Jack and I had been hooking up ever since his girlfriend dumped him.
He was a student worker at the university where I taught, and he came to fix my computer regularly. Or whenever I lied and said I needed my computer diddled.
We’d just wrapped up a lovely lunchtime quickie when a thought occurred to me: If he was game, we could kick our affair up a notch.
As he was saying good-bye, I reached up and straightened his tie. He was one of the few student workers who insisted on looking dapper and professional. Most of them just bounced around in graphic tees and shredded jeans. “Next time, why don’t you bring Baxter?”
Baxter was the newest of the new on the technical team. Nineteen, café au lait skin, bright green eyes and tall like nobody’s business.
Jack cocked an eyebrow. “For sex?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, for tea. Of course, for sex!” I leaned in close and grazed his chin with my teeth. He made a gruff noise. “We could do it at my place. Saturday. I’ll get pizza and make a cake.”
“I like your cake,” he said, one arm snaking around me.
I grabbed his crotch and gave his cock a gentle squeeze. “You like my everything.”
“I do. I really do.”
I squeezed again and felt his dick stir. “Talk to him. See if he’s interested.”
He shrugged. “I will. But I’m not fucking him. He’s cool, but that’s not my thing.”
I laughed. “I didn’t ask you to fuck him. You’d both be there to fuck me, handsome. I’d be the star of that party.”
He groped my ass and kissed my cheek. “Gotta go. I’ll text you, and let you know if he’s in.”
As the door swung shut, I certainly hoped he was. I wanted him in. In me, that was.
A text from Jack arrived about 20 minutes after he’d left my office, saying he and Baxter would see me at seven on Saturday night.
They were right on time.
I answered the door and welcomed the two strapping young men. One blond and fair, the other dark-haired and richly toned.
“Boys,” I said, smiling as I ushered them inside.
Baxter wasn’t as shy or reserved as Jack had been the first time we’d hooked up. He instantly went into joke mode. “I was lured here by pizza and cake. And, oh… ” he said, pretending to think, “pussy.”
“Which do you prefer first?” I asked, stepping back.
He looked me up and down in my jeans and flowing tunic. “Well, I have to say I prefer pussy first. Always.”
Speaking of pussy, mine got completely wet when he said that.
“Then let’s not make you wait.” I hooked the collar of his tee with a finger and pulled him in for a kiss. His mouth was soft on mine, and his hands went right for my tits. He squeezed them gently and then not so gently. He found my nipples through my top and pinched them between his strong fingers.