She went home with a biker

I grinned to myself. The professor was still whispering as if she might be overheard by people in the room with me. “For the moment,” I answered her question. “Does that equipment of yours record the video feed?” I asked.

“No, why?” she asked, still whispering.

“You just missed a great threesome with your double and a friend,” I informed her.

The professor chuckled.

“Speaking of sex…” I said, “I thought I told you not to talk to me until you’d had some yourself,” I reminded her chidingly.

“I did,” the professor declared proudly, still whispering.

A beaming smile crossed my face. I felt oddly proud of the professor. “Good for you. Wait … are you whispering because he’s still there? Or she?” I asked.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “He’s asleep. You were right: it was so easy to pick up men in these clothes,” she told me.

“More offers than you knew what to do with?” I guessed, amused.

“Yes!” she affirmed, sounding surprised at her own luck.

“So: tell me what happened,” I cajoled. “Spare no detail.”

“Well … I found a low-cut top, like you asked, and a short skirt,” she began.

“Heels?” I prompted.

“Yes, high heels, too. And I went out to a bar, like you said. A seedy one,” she said, giggling.

“Seedy?” I repeated dubiously. I pictured a sports bar, thinking that was about as seedy as the repressed professor would have been able to manage.

“A biker bar!” she hissed proudly.

“Wow, really?” I asked, impressed at her daring.

“Mm-hmm,” she confirmed. “It felt like Hallowe’en, like a costume party: I really acted like some kind of slutty biker girl, flirting with everybody!” The professor sounded giddy, and I suspected that she was still slightly tipsy after a night of having plenty of drinks bought for her.

“Any girls?” I asked teasingly.

“No,” the professor admitted sheepishly. “There were a couple of pretty girls that I thought about trying to flirt with, but I didn’t think that bar was the right kind of place to try it. I was afraid of how some of the people there might react.”

I shrugged, though I realized immediately after doing so that the professor wouldn’t be able to see it, since she could only see through my own eyes. “Maybe so,” I conceded. “Our world isn’t like this place, unfortunately. So who did you eventually go home with?” I asked.

“Well … I was having trouble choosing, since all my flirting ended up getting four or five of the bikers to hang around me in a group, all trying to get me to pick them to go home with. But then one of them started to finger me right there in the bar, under my skirt!” she told me, giggling.

I laughed. “Could anybody else tell?” I asked her.

“I don’t think so,” she mused. “Maybe some of the other guys suspected he was copping a feel, but I don’t think they could tell how far he was going.”

“So you went home with him?” I asked.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “He wasn’t really the best-looking one, but I couldn’t stand the thought that I’d have had him finger me, then go home with somebody else.”

“I guess I can understand that,” I said. “What’s he like?”

“Well … he’s big.”

“Oh?” I asked with a teasing lilt to my voice.

“Not like that!” she hissed, giggling. “Well, okay, maybe like that,” she conceded. “Not big like you are, but a little big.”

I chuckled.

“But I meant: he’s tall, and kind of husky. Not fat, but burly, with a thick tummy. And he has lots of tattoos,” the professor described. “His head is shaved, but he has these thick sideburns.”

“Sounds like a charmer,” I said with some amusement.

“He’s kind of sweet, actually,” the professor told me, sounding a bit surprised herself. “Once we were back at my place, he was very nice. And the sex was very nice!” she giggled.

“Details, details!” I pressed her.

“Well … we kissed a little, and he played with my boobs,” she began.

“No surprise there,” I said. “I speak from experience: you have incredible breasts, professor.”

She giggled. “It’s funny: you’ve never touched mine,” she said. “But hers are just like them, so it’s almost like you have.”

“So, what did you two do next?” I prompted.

“I gave him a blowjob,” she related.

“Did he cum?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “He stopped me early: he wanted to fuck me,” she said, giggling.

“How?” I asked. “What position, I mean.”

“Missionary, at first,” she said. “Then he made me turn around, and we did it doggy-style.”

“Which did you like better?” I asked.

The professor giggled again. “Doggy-style,” she finally admitted.

“Did you come?” I asked.

“I did,” she admitted. “Twice, before he did.”

“Where did he cum?” I asked. “Inside you, or did he pull out?”

“He asked me, and I told him to cum on my boobs,” she related, giggling. “He missed, though. It went over my shoulder, then on my face a little, and then the rest fell on my legs. He wiped his thing off on my boobs after, though, so some still got on them.”

“What did you do with it?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” she asked, sounding puzzled.

“You double really likes to lick it up,” I explained. “What about you?”

Elizabeth gasped when I mentioned her double eating cum, then sighed a little. I suspected she’d touched herself. “No, nothing like that. I just left it at first, and I took a shower and changed the sheets later.”

“Next time, you should lick it up,” I suggested. “Your double likes doing it so much, I bet you will, too … unless the guy you’re with tastes especially bad, or something.”

“Okay, I will,” she promised, giggling.

“Did you do anything after?” I asked.

“We took a shower together,” she told me, “and he played with my boobs some more. He didn’t get hard again, though, so that was it. But when we went to bed, we kissed and cuddled for a while. That was really nice.”

“Glad to hear it,” I said, but then I shut up, because the professor’s doppelganger walked into the bedroom where I was waiting, her skin glistening slightly, and her hair wrapped in a towel. “Hello, beautiful,” I greeted her with a smile.

“Did I hear you talking to somebody?” she asked curiously.

“No,” I lied, “just talking to myself a little.”

“Oh?” she asked, amused. “What about?”

“I’m just amazed at how well today went,” I said, more honestly. “I got a new place to stay, a fun job, and had an incredible threesome.”

“You’re not done yet,” she told me with a lascivious grin, crawling into the bed with me.