Could That Have Been Her?


This was written as an entry into a Writer’s Challenge on another site. The assignment was to write a story that referenced a black-and-white picture of a young woman sitting on a bench in some kind of hallway or concourse. She is dressed in a little black dress and “fuck-me” shoes, and has her long dark hair in a pony tail. She seems to be looking at an older man who has walked by with a woman about his age. The man appears to be looking back over his shoulder at the younger woman.

I hope you enjoy.

* * * * * * * * * *

I’ll turn forty in a few months. I’m not old, I know, but I’m stagnant. My wife and I have been together for a while, but our marriage is more of a habit than a romance, at this point. Oh, it’s not all bad. Cindy’s a good woman. We have a comfortable life, the careers we always wanted, and enough vacation time and disposable income to allow for some travel, something we both enjoy.

Cindy and I love our house, our lifestyle, our common interests, just about everything about our life together. We just don’t love each other. The only way we seem to be completely happy is if we’re sharing another woman. Cindy insists she’s bi, not gay, but she only seems to glow if we have a woman in our lives. Not just in bed, either. She develops a real closeness with these women, almost seems to fall in love with them. But then she loses interest. After twelve years of marriage, I believe that Cindy just can’t sustain lasting relationships. She’d probably discard me, too, but our arrangement works too well for her to give it up.

Me? Sometimes I question my capacity to love. I grew up as the only child of a pair of rather cold, guarded parents. I felt respect, pride, and concern for my well-being from them, but nothing that could ever really be called affection.

I did well in school, went in the service, survived, went to college, and eventually became a university professor. I met Cindy in grad school. We clicked. Even though we were in different majors, we shared a lot of interests academically. She wanted to be a biology professor, and I was studying archeology. When we both got job offers from the same school, we decided to get a house together. The sex was good, so we convinced ourselves we were in love and got married. We’re both fond of each other, and my life would be very different without her, but I don’t think either of us feels the intense love some couples do. Oh well.

* * * * * * * * * *

Liz was a junior archeology major. We were on a Native American dig in Arizona five summers ago. I hadn’t meant for anything to happen. Sure, I liked her. She was an excellent student, a hard worker, and, I couldn’t help but notice, hot as hell.

I think I passed the point of no return in my thoughts about her the day we all got a little overheated. I knew when I woke up just before dawn that it would be literally hot as hell that day. At breakfast, I suggested to the kids that we take the day off because of the heat, but they all said they wanted to work (probably afraid of losing brownie-points), so off we went. I had reminded everyone to pack a lot of water, and insisted on a ten-minute break every hour in the shade of a rock outcropping along the nearby creek.

Liz was dressed in the usual loose khaki shirt and slacks everyone wore on these things. Several times over the past few days, I thought I got a brief flash of nipple when her shirt gapped. I was pretty certain she didn’t wear a bra. She didn’t really need one, not because her breasts were too small, but because she was so fit. At night in the camp, she always changed into little cut-off jean shorts and a t-shirt, and when the night air got chilly, it became obvious that her chest was cold.

Despite my warning, Liz went to work with her usual enthusiasm, pushing heavy wheelbarrow loads of dirt to the sifter, combing for artifacts, and removing the waste soil at her usual rapid pace. It was on our third break of the morning, about eleven o’clock, when I asked all the kids how much longer we should work. Normally, we took our lunch break around one in the afternoon, and stayed in the shade until three, writing up notes and making plans for the rest of the day. I was miserable, and some of the kids were looking pretty drained, so I suggested we quit for the day.

No one wanted to be the first to agree, so I decided to take a vote. We went around the group, and ended with Liz. She looked at me and said, “Doc, I’m guess I’m the tie-breaker. Normally, I would say we should stop wasting time and get back to work, but it’s just too damn hot. So, I vote we go swimming.”

The creek was safe. That’s where we bathed, but we always went alone or with a same-gender partner. That was simply a matter of respect for each other’s modesty. I suspected some of the kids went for late-night coed swims, but, being about fifteen years older than most of them and being their professor, I never asked about it or considered joining in.

Liz looked around the group and trabzon escort asked, “So, it’s decided? We’re done digging for the day?”

I nodded. “We’re off work for the day.”

“Good!” she said, happily. She got up, walked to the edge of the creek, and pulled off her boots and socks. The hat came next, and then she untied her pony tail and combed her long dark hair out with her fingers. Turning to us, she called, “Am I going to be the only one? The water looks great.” Right there in front of us, she unbuttoned her shirt. Stroking her hair forward over her chest, she shrugged the shirt off. No bra. Then she took her pants off and stood there, wearing just a pair of tiny black panties. God, she was perfect.

Turning back to the water, Liz pulled her panties off and bent over at the waist to add them to the pile of clothes at her feet. That was when I made a few decisions. First, I was going swimming. Second, I wasn’t going to worry about sporting a boner. If anyone couldn’t understand why a thirty-five-year old professor would get hard looking at that twenty-year old ass, well, I wasn’t sure an explanation was possible. Third, and most importantly, I decided I wanted to fuck Liz.

We all eventually got naked and waded into the creek. You have to be fit if you’re doing an archeological dig. This was an academic exercise, but we worked like the ditch-diggers we were. The girls were all cute, and it was obvious that all us guys appreciated that, but my eyes saw little except Liz. I was right about her. Her breasts were that wonderful size that makes them fill a shirt, or your hands or mouth, perfectly. The areolas were round, about the size of a quarter, with succulent little nipples standing proudly on them, hardened by the cool water. The nearly black hair which beautified her head was completely absent from the rest of her body, allowing me a clear view of the tasty-looking outer lips of her pussy.

It wasn’t until we started playing Marco Polo that I was really glad I was standing in chest-deep water. Liz was “it” and came wading in my direction, blindfolded by a kerchief someone gave her. Her outstretched hand touched my belly first. “Gotcha!” she yelled.

“Wait, Liz, don’t take off your blindfold,” one of the guys called. “Do you know who it is?”

“No,” Liz said. “Although it’s obviously not you, John. I can hear you behind me. Hmmm, well let’s see what I can figure out.” She reached up and touched my shoulder. “Taller than me. That doesn’t tell me much, since I think I’m the shortest one here. Her hand trailed down over my chest. “Male,” she laughed. Her hands went to my hips. “Nice butt.”

Her one hand came up to my face, touching, exploring my features. Her other hand stayed on my hip and buttock, stroking lightly. I hadn’t been completely hard before, but that was changing. Liz was standing close enough to me that I knew my cock was going to come up to touch her tight little belly in a few seconds. When she felt the contact, her hand came around and slid slowly up my length.

Liz whispered, “Oooh, what’s up, Doc?” while continuing to touch my face with the hand that was visible to the others. “Don’t say anything, and keep a poker face,” she murmured as she gently fondled my scalp with one hand and my balls with the other.

She turned away and called in the direction John was standing, “I can’t figure out who this is, dammit! It could be Rick, or Jerry, or maybe Mac, but I think he’s too short to be Mac. How much longer do I have to figure it out?”

“Hurry up, or someone’s going to dunk you,” John laughed.

“Would you like that, Doc?” Liz whispered into my chest as she caressed my ear. “Would you like to push my head down?”

Her stroking was more purposeful now. The thought of her lips around my cock made it very difficult to keep a straight face. I knew I could cum soon if she didn’t stop.

“Maybe we can take care of this some time,” she said quietly, pulling away. Turning to the group, she said, “It’s gotta be Jerry.” She pulled off her blindfold and saw Jerry standing to her left. Mac was to her right, near Rick, and John was standing a little further away. “Huh?” she said, pretending to be confused. “Oh my God, it’s Doc!” she exclaimed. She turned to face me, smiling and jumping up and down with feigned excitement. “Sorry Doc! I hope you didn’t mind me checking you out!”

Oh, God! The small amount of bouncing her firm breasts did had me twitching in rhythm to them.

I had to be “it” next, but thankfully no one caught me cheating. I simply moved over to Mac and grabbed the hand on which he wore his varsity ring. That way, I could announce his identity and not have to spend any time touching him. Soon after that, I retired from the game and got out of the water. Pulling my clothes on over my wet skin felt good, and I went back into the shade.

After a few minutes, Liz joined me under the rock shelf. I nearly drooled as she wrung the escort trabzon water out of her hair onto her shirt, making it conform to the lovely shape of her breasts. Once again, my cock was hard as the stone I was sitting on, straining visibly inside my pants. “Maybe I could come to your camper tonight,” she said. “You have something I want.”

“I’d like that too, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” I said.

“Sure it is. I can be very quiet,” she smirked. “Besides, I might have something in my mouth, anyway.”

At that point, Mac and Janet came up to us, dressing as they walked. I could see John and Barb getting out of the water, with Rick, Jerry, Bill, Mandy, and Missy already getting dressed. When the group had settled again in our shelter, I said, “I suggest we wait until early evening to walk back to camp. I’m cooled off now, and I’d like to stay that way. I don’t care what the rest of you do, but I think I’m going to take a nap.” I lay down and rested my head on my day-pack. The others soon followed suit.

I’m not sure how long we would have slept if a clap of thunder hadn’t woken us. Even though it wasn’t yet six o’clock, it was pretty dark outside. I got up and looked out. I could see the rain line coming toward us, too fast for us to make it back to camp without getting caught in the storm. “This looks like a big one. I think we’d better stay put,” I said.

The rain reached us seconds later. Thunder crashed around us, but we were about as safe from lightening in here as we would be anywhere. There was wind and a little hail, but nothing so violent that I was worried for our campsite. I knew that the shelter we were in and our dig site were well above the recent flood plain, so this was as good a place to be as any.

When the storm passed, we walked back to camp, changed clothes, and prepared our evening meal. I didn’t hear anyone discuss our afternoon swim, and there didn’t seem to be any negative tension in the air between us, but I did notice several of the students looking at each other with renewed interest, no doubt remembering what they had seen. I know it was a struggle for me to keep my eyes trained on the girls’ faces, especially Liz’s. After dinner, we sat around the campfire, discussing our work, telling stories, and enjoying the cooler evening after the day’s scorching heat.

There was lightening on the horizon, and the weather service warned of more heavy rain coming to our area. We all decided to head to our campers a little early, so we wouldn’t get caught in the storm. Several pairs of kids shared trucks with camper modules in the beds, and other kids slept alone in trucks with a simple shell cap and a mattress on the bed floor. I had a big four-wheel drive van with a camper interior. It was my bedroom and office on these digs.

I stripped to my boxers and laid on my bed. I was tired, almost asleep, despite the oncoming storm, when I head the front door of the van open.

“Doc?” I heard a voice whisper.


“May I come in?”

“Who is it?”

“Liz,” she whispered.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting wet. It’s starting to rain. Can I come in?”

“Did anyone see you?” I asked.

“I’m not stupid,” Liz answered, crawling between the front seats to join me in the back of the van. “I meant what I said earlier. You have something I want, and hopefully, I have some things you might want too.”

“Liz, this could be bad if the others found out.” I sat up on my bed, very aware that I was wearing nothing but my rapidly tenting boxer shorts in front of my student.

“Which is why I waited until everyone’s lights had been out for at least half an hour before sneaking over here. I know this is dangerous. That’s part of what will make it so good,” she said, as she pulled her shirt over her head. “I want to have some fun with you, Doc.”

Just then the rain started pounding on the van. The thunder seemed to be all around us now.

“See, we don’t even have to be quiet,” Liz said, stripping off her shorts to reveal herself fully to me. She knelt on the bed with me, grabbed my cock that was working its way out of my boxers, and kissed me passionately.

That was all it took. I had made the decision earlier in the day that I wanted to fuck Liz at some point, but I had thought I would wait until we were back home to try to make it happen. As I said earlier, my wife and I had played with other women before, but none had been students, and I had never cheated alone. Somehow, those seemed like lines I shouldn’t cross.

The first gentle stroke of Liz’s tongue across the tip of my cock made me forget any reservations I had.

“This can’t happen if anyone’s going to find out,” I hissed.

“I won’t tell,” Liz said, yanking my shorts off and plunging my cock into her mouth. She locked her lips around me, and started moving her tongue around. The she pulled back, releasing me from her mouth and grasping me gently trabzon escort bayan in her hand.

“I was lying on my mattress, touching myself, remembering playing with your cock earlier today, and I just had to have you,” Liz said, and then she took my cock deep into her mouth again.

Oh, God! The fantasy I had about this girl when were skinny-dipping was nothing compared to the reality. She started bobbing her head up and down, taking me deep and then pulling back till I nearly popped out, slowly at first, but then faster. I was getting to the point where I knew I was going to cum soon when she suddenly lifted her head.


“What?” I groaned.

“I want you to cum in my mouth. Will you do that for me?”

Liz didn’t wait for my answer, since she already knew what it was. She began sucking me hard, pumping purposefully on my shaft. As my penis got thicker and even harder than it had been, I began thrusting my hips. “Cum for me, Doc,” she whispered, stroking me with one hand and pinching her own nipple with the other.

I grunted loudly as I felt the fluid pulsing through my shaft. The first rope went deep in her mouth. She swallowed, almost choking on the volume of it. The next few spurts landed on her lips, cheeks, and chin. When I had slowed to just a dribble, she used my cock to scoop up the semen from her face and licked it off, swallowing as much as she could find.

When she was done, Liz purred, “I want a turn.”

“Then get that pussy up here,” I growled, dragging her up my body. I could feel the wetness of her sex as her lips rubbed across my re-awakening cock. God, that felt good! Part of me wanted to just rub her cunt on me until I was hard enough to enter her, but my oral fixation dictated that I grab her hips and bring her pussy to my mouth.

When she was positioned above my face, I spread her lips with my thumbs and licked her from her asshole to her clit and back again. She squirmed and moaned above me, grinding her sex on my mouth.

I started eating pussy in high school. I’ve never fucked a woman I didn’t lick first. Call it a fetish, whatever. It’s one of my favorite things to do with Cindy, whether there’s another woman in the bed or not. I know women like it, and a happy partner is an enthusiastic partner. Liz was no exception. The harder I pushed my tongue into her little pussy, the louder she moaned, and the more her juices flowed. She reached behind her and began jacking me to full hardness again.

The ancient storm gods must have liked what we were doing. Rain was hammering on the roof and windows of the van, thunder was crashing around us, lightening was strobe-lighting above the sunroof. When I moved to nibble on Liz’s tender little button, no one heard her wailing out her first orgasm.

“Oh God, no more!” she moaned as she recovered.

“Why not?” I asked, still lapping up her moisture.

“I can’t take it any more!”

“Too bad, you started this, so just hang on for the ride,” I said, easing a finger into her vagina while licking her engorged clit.

Liz seemed to forget about my handjob for a while, concentrating on the sensations I was giving her. That was all right. I knew we’d get back to me later, and I was still thirsty for more of her nectar. I pushed a second finger into her pussy and rubbed her little asshole with my other thumb, kissing and nibbling everywhere at once. When I found her g-spot, I began pumping vigorously in and out of her openings, licking everything my fingers weren’t stimulating.

“Oh, oh, oh God, oh shit, oh fuck,” she panted as she began to shake. Every plunge of my fingers against her little spongy spot was answered by a moan, and every push of my thumb into her ass brought a grunt. She was thrusting her hips now, caught up in her impending climax. When it finally came, she screamed as her pussy muscles clamped my fingers in place. Warm liquid pulsed from her spent pussy onto my face.

As soon as her muscles relaxed a little on my fingers, I started in again. This time, I grabbed a pussy lip between my lip-covered teeth and pulled. My fingers were pistoning rapidly in an out of her vagina, curling on each outward stroke to squeeze her g-spot. My thumb was busy with her ass, moving left and right, up and down, pushing against it, helping to drive her wild. My mouth was everywhere, licking around my fingers, lapping at her labia, play-biting the soft flesh of her inner thighs, and sucking on her clit.

By this time, Liz was bracing herself by pushing her hands against the ceiling of the van. Her head was thrown back, her long dark hair trembling with her movements. Her mouth was open in a scream, but no sound was coming out except for the rasp of her hyperventilation. She seemed to be cumming continuously now, sweat was trickling from her cleavage and stinging my eyes. She had lost all her earlier rhythm and was quivering and shaking violently. Fine streams of juice were being forced out around my fingers.

Suddenly, she reared back and collapsed on her side, pulling her treasures away from me. “I’m done,… I can’t,… please don’t make me,… oh God you have to stop!” she stammered.

I pulled her back on top of me, cradling her head on my chest and stroking her hair. “Calm down, baby, relax, rest, sleep,” I whispered as I caressed her.