammed himself
inside her and kept slamming against her until she had gone through three
more powerful orgasms.  Then she collapsed and fell asleep.

   The next morning Melissa awoke feeling more relaxed and joyous than she
had in years.  Even though it was just a fantasy she had gotten so much
pleasure, it was so real that she felt almost like an adulteress.  She went
back to her computer, brought up the file and copied it into a private
directory, then she modified the original to make it less perverted, less -
what had he called it?  - less debauched.  Now she printed it out and
brought it to class that evening.

   ****

   Jonathan had just completed merger talks in Paris with two European
firms.  His company would be the surviving one, and he would be the CEO of
the combined corporation that was now moving into computers and the new
Internet diaspora.  All of the men went out to one of the best restaurants
in the city for a celebratory dinner, and Jonathan was delighted with the
choices of wine his new young French assistant had made.  After the men
finished and began to part, his assistant said, "This is not idle flattery,
Mr.  Jordan, but you are the most delightful American I have ever met.  I'm
sure I shall enjoy working for you in any capacity you desire."

   Jonathan wasn't sure what made him do it, but he said, "The evening is
still young.  If you don't have other plans we could go to my suite, have a
cognac or two and go over our next steps in organizing the companies." The
assistant immediately agreed.  As they sat there reviewing the corporate
structure over their third cognac, Jonathan realized that he was strangely
aroused.  He thought of Melissa but that actually decreased his arousal. 
Then he looked at Jean Claude.  The young man reminded him of himself at
that age, so clean-cut, so handsome. . .  no.  So beautiful. . .  and
desirable.  As he talked he stood up, walked behind the young man, and
began to massage his shoulders.

   "Oh, Mr.  Jordan, I love the feel of your strong hands on my body.  You
have had a very long and stressful day.  Will you let me return the favor
and massage you?" Jonathan agreed and they went into the bedroom.

   He started to lay down on the bed, but Jean said, "It is much better if
you disrobe." When he was down to his underpants, Jean said, "We are both
men.  You don't need to be shy, and a massage is not complete unless it is
complete." The underpants came off and Jonathan lay face down on the bed.
He felt Jean climb onto the bed and straddle him.  Jean began a slow and
sensual massage, and after a few minutes Jonathan was glad he was face
down. Jean's hands felt so wonderful, and the feel of his bare legs against
Jon's were so pleasant.  He tensed when he realized Jean was no longer
wearing pants, then he relaxed and felt Jean's hard rod resting between his
cheeks.

   "Alright, now roll over."

   "No, that's OK, Jean.  It was great."

   "No, no, no.  It is not complete until it is complete.  You must roll
over.  Do not be embarrassed because massages often cause a man's body to
change, and we are both men." Jon rolled over and Jean gasped.  "And that
is certainly nothing to be embarrassed about.  You have a lovely body, Mr.
Jordan, including what I had not seen before this moment."

   Jon looked down and saw that Jean was also rigidly pointing up at a
forty-five degree angle.  "You do pretty well, yourself, Jean.  I don't
think I ever seen as beautiful a cock in my life (what made me say that,
especially to call it 'beautiful?').  I bet you drive your girlfriends
wild."

   "I am not interested in girl friends (he stressed the 'girl'), but if
you are willing I would love to give you a very special massage." At this
he leaned forward, began to massage Jon's nipples and his cock pressed
alongside Jon's.

   Without thinking, Jon grabbed both their shafts held them together and
pumped his hips forward and back so they rubbed together.  Jean slid down
and engulfed Jon's erection in his warm, slippery mouth.  His tongue did
things to Jon's cock that Jon had not even imagined were possible.  Jon was
almost ready to come, when Jean backed off, twisted around so his erection
was over Jon's face, then went back to licking and sucking Jon's shaft. 
Jon ran his tongue along the bottom of Jean's rod, then grabbed it and
stuffed into his own mouth.  Although both of them came quickly, neither
even slowed down.

   After their second orgasm, Jean pulled out and said, "Oh Jon, I need to
feel your beautiful big penis in my ass.  Please put it really deep inside
me."

   "Gladly, but I don't want to hurt you." Jean hopped up, ran to the
kitchen and grabbed a bottle of olive oil from the cupboard.  He lubricated
both of them, and lay face down.  Jon kneeled between the young man's legs,
held his cock against Jean's puckered little rear opening and began to
push. He felt the firm head of his large penis force itself inside Jean's
welcoming body.  As he got past his corona he sank down, drove himself deep
into Jean's intestines, and lay forward to feel their firm, rippling bodies
pressing together.  He knew instantly that this was where his shaft had
always needed to be.  Slowly he began to slide in and out in long smooth
strokes.

   Jean did not go home that night.  They got up that morning, showered,
kissed passionately then left to have a good breakfast on the way to work.
Jon felt more alive and invigorated than he should have after only three or
four hours sleep.  He canceled a meeting and left early to take an
afternoon nap.  Jean left work shortly after Jon did, they met at Jon's
apartment in the early evening, had an excellent meal and a few bottles of
expensive wine delivered, then repeated the prior night's activities.  Jean
had, however, brought a change of clothes this time.

   It was only three days when Jon decided he would leave the corporate
offices in France rather than moving them to the United States.  This meant
he would be spending even less time with Melissa, and he wasn't sure how
she would deal with it.  He certainly didn't want to have her move to
Paris. And he certainly wasn't going to give up the joy of Jean's muscular
body, the fury with which they rammed themselves into each other, the
delight of kissing, loving, fondling, and minutely examining Jean's hard
shaft and feeling it rolling around in his mouth.

   ****

   Melissa talked with Sandy, the fifteen year old, before class for the
first time other than a short greeting.  She reminded her of herself nine
years ago.  Sandy said, "I just love Tom, don't you, Mrs.  Jordan?  He
brings out creativity that I never knew I had in me." Melissa asked herself
why she was staring so intently at Sandy, why she was swallowing more than
usual.  The girl was certainly pretty and she had delightful small breasts,
but . . .

   "Yes, he certainly does that.  Oh, and call me Melissa.  I thought this
class was for university students; how did you get in?"

   "My tenth grade teacher liked the papers I wrote and he was a friend of
Tom's so he recommended me.  I was worried at first because I thought
everyone would be so adult and treat me as just a kid.  Some of them do,
but other students, like you, for example, have been very friendly and
supportive."

   That evening Tom handed back the papers and had written on Melissa's,
"Your descriptions are coming alive, but you're still an early adolescent.
Develop your characters - get inside them to figure out what makes them
tick.  Work on their subconscious sexual desires and motivations."

   During the break she sought out Sandy.  "How did you do on your latest
paper?"

   "He liked it but he gave me some good pointers on plot construction and
flow.  He said my insights into a woman's feelings when a parent dies were
particularly affecting.  I had to really imagine what that would feel like
because my parents are young and healthy.  What about your comments?"

   "He said I have to get inside my characters and understand their sexual
motivations."

   "Oh, neat.  I wish I had experience like you do so I could write about
sex.  That would be so dirty and so much fun." Melissa didn't correct
Sandy's evaluation of the older woman's experience.

   Melissa had added doing oral to her husband, and even made notes on
doing anal although she couldn't really envision it.  Beyond that, she just
wasn't sure what she should write about.  Then she had an idea.  She looked
in the bibliography of her human sexuality book, and found Psychopathia
Sexualis by Kraft-Ebbing.  It was an old book, but she'd start there then
work up to the more modern ones.  Melissa knew she would be repulsed by the
perversions she was sure she'd find, but she would try to choose one or two
of the less terrible ones and include them in her paper.

   She went to a large book store and found the book but just couldn't
bring herself to take it to the counter and buy it.  What would the clerk
think?  Instead, she picked up the catalog on the counter and went home. 
Then she ordered the book by mail and, while she was at it, added a half
dozen other books that were listed as dealing with sexual variations,
deviations and perversions.

   When they came she started reading, and was shocked at the depravity of
some people.  As horrible and nasty as they were, she couldn't stop herself
from becoming extremely aroused.  She frequently stopped and used the
vibrator she had purchased, also by mail order.  What was wrong with her?
The vibrator wasn't enough; she had to experience the real thing.

   "Melissa, I'm delighted with your development.  You have even more
talent as a writer than I had expected.  Next class I'm going to have the
students pair off and critique each other's papers.  You may feel
embarrassed to show yours, so you could bring along one that's not sexually
oriented.  Dig deeper into what drives the particular sexuality of your
characters, what each act means in terms of satisfying their needs, and how
each drives or inhibits their growth." This comment on her latest paper had
Melissa ecstatic for the rest of the class.

   "Melissa, would you like to trade papers with me, next time?" Sandy
asked during the break.

   What caused the sudden tiny twinge in her vaginal muscles?  "Yes, Sandy,
I'd like that very much."

   ****

   Jon assigned Jean the job of finding two adjacent luxury condominiums
for the company to purchase.  He moved into one, Jean into the other, then
he had a door cut through the connecting wall.  This way, Jon explained,
the caterers would have two kitchens to work from when the company
entertained.  However, Jean spent essentially no time and certainly never
nights in his own bed.  The maid who came in every morning smiled at the
daily amount of dried semen that was widely distributed on the sheets of
Jon's king sized bed.

   Jon was concerned that Melissa wouldn't be able to handle the level of
separation he anticipated.  He worked on logical reasons she should stay in
New York on the flight back to the U.S.  "Melissa, I can see that
integrating the companies will take more personal time and effort than I
expected.  That means that I'll be spending much more time in Paris. 
However, it's only temporary so it would be insensitive of me to expect you
to be uprooted twice.  We can talk on the phone often, and I'll come back
as often as I can." He was prepared for tears and an insistence that she
join him.

   "Oh, Jon, I know how important the success of your companies is to you,
and I wouldn't want to get in your way.  I'm in the middle of classes at
the local university so I'd just as soon finish them first.  I suppose I
could put off continuing working on my degree, because I don't speak French
so I couldn't transfer to a school in France."

   "How could I have been so selfish, Melissa?  You stay here as long as
you want and finish your degree." His mind envisioned him and Jean
pleasuring each other while she sat in a classroom.

   "Thank you, Jon, but it might take four or five years.  I couldn't ask
you to wait that long." She thought how nice it would be to avoid having
his huge cold cock invade her body.

   He was ecstatic.  "No, darling, I insist.  I would rather be lonely than
get in the way of your growth." This was better than he could ever have
hoped.  She would still be his beautiful trophy wife, even more
sophisticated and educated.  She would be well occupied while he would be
living the secret life that he now knew he always yearned for.

   "Send me copies of your short stories.  I'd love reading them." Melissa
thought to herself that she would have to do double duty and write a
separate set for him.  Later, she found another way - she sent copies of
Sandy's early stories to Jon.  He was delighted that she was still so fresh
and innocent.  It took only a week for Jon to set the corporate move in
motion then he hurried back to Jean.

   ****

   Melissa dug through her papers to find one she could give Sandy to
critique.  None of them from her earlier course or the first ones from this
advanced course seemed to show her present skill level and ideas.  Could
she let Sandy read her most recent efforts?  What would Sandy think of her?
Would the girl see her as a pervert?  How would it affect her when she read
all the sexuality in the stories?  Would this damage their budding
friendship, or give it more depth?  Melissa envisioned Sandy's emotional
response if she were to read the woman's latest effort.  She imagined the
feeling between the girl's legs and began to develop those same feelings
herself.  Yes, the paper might shock the girl, but she had to take that
chance.  If it brought them closer and made them more open with each other
it would be worth it.  It could lead to . . .  She thought and rejected the
idea of any sexual liaison, so instead, decided they could become very,
very good friends and confidantes.

   "Oh, Melissa, this is so hot.  I really envy your experience.  I'd give
anything to do all of the things you've done.  Did you really have a
lesbian relationship then a three-some.  God, that's so wonderfully
perverted.  Just the thought of you doing that with another woman has got
me so. . .  I wish it were me." Then she realized what she said, "I mean,
your writing is so persuasive that it really pulls the reader into it.  The
idea of sharing a guy so he takes turns being inside each of the women is
really interesting.  Is that common among adults?"

   "Sandy, I have a confession.  Until this class I hadn't even imagined
any of the things I wrote about; I was about five years younger than you
are now in sexual awareness.  Tom brought that out of me.  The thought of
having sex with another woman didn't even occur to me, and the idea would
have nauseated me then.  Now, I don't know.  When I look at a really
beautiful young woman I find myself getting sexually aroused.  I'm not sure
that's normal.  Writing seems to have brought out some hidden perversions
in me.  Maybe I should stop this and just write stories that have nothing
to do with sex."

   "Oh, no, don't do that.  I love reading your stories and I hope you let
me read any others you write.  And, I'm probably just as perverted as you
are because when you talked about how a really beautiful woman made you
feel, I was wishing it could be me."

   "Sandy, it is. . .  uh, that is a real compliment.  I've written some
others, but I've been afraid to let Tom read them.  However, we should get
back to critiquing each other's work." They went on to other subjects then
took notes on Tom's lecture.

   As they left class Sandy swallowed and said, "Uh, Melissa, if you want,
you could bring some of your other stories to class.  I'd really like to
read them."

   Then Melissa said something life-changing.  "Why not make an evening of
it?  You could come to my place for dinner and bring your stories.  Then
after dinner we could both read each other's work."

   Sandy squealed and said, "I'd love it, but it can't be a school night,
maybe a Friday or a Saturday."

   "OK, but you shouldn't be out very late.  We could make it over-night or
even a weekend.  Would your parents mind?"

   "My parents got divorced recently and my mother is taking advantage of
her freedom.  She's gone just about every weekend, so it wouldn't bother
her at all.  When would be a good time for you?"

   "How about this weekend?  I could have a taxi pick you up." Melissa
suddenly realized she was thoroughly lubricated, quite warm, and very aware
of the area between her thighs.

   "Great.  And maybe I'll do something as a surprise." When Sandy got
home, she wrote furiously, building on the sexual situations in Melissa's
story, and making them even more explicit and varied.  She only changed the
names of the characters - they were now Sandy, Melissa and Tom.

   Melissa had arranged for the meal to be catered by the firm that handled
John's dinner parties.  The table was set elegantly with fine porcelain,
ornate silverware, crystal goblets for water and three kinds of wine. 
Melissa wore an expensive designer dress she had just bought that showed
much more décolletage and breast than she had ever done before.  Sandy knew
from Melissa's clothes she wore to class that the woman wasn't hurting for
money, but she was dazzled by the opulence she saw tonight.  They enjoyed
talking before dinner and traded a few more early papers to read.

   "Oh, I should have told the caterers not to put out wine glasses since
you are only fifteen."

   "Please don't have them taken away.  I haven't tried alcohol yet, and I
was a little afraid, but this is the perfect opportunity.  I don't have to
worry about highschool boys pawing me, our dinner is very private and
intimate so if I make a fool of myself, it won't be in front of a lot of
people, and I won't have to go home.  I can't think of anyone I'd like to
have take my virginity. . .  about alcohol, that is, more than you
Melissa."

   "Oh, you are a delightful, nasty little girl.  I've never had more than
one glass of wine or champagne at my husband's dinner parties myself. 
Let's take the opportunity to both find out what it's like to go all the
way. . .  and get drunk," Melissa giggled.

   They enjoyed the light but exotic dinner Melissa had ordered, but the
caterer poured their glasses as they emptied them.  Both tended to drink
more wine than one would normally with dinner to wet their unusually dry
mouths.  The giggled like the two schoolgirls they were.  The caterers
cleared the table, cleaned up and left.

   As the two women sat in the large, formal living room and sipped liqueur
in lieu of dessert Sandy said, "I wrote something this week but I'm not
sure I should show it to you."

   "Oh, please do, Sandy.  I'd love to read it."

   "Well, maybe later," the younger girl said.

   "I can't wait.  Meanwhile, I've never been to a slumber party; how about
you?" Melissa asked.

   "Neither have I.  My mother always wanted me to focus on my studies. 
Are you suggesting that we do that tonight?"

   "Why not?  We could change into our nightclothes then we could sit on my
king sized bed while we read each other's stories," Melissa said.

   "That sounds like fun.  Let's do it." Sandy went into the guest bedroom,
took off her clothes, slipped on her long nightgown, and walked into the
master bedroom.

   "Oh, I'm so sorry.  I'll wait outside," Sandy said.  Melissa was
standing by her wardrobe completely nude looking as if she were trying to
decide which outfit to wear.

   "That's OK.  I feel so comfortable around you that it doesn't bother me
being naked in front of you.  I was trying to pick out an outfit to wear.
Do you have any suggestions."

   "Um, let's see.  You have such a beautiful body that it would be a shame
to cover it with anything that's less than perfect." Sandy did a mental
double take.  Where did that comment come from?

   "Look who's talking.  Your upright young breasts have been. . .  would
drive any man crazy with desire."

   "I think they are way too small," Sandy said.

   "You've got to be kidding.  I think they're perfect, that is, from what
I could tell through clothes." Then Melissa also said something she hadn't
expected to say.  "It's a warm night, and the wine has made me even warmer.
We could keep being naughty and sleep naked.  That way, I could really
evaluate your breasts."

   "Well, that way you wouldn't have to worry about what to wear," Sandy
giggled as she pulled her nightgown over her head.  She paused, then made a
decision, hooked her thumbs in the elastic at the top of her panties,
pushed them down all the way to the floor and stepped out of them.

   "Oh, I was wrong.  Your whole body is perfect, more than perfect. 
There's no way. . .  if I were a man, there would be no way I could share a
bed with you and not ravish you." In spite of the wine, Melissa realized
what she was saying and feeling and became embarrassed.  "Well, let's hop
in bed and read those papers."

   " Wow, the wine has really gotten to me.  If someone ravished me I
wouldn't complain." Now it was Sandy's turn to be embarrassed.  She
blushed.

   "Oh that's wonderful - you blushed all the way down to your breasts,
your lovely breasts.  We'd better get under the covers and read the papers.
Maybe that'll cool us down." They slid under the sheet on their respective
sides of the bed.

   "Alright, you wanted to see the papers I had written but hadn't turned
in to Tom.  Here they are.  And what about yours.  You mentioned a
surprise. Was it a paper?"

   "Yes, but remember, I was just trying to let my imagination really soar.
I've never done any of those things.  I have to say though that I got
pretty hot while I was writing it.  Does your writing affect you the same
way?"

   "Good lord, yes.  I even had to buy a vibrator and take breaks every so
often." The wine was helping Melissa be far more open than she could be
normally.

   "Maybe you can. . .  uh, I better read your paper and here's mine."
Sandy was trying to get control of herself because she didn't want to do
anything that might lose her relationship with Melissa.

   They both started to read each other's papers.  In only a few minutes
each of them was breathing a bit more deeply, and each had slipped one hand
under the sheet to surreptitiously pet herself.  "Sandy, this is wonderful.
I love you.  I. . .  I mean I love it."

   "Well, I love you, Melissa.  I really wish you could teach me all the
things you wrote about." Sandy leaned toward Melissa, and the older woman
reached for the girl, pulled her close and kissed her deeply.  In only
moments they were exploring each other's mouth with their tongues, stroking
each other's breasts and caressing each other.

   They whispered of their affection, each for the other, and continued
petting each other for close to an hour.  Finally, Sandy threw back the
covers, said, "I don't know how to do this, but I have to try" as she dove
between Melissa's legs and engulfed the woman's vulva with her mouth.  Then
she found Melissa's clitoris and very softly petted it.

   "Oh, you darling child.  Wait a minute.  Let me move around so I can do
the same to you." While they were much more loving and gentle, they had
even less sleep that night than Jon and Jean had their first night.  Most
of Saturday and Sunday were spent alternately napping while they held each
other and making love.  For the first time Melissa had an orgasm with
another person, and she repeated it countless times.  Sandy was in the same
state.  By Sunday afternoon they were trying to figure how they could
justify living together to both Jon and Sandy's mother.

   ****

   Jean introduced Jon to the Paris gay scene.  He would never have
believed how much fun sex could be, especially when there were a half dozen
beautiful, hard young male bodies involved.  He wondered how he could have
spent all those years looking at penises and hard butts in his health club
shower room without wanting to kiss and lick and hold and suck the penises,
to have them inside him, and him buried far inside the round firm rears. 
Fortunately, Jon had set up his company with excellent management so, even
though he was no longer intimately involved with the company, it functioned
very well.

   Jon was having as many orgasms a day as he used to have in two or three
months, and he was savoring the taste of about the same number of orgasms
each day.  Jean had brought two delightful seventeen year old boys to live
with them, and all four penises were almost constantly occupied in
someone's mouth or anus.  Because Jon was the head of the household, he
often had his penis in one seventeen year old's ass, his mouth clamped
around the other boy's penis, and Jean buried deep in Jon's rear.

   ****

   Sandy's mother was much less of a problem that they had expected.  As
soon as Sandy said she wished she could live with Melissa, her mother
encouraged her to pursue that course.  She wanted to sell their house and
move to California to join a man she had been secretly involved with during
her marriage and had been waiting until Sandy finished highschool.  This
obstacle was now out of the way.

   Jon was even more delighted to learn that his wife had the companionship
of a teen-age girl.  He had worried that she might get lonely and seek the
arms of a lover.  This relationship would keep her fresh and innocent.

   The next step was a tough one - to get Tom involved.  They waited until
all the other students had drifted away then put their papers on Tom's
desk. Melissa then said, "Tom, Sandy and I were hoping you could join us
for dinner at my place this Friday.  It would be a social evening.  Both of
us feel you have given us so much that we'd like to repay you."

   "I'm always delighted to have someone else cook, and I would enjoy not
eating by myself.  Should I bring a bottle of wine for the adults and soft
drinks for Sandy?"

   "That's not necessary.  I have a good sized wine cellar so we may as
well use that."

   Tom was even more surprised than Sandy had been at how wealthy Melissa
was.  The three of them carried on a pleasant conversation and sipped a
light dry sherry with expensive appetizers.  Then they went in to the
catered dinner and had more wine.  Tom really enjoyed wine and almost never
had the quality of what was being served.  Melissa had told the caterer to
be sure that Tom's glass was always full so Tom had much more than his
normal quota.  After dinner they went back to the living room where Tom was
offered a small glass of Green Chartreuse at 110 proof.

   "Sandy and I both wrote a few stories that we've been reluctant to turn
in to you.  We thought you could glance at them and tell us what you
think," Melissa said.

   "Sure, it's the least I could do after that wonderful meal and wine, and
especially for the two most beautiful students an instructor could have.  I
shouldn't say this, but both of you often cause me to have very unteacherly
thoughts in class."

   Melissa and Sandy handed him their most erotic efforts and sat very
close on either side of him on the couch.  They had made sure the three
characters were named Melissa, Sandy and Tom.  As he read, they watched his
pants and weren't disappointed.  The fabric began to tent up.  "Oh, my God.
Melissa, you really took me seriously.  This is. . ." he swallowed and
choked slightly, "great." He picked up Sandy's and began to read.  As he
did, both of the girls put a hand on his upper legs and stroked it gently,
moving closer and closer to his crotch.  "Sandy," he swallowed again, "You
seemed so young and innocent.  This is amazingly erotic.  I didn't know you
had it in you."

   "Not yet, but soon, I hope.  Would you like life to imitate art, Tom?"
Sandy asked as Melissa kissed his left cheek.  He turned to face her and
she kissed his lips.  He returned it passionately, then felt Sandy's
fingers stroking his erection through his pants.

   "This can't be happening.  Are the two of you serious?  Besides, you're
only a child, Sandy" Tom gasped.

   Sandy said, "We're both serious.  I'm not as much of a child as you may
think.  Melissa and I have pretty well seen to that.  The only thing we
need now is a man to join us, and we both think you would be the perfect
choice.  Our only condition is that you be prepared to spend the weekend in
a continuous orgy with both of us."

   "I can live with that condition, although it may be continual rather
than continuous.  Geez, I must have done something wonderful in a prior
life.  Making love to either of you would be my idea of superb; both is
perfection."

   Melissa stood up, took his hand and led him to the bedroom.  Then both
of them began to undress him.  "My turn," he said as he stood there naked.
He slowly and erotically removed one piece of clothing from each of them
alternately until all three were nude.  He certainly wasn't endowed the way
Jon was, either in length and girth but he was adequate, and both the girls
found his body and equipment delightful.

   They all embraced and began to kiss and pet each other.  Gradually they
sank to the bed and began their exploration into all of the activities both
Melissa and Sandy had described so floridly in their papers.  Fortunately,
Tom did have one attribute at the high end of the sexual spectrum; he was
able to maintain an erection after an orgasm and to repeat orgasms many
times with only a few minutes relaxation.

   ****

   The more immersed Jon became in this lifestyle, the more he realized
that he never wanted to leave it.  He also realized that a divorce would
damage both his reputation and his finances.  What could he do to separate
himself from Melissa without hurting her or himself?  After much thought he
still couldn't come up with a complete plan.  He decided to talk with her
and claim that he was so busy that he could no longer fill the role of a
husband.  He would be willing to increase the benefits she would receive
under their prenuptial agreement, but would prefer that they not actually
divorce.

   Melissa knew that she had to separate from Jon and that she was willing
to give up all of the financial benefits and security she had as long as
she could spend her life with Sandy and Tom.  However, she feared that
Jon's anger at this betrayal would cause him to seek retribution against
all three of them.  He had the resources to cause Tom to at least lose his
job and possibly to have both Tom and Melissa charged with contributing to
the delinquency of a minor or even statutory rape.

   Jon called and said, "Melissa, there are a number of important matters
we have to discuss, and changes I plan to make.  I'm flying home tomorrow.
Please don't make any plans for the next few days.  After we talk, we shall
be seeing my lawyer to make some revisions in our prenuptial agreement and
living arrangements."

   She was panicked.  She immediately had Tom move back to his own
apartment and Sandy move back to her own bedroom.  While they were getting
the condo back in the shape it would be as if Melissa were living alone and
only had the teen-ager as a friend who happened to live in a spare bedroom,
she called some friends and got a recommendation for a lawyer.  She called
for an appointment early the next morning and explained the situation, as
far as she knew, to him.

   "You do seem to have a major problem, Mrs.  Jordan, since you are still
in your fifth year of marriage your husband could divorce you and you would
get nothing.  First, I recommend that you make no admissions.  You aren't
sure how much your husband knows, and you have to find out what he wants.
Second, don't make any agreements at your first meeting.  Third, when he
arranges for the two of you to visit his lawyer, insist that your own
lawyer be there.  If he gives you a new prenuptial agreement to sign, bring
it in for my review before you return it to him."

   Jon seemed more affectionate and conciliatory than when she expected
when he arrived home, but he was a skilled negotiator and psychologist so
Melissa couldn't tell whether he was just softening her up.  "Dearest, it
just isn't fair to you for me to be away so much, so I believe you should
have your freedom to live your life more fully, to make new friends, to
develop your independence."

   'Oh, oh,' she thought, 'he knows about what I've been doing, but he's
trying to be gentle and help justify my actions before he drops the bomb.'

   "A public divorce wouldn't be good for either of us at this time, but
I'm sure we can work out some arrangement that would benefit both of us" he
continued.

   'Hmm.  His company, reputation and image are all so important to Jon
that he may be willing to give me a little something just to disappear
quietly.  I guess that's the best I can expect.  I'll miss the wealth, but
the joy of living with Sandy and Tom is worth it.' She opened her mouth to
say something but she remembered her lawyer's advice.  'Keep your mouth
shut except to ask questions, Melissa.' "What were you thinking of, Jon."

   "I'm delighted that you are remaining calm, Melissa" Jon said.  "First,
I'd like to keep this condo for entertaining.  You can live here if you
wish, and I'll have the company buy another, smaller place for me to stay
at when I fly in from Paris.  For appearance sake, I would like you to be
with me whenever I entertain."

   Melissa breathed a sigh of partial relief.  "That appears very generous,
Jon, but there are major expenses involved with just living here.  I
certainly couldn't afford them if I were on my own."

   "Oh no, Melissa, I would take care of the taxes, fees, utilities,
insurance, maintenance, etc.  I would hope, however, that you would accept
only a five percent financial interest in my corporations and investments."
Melissa was becoming more confused.  She knew Jon was a considerate person,
but she couldn't understand this level of generosity by a husband who had
been cuckolded.

   "Jon, I want to thank you for your offer, but is it based solely on your
desire to be fair, to protect your company and your finances, or is there
something else involved?" She took a wild guess, "Or someone else?"

   For the first time Jon was flustered.  'Good Lord.  She's been playing
with me.  She knows!' "Melissa, I love you dearly.  This is about us, not
any other people.  I hadn't finished my idea.  I think you should also
receive a small monthly spousal support check."

   "Does that mean you would be revising our prenuptial agreement, to
include these new provisions, Jon?"

   "Of course, dearest.  I can have my lawyers draw it up this afternoon
and we can go to their offices tomorrow to sign it."

   Melissa didn't understand quite why Jon had stumbled, but she recognized
that there was some hidden weakness in his negotiating position.  "Tell you
what.  Have a messenger bring it by so I can look it over at my leisure and
suggest any revisions to make it fairer.  Then I'll sign it and send it
back to your lawyers.  Oh, and how do you want to handle the divorce?"

   Jon looked at his wife though new eyes.  This was definitely NOT the
innocent little girl he had married but a tough-minded, skillful
negotiator. "As you wish, Melissa.  I would prefer that our divorce be very
low key and unpublicized if possible."

   "Agreed.  We can keep it totally private and act publicly as if we were
still married.  I'll be waiting for the new agreement.  That seems to
conclude our business.  I assume you will be staying at a hotel this
evening, Jon."

   "You're right, Melissa.  It would be unseemly for me to stay here
tonight.  I wouldn't want to upset your house guest." He left.  She
wondered if this last was a subtle statement that he knew of their
relationship.

   ****

   'She must have found out about Jean Claude.  Otherwise she would have
tried for some sort of reconciliation, and she would have invited me to
stay in our condo tonight' Jon thought as he rode down in the elevator. 
'Is she going to try to take me to the cleaners in repayment for my
infidelity?  How should I handle the negotiation?  Should I offer her
nothing then give in the minimum grudgingly, which would make her fight for
as much as she can get?  Or should I appear very generous at the beginning
so she accepts my offer without further negotiation?  I think the latter is
preferable.  If she wants more I can just retract my entire offer.  Yes,
that's what I'll do.' He got off the elevator, walked to his car and
instructed the driver.

   The next afternoon, the messenger delivered the new contract.  Melissa
read it, and was delighted.  She brought it to her lawyer.  "If this is his
starting point, we can get quite a bit more.  What additional things would
you like, Mrs.  Jordan?"

   "Jon has included $10,000 a month spousal support.  Could we ask that it
be indexed for inflation?"

   "Of course, but I think you could get a great deal more."

   "No, I want to be fair to Jon.  After all, he didn't have to be anywhere
near this generous.  In fact, I really don't want a five percent interest
in his company.  He is so involved with it that I'm sure giving me that
much hurts him.  Instead, rewrite it so he doesn't give me any of his
corporation, but signs over the condo to me, indexes my spousal support,
and covers the condo expenses.  Include that he has the right to use the
condo for entertaining up to twelve times a year."

   "As you wish, Mrs.  Jordan, however, I think you're leaving money on the
table."

   Jon was overjoyed that she had turned down his offer of a part interest
in his corporation.  Signing over the condo was no problem, the indexing
was reasonable, and paying the condo expenses made sense if he was going to
use it for entertaining.  He agreed, the lawyers handled the divorce, and
he flew back to Paris.  Jon knew that he had chosen an innocent but very
bright young girl, but her clarity of thought and decisiveness in these
negotiations shocked him.  He realized this was probably the first time he
had dealt with her as an equal.

   Tom moved back in permanently, and he and Sandy moved back to the master
bedroom.  While threesomes are supposed to be inherently unstable, the love
each of them had for both of the others and the constant sexual pleasure
that all shared in overcame any of the expected problems.

   ****

   Three months later Jon called Melissa to set up a large party he wanted
to have for clients.  He said his assistant would be handling the details.
Jean Claude called on Melissa and met Sandy and Tom.  As he talked with the
three of them about the party he began to see that there was more to their
relationship than just friends.  When he was alone with her, he asked,
"Melissa, may I ask an impertinent question?"

   "Of course, but you must realize that you may receive an impertinent
answer, or one that you don't want."

   "Mai oui.  At first I thought that Tom and you were. . .  intimate. 
Then I thought it was Tom and Sandy.  Next, it appeared that he was
intimate with both of you, but now I would guess that this is only
two-thirds of the relationship."

   "My relationships are my business, and even though Jon and I are
divorced I don't want to hurt him so I would prefer that you not mention
any of this to him," Melissa answered.

   Jean Claude laughed, "Oh my dear lady, I must tell him.  Jon was so
worried that you were too innocent to understand the depth of relationship
he and I have.  He will be shocked that his young ex-wife has outdone him.
I find your bisexual menáge delightful and more experimental than our
homosexual one."

   Melissa was dazed.  As this revelation sank in she began to understand
Jon's behavior when he negotiated their divorce.  "Oh Jean, I could kiss
you . . .  figuratively, not literally.  It all makes sense now."

   When Jon came into town for the party he and Melissa had a very long
talk; only the second time in their entire relationship that they related
as equals, and the first time they related honestly.  Although they never
got back together, for the first time in his life Jon was able to develop a
real friendship without expectations and they maintained it for the rest of
their lives.

   Fini

   ====

   This fictional story is (c) Copyright 2002 by C.  Dodgson.  ALL Rights
Reserved.  It may not be reproduced in any form for profit including use by
membership for fee Internet sites without the written permission of the
author.  It may be distributed or archived provided that there are no
charges, this warning notice is attached, and the story is not changed or
abridged.  To comment send e-mail to chaz_dodgson at yahoo dot com.



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