lecturer

The lecture was boring. Even Natalie was bored, and she was delivering it. She looked at the ten faces in front of her, sagging with indifference and incomprehension. Is this what her life had come to? Trying to teach maths to engineering students at a provincial university. What had happened to the bright ambitious graduate she had once been? Here she was, almost 40, still in the same job she had had for the last 17 years, still single, unloved, unlovely, frustrated and bored to death. Is this all that life had to offer her? Three nights of the week at the gym to burn off the calories and frustration; Friday nights in a wine bar with other single women bitching and whining about how men only wanted 18-year-old girls with legs up to their armpits (is it any wonder, thought Natalie, with all the moaning we do?); and Saturday nights dinner at the homes of her married colleagues where she would be forced to listen to them all declaring how wonderful their children were. How had she come to this? Would no one rescue her? All she wanted was a rich handsome man to fall hopelessly in love with her and devote his life to satisfying her every desire. Was that too much to ask? Well, yes, of course it was. Being a maths lecturer, Natalie knew what the chances of her wish coming true were. Maybe she should go home right now and stick her head in the gas oven.



She realised she had lost her train of thought. In the sudden silence she scanned the faces before her. None seemed to register the fact that she had stopped talking. Perhaps she should stand there like that until the end of the lecture — would any of them notice? Well, perhaps two of them would. Her eyes rested on the only students who seemed to show any sign of life. What were their names? Rory and Scott. Bright 20-year-olds. The only ones whose work showed any promise.



“Are you all right, Miss?” asked Rory.



Natalie’s mind snapped back into focus. “Where was I?”



“The equation for a parabola,” said Scott without a pause.



“Thank you, Scott.” At least someone had been listening.



For the rest of the lecture she forced herself to put a bit of effort into her presentation — if only for the sake of Scott and Rory. Just because she was bored with delivering the same lecture year after year didn’t give her the excuse to take it out on them. She knew from her colleagues that they were good students across all their modules. They deserved the best she could give them.



Actually, they were rather good looking too, she decided, as she found herself directing more and more of her words at them. She remembered they were twins and that one of her single female colleagues had remarked longingly that they looked like young George Clooneys. In that case, Natalie had replied, I’d like to meet their father.



The lecture ended and the students headed for the door with new-found energy. Scott and Rory were the last. Whispering to each other they approached Natalie.



“Yes?”



“We just wanted to say,” started Rory.



“That we thought today’s lecture was pretty good,” finished Scott.



“Thank you,” said Natalie, taken aback. When was the last time a student had complimented her on a lecture? So long ago she couldn’t even remember it. “Your coursework is very good too, so I must be doing something right.”



“And we also wanted to say,” added Rory.



“That we like that skirt you’re wearing.”



“It really suits you.”



“We think you’re the best-looking lecturer in the whole University,” finished Scott.



And before the stunned Natalie could think of a reply, they were gone.



Best looking? Skirt? What were they talking about? That morning she had simply grabbed things out of the wardrobe at random, just as on every morning. True, she hadn’t worn this one for some time, and perhaps it was more colourful than her others and, now she looked at it, quite a bit shorter. And she was wearing higher heels than she usually did. Oh dear, had she really been showing that much leg?



In bed that night she lay thinking about Scott and Rory. Did they really find her attractive, or was this some trick to make her give them higher marks? It seemed unlikely, since they were already doing so well. Yet it seemed equally unlikely that two good-looking 20-year-old boys would find her in any way beautiful. She was almost old enough to be their mother, for goodness sake. Not that she didn’t have quite a good figure for her age, she told herself. Three nights a week at the gym hadn’t been entirely wasted. She still had firm thighs, a narrow waist and a reasonably self-supporting bosom. Oh don’t be ridiculous, she told herself. You canÕt compete with girls half your age. But still, the picture of Scott and Rory complimenting her wouldn’t go away. She opened her bedside cupboard and reached for her favourite vibrator.



The following week found Natalie wearing the same short skirt and high heels, plus a tight top with a rather daring neckline. What am I doing, she had asked herself standing in front of the wardrobe mirror that morning. For goodness sake, act your age. But she hadn’t changed. Why shouldn’t she dress for compliments? It wasnÕt as if she received so many she could afford to be indifferent to them when they came. It was a harmless enough pleasure, after all.



But as the students filed in and took their seats, her nerve failed her. She couldnÕt just parade in front of Scott and Rory, letting them see how much sheÕd taken their compliments to heart. She remained seated behind her desk. The lecture proceeded without incident. While the rest of the class looked as if they were on the point of falling asleep, Scott and Rory hung on her every word, taking copious notes and wearing expressions of rapt concentration. Their focus was infectious. After only 20 minutes Natalie found herself so taken up in the subject that she forgot how she was dressed and emerged from behind her desk to walk enthusiastically among the students as she talked. The end of the hour came almost without her noticing it, so engrossed had she become. But she did notice when Scott and Rory hung back again after the others had gone, just like the previous week.



“Another great lecture, Miss,” said Scott.



“And that top looks great on you,” added Rory. “You look amazing.”



And they were gone. Poor Natalie blushed to her roots. No one had ever described her as amazing, not even when she’d been young. It was completely ridiculous. It was almost making her cry. They were boys, for goodness sake. Pull yourself together. Anyway, the following week would be the last before the Christmas vacation. That would put a stop to all this nonsense.



But the following week came and once again Natalie found herself wearing the same short skirt, high heels and tight top. Had she become so desperate for signs of appreciation that she was prepared to seek them from 20-year-old boys? Well, yes, she had. Feeling rather brazen, she strode about the room on her long legs and delivered a lecture with such energy it even woke some of the other students from their lethargy. At the end of the hour she set them their vacation assignments and they filed out. As usual — and to Natalie’s mounting sense of anticipation — Rory and Scott were the last to go. Scott went to the door and closed it.



“What are you doing?” asked Natalie, a little alarm bell faintly ringing in her mind.



“It’s Christmas,” said Rory.



She turned to see that he was holding aloft a rather pathetic green twig with white berries.



“Mistletoe,” he explained, smiling broadly.



Oh dear, thought Natalie, he is so handsome when he smiles. The next thing she knew she was in ScottÕs arms and he was kissing her firmly on the mouth. More from reflex than anything else she tried to resist and cry out, but all that emerged was a muffled “mmmmÓ, which, let’s face it, could have meant anything. In any case Scott was so strong, after a moment she realised it was futile to struggle. His lips remained locked onto hers. It had been such a long time since she had been kissed at all, let alone so passionately. It was intoxicating. She felt herself wilting, going limp. She put her arms around him to stop herself from falling, another “mmmm” escaping her. She could hardly breathe. She opened her lips, only to find his tongue slipping between them. Oh Lord. It was too much. She could feel his erection pressing against her belly. How long was it since she had had that effect on a man? Her legs began to tremble at the thought.



Then Scott released her. She was free Ð admittedly unsteady on her high heels, but at least she could breathe again.



“My turn,” was all she heard before she was enveloped in Rory’s arms. Already weakened by ScottÕs embrace she could put up no resistance. His mouth found hers and she opened her lips to welcome it. Oh heavens, the touch of a man’s lips. How had she managed for so long without it? She didn’t care that they were those of a 20-year-old. He was a man, wasn’t he? They were both men. Definitely. She could feel his erection too. Was she the cause of that one as well? It seemed hardly possible. Surely they wanted girls their own age, not a middle-aged woman like her. Yet here she was, Rory’s tongue in her mouth, his erect cock hard against her stomach, his arms crushing the breath out of her. “Mmmm,” she moaned, hardly knowing whether it was in protest or pleasure. But then she was kissing him back. Her tongue found his, her arms went round his waist, her belly pressed against his upright cock. Happy Christmas, she thought idiotically.



That evening she went to the gym and pounded hell out of the treadmill. But even when she was lying on the sofa at home, exhausted and enjoying her reward of a glass of wine, she still felt tense and strung out. It was only after a third glass that she started to relax. Not that she could forget the two long Christmas kisses she had received — indeed, not that she wanted to. But at least the memory of them no longer made her want to run out into the street and scream in frustration.



That night she opened her legs wide to the ministrations of her vibrator, conjuring the picture of Rory kissing her breasts while Scott sucked on her clitoris. Whatever else she was short of, it certainly wasn’t an erotic imagination. She came after only a minute or two, long and fierce, her hips bucking up to meet the throbbing vibrator clutched between her aching thighs.



The vacation passed in a sort of torture. Visiting her sister’s family and being forced to act the doting aunt to her precocious children felt like a kind of madness, when all she wanted to do was lie in bed and think about Scott and Rory. Yet she knew that was also an insanity. What, after all, had happened? She had been kissed under the mistletoe by two of her students. That’s all. What else did she think was going to happen? She tried to put it all out of her mind. Scott and Rory were nice boys, but that was all. They’d played a silly game, but that was it. It was over. They’d had their fun at her expense and if they tried it again, she would simply tell them to stop. And if that failed, she would go to the Dean.



So it was a new, serious Natalie who awaited her students at the start of the term. She was determined to put boredom behind her. It was her fault if her students were indifferent, not theirs. She would put more effort into her classes. If this really were to be her life from now on, she would go down fighting.



Unfortunately the sight of the twinsÕ handsome faces smiling expectantly at her put all her new-found determination right out of her mind. Despite her resolve, she found herself stumbling and stuttering over her words as if she had never uttered them before. Truth to tell, it was all a bit of a disaster. Even the twins looked as if they were losing interest. At the end she rushed out of the room before any of the students could even stand.



At home she drank half a bottle of wine and told herself to get a grip. She was behaving like a schoolgirl with a crush. How had Scott and Rory got to her so easily? Was she really such a sad case?



By the time a week had passed she had lost the will to contradict herself. Yes, she was a sad case. She didn’t care any more. All she wanted were the smiles and compliments of the boys and to feel their mouths on hers and their stiff cocks against her belly. So she dressed in the short skirt and tight top and put on her high heels and waited for whatever might befall her.



The lecture passed in a sort of daze. The words came out but she hardly knew what she was saying. She paraded her long legs and cleavage in front of the boys, knowing only too well that she was putting on a show for them. She didn’t care. All she wanted was one more kiss. When the hour was up she felt so unsteady on her feet that she had to sit down. Only dimly did she become aware that Rory and Scott were standing in front of her and that the other students had left.



“Are you okay, Miss Natalie?” asked Rory, genuine concern in his voice.



“I’m fine,” she said, not feeling at all fine. Was she going to faint?



“You’d better drink this,” said Scott, holding a glass of water in front of her.



She gulped a couple of big mouthfuls. The cold water revived her almost instantly. The boys concerned faces moved into focus. How foolish she felt.



“I’m sorry. I’m alright now.” And to prove it to herself she stood, swaying only a little as she put her weight on the high heels.



She felt ScottÕs strong arm around her waist. “Steady, miss.”



“No really, I’m all right.” And just to prove it to herself, she put her arms around Scott’s neck and pulled his mouth down to hers. Oh, those lips, how she had missed them over Christmas. She drew back with a confident smile. “See?” And so as not to leave Rory out of the demonstration, she also kissed him.



“Okay,” he laughed when she had released him. “We believe you.”



“Now give us a proper kiss,” demanded Scott.



He grabbed her in a strong embrace and planted his mouth on hers. She could hardly breathe. His tongue came between her lips and found her own. She loved the wetness and firmness of it. His erection — how had it become so hard so quickly? — pressed against her belly, causing her to feel weak at the knees. And was that Rory kissing the nape of her neck? A shiver went all the way down her spine. How did he know that was one of her most sensitive spots? She could feel his hands on her waist. Both boys were holding her. She couldn’t escape now, even had she wanted to. Rory pressed into her from behind. She could feel his hard cock pressing against her bottom. Oh Lord. She was in a meat sandwich, she thought idiotically to herself. Then Rory’s hands moved up to cup her breasts. No, that was too far. She twisted in their grip, but succeeded only in rubbing their stiff cocks from side to side, which they quite reasonably took to be a sign of encouragement. Scott thrust his tongue further into her mouth as Rory found her swelling nipples through her top and brassiere. They seemed to leap with joy at his touch. No, don’t, she silently ordered them, please don’t. But they wouldn’t obey her. It was impossible. It felt lovely, but it was impossible. Any more and she would be helpless.



“No, stop.” She finally tore her mouth away from ScottÕs. “Stop now.”



With a confident smile and a last quick kiss Scott released her. Rory’s hands dropped from her breasts. She stepped away quickly.



“A kiss under the mistletoe was all right,” she said, aware that she sounded like a pompous prig. “But that was going too far.”



“It’s your fault,” said Scott, still wearing that confident smile. “We told you, youÕre amazing. We can’t help ourselves.”



“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Natalie. “Behave yourselves from now on and we’ll say no more about it.”



“Or what?” Rory’s question wasn’t rhetorical — it sounded genuine.



“Or I shall have to go to the Dean. And you know what will happen then.”



“But you don’t want to go to the Dean, do you?”



“Of course I don’t, but…”



“Then don’t. After all, you do like us kissing you, don’t you?”



“Yes, but…”



“Then why spoil things?” contributed Scott. “Besides, you’re the one wearing a short skirt, plunging neckline and high heels. The Dean might see that as encouragement.”



Natalie was silenced. A chill ran through her. It was true, in part she had encouraged the boys, and the Dean would no doubt see that all too clearly. Oh god, what had she got herself into?



“Don’t worry, Miss,” said Rory quickly. “We really like you. You’re fantastic and beautiful and sexy and we don’t want to get you into any trouble. Nothing is going to happen to you.”



“If you don’t want it to,” added Scott with that confident, maddeningly handsome smile.



“All right then,” said Natalie, not at all sure what ScottÕs last remark meant but aware that she had somehow put herself in their power. She was also still reeling a little from being described as beautiful and sexy. Was she, really?



“YouÕre lovely,” said Rory as if reading her mind, embracing her and giving her another kiss.



She allowed herself to be held then passed to Scott for yet another, but not before Rory had calmly given her breast a firm squeeze. ÒNo,Ó she muttered, but then she was in ScottÕs arms, his mouth on hers, his cock pressed lightly against her. It was making her breathless again. Before she knew what was happening, his hand was under the hem of her skirt and cupping her pussy. Oh God. For a brief moment she pressed herself against it, then tore herself away. ÒNo! Stop! Now.Ó



“Rory’s right,” said Scott, not at all fazed. “You are lovely. Don’t believe anything different. And next week,” he added, as they sauntered towards the door, “don’t wear any knickers or tights. Or else.”



And with final Ð suddenly sinister Ð smiles they were gone.



Natalie spent the next few days in turmoil. How had she allowed herself to get sucked into this? If she didn’t put a stop to it immediately, she would be at their mercy. Yet was the solution simply to report them to the Dean? How could she explain what had happened so far and still appear an innocent party? She didn’t feel particularly innocent and she suspected that the Dean would agree. There seemed no way out.



That Friday, when she was out with the girls, she tried confiding in Claire, the friend who had described Scott and Rory as young George Clooneys.



“Those two boys,” she started, when they were at the bar getting drinks, “you know, the ones you said were quite good looking…”



“Scott and Rory,” said Claire, giving her a look which said she knew damn well Natalie knew their names. “What about them?”



“Just before Christmas they kissed me under some mistletoe they brought in.”



“God, what did you do?” Claire looked at her friend with undisguised envy. “Did you rip their clothes off and shag them senseless?”



“Of course I didn’t.”



“Pity. I would have.”



“No, you wouldn’t.”



“No, I suppose I wouldn’t,” admitted Claire sadly. “All those sickeningly perfect girls to choose from — they would probably have run screaming from the room at the sight of my sagging tits. If theyÕre still around next Christmas, give me a call, will you?”



So much for advice, thought Natalie. Now what was she to do?



“Actually, if you want to take a look at their gorgeous young bodies,” suggested Claire, “they’re swimming in some inter-university competition on Sunday. Do you fancy going along, you know, support the team, up the college, ra-ra, scream ourselves sick like silly little schoolgirls?” Having Natalie with her wouldn’t make her own presence look so pathetic.



“All right,” said Natalie. What could be the harm in that?



The stands at the pool were dismayingly empty. The fixture wasn’t very important, neither was swimming a particularly popular spectator sport at the University. Natalie’s nerve faltered when she saw the rows of vacant benches.

“Let’s sit up the top.”



“Don’t be silly,” said Claire, taking her arm and leading the way to the front. “We shan’t be able to see anything up there.”



Fortunately a large crowd of rowdy supporters came in at that moment. They sounded as if they had been drinking. Then a few of the other seats were taken by excited looking girls, plainly there for exactly the same reason as Claire and Natalie. Scott and Rory were down for the later sprint events and relay, so they had to sit through races in which they had no interest whatsoever. It was as much as Natalie could do to stop herself yawning with boredom. She should go. This was ridiculous.



Then the twins walked out of the changing rooms. If it hadnÕt been for the fact that they looked so alike, she might not have recognised them in their swim-hats, especially when they also put on their goggles. But though their faces might have been obscured, Natalie would have known them by their bodies, even though she had never seen them before. Somehow she just knew those slim, hard, muscular frames were theirs. They almost took her breath away. Now she knew what six-pack meant. There was no sign of fat on either of them. Their shoulders were so broad, their hips so slim, their arms hung without touching their sides. They looked like Greek gods.



The noise from the girl spectators became deafening. The boys acknowledged them with languid salutes. At which point one of the boys — Scott, it looked like — noticed Natalie and Claire. Natalie immediately looked away, but it was too late. He had recognised her. He nudged Rory and whispered something in his ear and together they sent cocky smiles in her direction. Claire, of course, couldn’t help but notice.



“Aren’t you the dark horse? I wish they’d smile at me like that.”



“Were they smiling?” Natalie tried to keep her voice sounding innocent, but the blush creeping up her face gave her away. “I didn’t notice.”



Luckily for her, the swimmers were called to the start and the race was soon underway. Under the pretence of being interested in the outcome, she had time to compose herself. The boys were in two more races, including a relay, which followed in fairly swift succession. By the end of the last one — which they won easily, Scott and Rory separated by only an arm’s length in first and second places — she had almost become accustomed to the sight of their bodies cleaving effortlessly through the water. Or so she told herself. Unfortunately she was quite unprepared for them coming over to her and Claire afterwards, their chests rising and falling rapidly, their bodies dripping and shiny with water.



“What brings you here, miss?” asked Rory, all innocence. ÒSupporting the team?”



“It was very exciting,” said Claire with what she hoped was a seductive smile. “You boys are very good swimmers.”



Unfortunately for her, the boys only had eyes for Natalie. “We didn’t know you were interested in swimming, miss,” said Scott, taking his cap off and shaking out his hair.



“I’m not,” said Natalie, instantly realising that sounded a bit rude, and then almost as instantly realising it also implied that the only reason she was there was to see Scott and Rory. “I mean, we just happened to be passing…” she added, blushing in confusion.



“Oh, right,” said Scott, with a smile that said he didn’t believe a word. “Anyway, we’ll see you next week. And donÕt forget what we said,” he added with a wink.



Clare looked wistfully at their retreating figures. “Oh, just look at those buns,” she sighed. “What I wouldn’t give to get my hands on those.”



“Honestly, Claire,” said Natalie, annoyed with herself for having allowed her friend to put her in such an awkward situation and horrified at being reminded of ScottÕs parting instruction at the end of the previous class.



“Honestly, Claire,” mimicked the other woman. “If I didn’t know you better, I might think there was something going on.”



That night Natalie couldn’t keep the image of the two boysÕ near naked forms out of her mind. Their brief swimming trunks had left little to the imagination. Besides, she had already felt what was hidden beneath them, and in a much more aroused state. The picture of their erections bursting from the tops of their trunks kept coming to her, making her breath quicken and her pussy itch. She tried to think of other things. She told herself she was being idiotic, unprofessional. She had to get them out of her mind. Then there was this ludicrous instruction of theirs, more of an order even, that she shouldnÕt wear knickers or tights to the next lecture. Of course she would take no notice. The idea was absurd, outrageous. How dare they even suggest such a thing, even as a joke — which is undoubtedly what they meant it to be?



On the other hand, suppose they had been serious? Given that she had already allowed them to kiss her — on two occasions — and she hadn’t reported them to anyone, didn’t that give them a hold over her? What might they do if she didn’t obey them? She had behaved improperly with them, there was no doubt about that. She couldnÕt trust them. They were quite capable of reporting her. HadnÕt Scott threatened as much? Then what would happen to her? She could easily lose her job. She could even lose her entire career.



Of course, worries multiply at night. Lying alone in the dark, Natalie’s mind ran on into increasingly dire and awful eventualities, no matter that a small part of her knew she was exaggerating her situation out of all proportion. They werenÕt bad boys. They would never do anything to harm her. Hadn’t they explicitly said so? In fact, they werenÕt boys at all. They were gorgeous fully grown men with bodies to die for. She imagined herself drying them with a large towel after their swimming, running a hand down their chests, feeling those perfect buttocks, touching those hard thighs. Oh god, what was she thinking? Stop it. Stop it right now.



Come the day of the next lecture she wore tights and knickers. True, she’d had to bring herself to an orgasm with her vibrator before she could get to sleep the night of the swimming competition, but that was then. Now she was back in control.



Or so she thought. As the hour of the lecture approached she became more and more nervous, less and less sure of herself. They would know that she hadn’t obeyed them; they would stay behind and they would check. Then what might they do? Was it a risk she could take? Maybe it would be better to do this one last thing, then tell them that was it. She couldn’t afford to upset them. It was the safest thing to do.



She went into the ladies and slipped off her tights and knickers and put them in her bag. Pulling her short skirt down as low as it would go Ð it hadnÕt occurred to her not to wear it, or the high heels Ð she walked into the lecture hall and sat down, determined to remain seated for the whole hour. And so she did, refusing even to rise to write on the white board, her favourite teaching aid. Instead, she set the class a series of problems to solve, hoping the task might also take the twinsÕ minds off their instruction to her.



Some hope.



As the hour passed — far too rapidly for Natalie’s liking — she became more nervous. Too late she realised that setting the students a series of problems had been a mistake. Now she would be unable to leave the room early. She would have to stay to collect their solutions. And of course Rory and Scott would make sure they were the last. Why hadn’t she thought of that?



True enough, when the class ended Rory and Scott hung back until the other students had left.



“How did you find the problems?” she asked them, vainly hoping she could keep their minds on work.



“To tell you the truth, Miss,” said Rory, “they were a bit easy. And you could always have given them to us as an assignment.”



“We prefer it when you talk to us,” said Scott. “That way we learn more.”



He gave her a suggestive smile. Oh god, thought Natalie, Claire was so right — he really does look like a young George Clooney. He walked towards the door and for a brief moment she thought they were going to leave. Had they forgotten what they had asked her to do?



Of course not. Scott closed the door and came back. “I see you’ve done at least one of the things we asked.”



“What do you mean?” said Natalie in a sudden panic. “What are you talking about?”



“We can see you’re not wearing any tights,” said Rory. “You shouldn’t wear them ever. You have fantastic legs.”



“Of course I don’t,” protested Natalie, hugely flattered and blushing to her roots. No one had ever said anything complimentary about her legs before.



“The question is,” he continued, “did you do the other thing too?”



Oh God, this was it. “Well, I’m certainly not going to show you,” she stated in as firm a voice as she could manage, at the same time standing so as to feel at less of a disadvantage. “You’ll just have to take my word for it.” Why she didn’t just tell them to mind their own business we shall never know. The fact is she didn’t.



“We couldn’t do that,” said Scott firmly, stepping close to her.



She retreated, only to find herself enveloped in Rory’s arms. “No,” she protested, but then his lips were on the back of her neck and further protest died on her lips. “Please,” was all she could manage. His hands moved up to cup her breasts. Shrinking away from them only pressed her more into his embrace. She could feel that hard familiar object between the cheeks of her bottom. She tried to wriggle free, but as before, all that achieved was to rub his cock backwards and forwards over her. She pulled his hands away from her breasts with surprising ease. For a moment she thought that he was going to let her go. But no. Before she had time to realise what was happening, his hands had found the hem of her skirt and swiftly lifted it to her waist.



“No!” she cried, but it was too late. They had seen her nakedness. They knew she had obeyed them. Hurriedly she pushed the skirt down again.



“Don’t hide it,” said Scott. “It’s beautiful.”



“So it may be, but it’s mine and its private.”



“No it isn’t. It’s there to be shared, to be enjoyed by me and Rory. And you want it to be, don’t you?”



To Natalie the idea was so outrageous that she was struck dumb for a moment. How to answer such an absurd suggestion? Unfortunately her silence was taken as agreement by the boys. The next thing she knew, Rory had taken her arms and was holding them in a strong grip behind her back. Scott reached forward, lifted the hem of her skirt and tucket it in the waistband.



“No, don’t!”



Her cry was in vain. Rory was so strong, she couldn’t move. She could do nothing to prevent Scott looking where he wanted to: up and down her legs, at the thin strip of hair she had so carefully trimmed the night before.



“So you did expect us to check,” he said with that maddeningly self-confident smile. “Good. It looks very pretty.”



Natalie turned her head away and closed her eyes. Was there anything more humiliating than this?



Well, yes, there was.



Even with her eyes closed she knew when a camera flash went off.



“No, please,” she pleaded. This was going too far.



“Don’t worry,” Rory reassured her. “It’s just for us. Something for us to look at when you’re not around. We’re not going to post it on the Internet or anything.”



This was awful. Now they had a photograph of her revealing her naked pussy. “Please. Let me go.” She was almost near tears.



Immediately she felt Rory’s grip loosened. She untucked her skirt and smoothed it down. “Please delete it.”



“If that’s what you want,” said Scott, “then we will. But donÕt you want to look at yourself first. You look beautiful, really you do.”



Her first instinct was to say no, she could think of nothing worse than to see herself in such a position. But then a little devil of curiosity took hold of her. “Show me, then.”



Scott held out the camera to her. Oh god, it was worse than sheÕd thought. There she was, leaning back against Rory, her head turned away, her naked legs and pussy bare for all to see. Rory’s hands were hidden, so it didn’t look as if she was being held by him at all. She looked as if she were willingly leaning back against him, her face turned away coquettishly rather than in shame. She looked more as if she were offering herself than fighting to preserve her modesty.



“See, you look really sexy,” said Scott.



“I don’t,” muttered Natalie. “I look like something from a pornographic website.” Why she chose that for comparison she had no idea. She had only ever looked at two or three, and those only by accident.



“You do,” insisted Rory. “We don’t know why you don’t have guys queueing up. All our friends think you’re amazing. They’ve all got hard-ons for you.”



Natalie didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or flattered at being described in such terms. An image flashed before her of her picture on a computer screen and students furiously masturbating in front of it. No. This had to stop.



“I don’t believe you. In any case, I don’t care if it’s true or not. This has gone far enough. You’ve had your fun. I know I should have stopped you sooner, but I didn’t. So that makes me partly to blame — more to blame, since I’m older than you and in a position of responsibility. So I shan’t go to the Dean. You know I shan’t. So I’m asking you — not telling you, because I know that youÕre decent boys who don’t want to humiliate me — to stop this before it goes any further.”



It was quite a speech. Whether it had any real effect on Scott and Rory is unlikely, but Natalie wasn’t to know that.



“Okay,” said Scott with what looked like a sympathetic smile, “I’ll delete it.” He pressed a couple of buttons and showed her the blank screen with the word “deleted”.



“Thank you,” she sighed with relief. “Now I’d better go and put my underwear back on.”



“I think you should give us each a last kiss,” said Rory. “Just to show there’s no hard feeling.”



“Admit it, miss,” said Scott, advancing on her, “you do like being kissed, don’t you?”



Natalie had been brought up not to lie. (Weren’t we all? Only with her it had stuck.) So she didn’t answer. Silence that the boys took as acquiescence. An instant later she was in ScottÕs arms and his mouth was on hers. Oh God, those lips. She would drown in them. She closed her eyes, the better to savour the tongue that was slipping into her mouth. Oh God, yes. His long hard cock pressed against her belly. She felt Rory’s arms come around her waist, his lips on the back of her neck, his hands moving to cup her breasts. Oh god, it felt so good to be held. “Mmmm.Ó A murmur of pleasure escaped her. She pressed her lips against ScottÕs, slipped her tongue between his teeth. If this was to be their last kiss, she wanted to be able to remember it for ever. She wanted them to press harder, for Rory to squeeze her breasts, for Scott to press his cock against her. Unfortunately — at least for a brief moment — the opposite happened. Rory released her breasts, but only so that he could deftly lift both her top and her bra. Momentarily her breasts were free and open, only to be grasped again in his firm hands. A muffled cry of protest was cut off by ScottÕs lips. She could do nothing. She felt Rory’s hands caressing her, squeezing her, pinching and teasing her nipples. Oh god. She felt them swell and stiffen. How long had it been since they had been touched like that? Against her will, her body pressed them harder into his hands. More, it was silently crying out, more.



This also had the effect of making her press harder against Scott. His cock felt like a rod of iron. Was it really that big? Probably not, but by this time her emotions and senses were so aroused that everything seemed exaggerated. In her high heels she was almost tall enough for it to rub against her pelvic bone, but not quite. Involuntarily her body tried to raise itself. She wanted to feel it against her pussy. Oh God, what was she doing? With her last ounce of willpower, she tried to back away. Unfortunately that gave Scott just enough room to slip his hands under the front of her skirt and lift it to her waist. Too late she felt the cool air on her naked pussy. “No, don’t, please.”



But then his hand was cupping her and all rational thought went out of her mind. She tried to bring her legs together but they wouldn’t obey her. If anything, they moved further apart to give ScottÕs fingers more freedom to explore. A finger slipped between her lips, then another. Oh god. Moistened, they withdrew and slid up and down her eager crack. No, she couldn’t let them do this.



“Don’t, please. Someone will come.”



“Then you’d better not struggle. Just do what we say. Enjoy it.”



“No. Please.” But even to her own ears her voice sounded unconvincing. She was almost on the point of asking them to hurry, but managed to bite off the words before they came out. She was helpless in their grip, even though they no longer held her as firmly as before. Rory was caressing her tits while kissing her neck and Scott was merely impaling her on his fingers. She could have got free at any time. But she didn’t. The truth was she didn’t want them to stop. She realised now that she had wanted this from the moment they had first kissed her under the mistletoe. Not in a lecture hall, true, where anyone might walk in — but, yes, she had wanted it. She looked down at herself leaning back against Rory’s supporting body, her bra and top pushed up to her neck, her naked breasts in Rory’s hands, her skirt gathered at her waist, ScottÕs fingers roughly exploring her naked pussy. She felt so turned on she would have stripped off all her clothes if they had asked her to. Please, she wanted to cry out, fuck me, fuck me now!



But that wasn’t in the boysÕ plan.



For what seemed like a quarter of an hour — but was in fact only a couple of minutes — they played freely with her tits and pussy, until she was almost beside herself. Her nipples were like a couple of stones, her pussy was dripping. She desperately needed release, though she couldn’t bring herself to ask for it.



“Sit on the desk,” Scott ordered her. “We want to take a look at your beautiful cunt.”



Poor Natalie had hardly heard the word before, let alone had it addressed to her. Yet it turned her on even more. Yes, she had a cunt and she wanted them to put their cocks in it. She sat on the edge of the desk, the boys in front of her.



“Open your legs,” ordered Rory. “Wide.”



She did so, feeling lewd and wanton.



“Wider,” said Scott without touching her.



She was now prepared to do anything for them. She leant back, supporting herself on her elbows, and threw her legs as wide apart as she could. She knew she was displaying herself as crudely as it was possible to do, but she didn’t care. The boys put a hand on each of her legs, gently pushing them even further apart. Her pussy gaped wetly before them.



“You have a beautiful pussy,” said Rory.



“Really lovely,” said Scott. ÒWhat a dirty slut you are, miss.Ó



She felt his fingers on her lips, teasing them apart, then Rory’s sliding into her, then out, touching her clitoris ever so briefly. Oh god.



“Please,” she heard herself say.



“Please what, slut?” asked Scott.



“Please hurry. Please.”



“See.” He turned triumphantly to Rory. “I told you we could make her beg for it.”



Even in her frenzied state Natalie knew she’d heard something terrible, but she was too far gone to protest now. “Yes, I’m begging you, please hurry.”



Even when two more camera flashes went off she didn’t move, though she could easily have done so. She didn’t care any more. All she cared about was coming. The sooner the better.



“Almost done,” Rory reassured her. “Not long now.”



What on earth was that supposed to mean, thought Natalie. But then all thought went out of her head. Rory’s mouth was on her pussy. “Oh God, yes.” No one had ever kissed her pussy before. It was more wonderful than she could possibly have imagined.

Unfortunately it didn’t last long enough for her to savour it. After only a few seconds his mouth was gone. Fortunately it was replaced almost immediately by ScottÕs.



“Yes, there.” He was kissing her clit, teasing it, sucking it. Oh god, please don’t let him stop.



But God couldn’t have been listening. No sooner had she thought the prayer than ScottÕs mouth also disappeared. “No! Please.” Her voice was desperate, pitiful. Didn’t they realise how much she needed to come?



“You’re right, Miss,” she heard Rory’s voice. “We’d better stop. Someone might come.”



No. No, please.



“But don’t worry, slut,” said Scott. “There’s always next week.”



No, don’t stop, don’t go. I need to come. Please.



Of course they could hear none of this. Seemingly oblivious of her need, they took one look at her near-naked form spreadeagled on the desk, sauntered over to the door and were gone.



Almost in tears with shame and frustration, Natalie struggled to her feet. She could barely stand. Her legs felt like jelly. Hardly knowing what she was doing she pulled her bra and top into approximate position and smoothed her skirt down. She could feel dampness between her thighs, a still urgent need in her pussy. She had to go home. She couldnÕt stay there, not in that state. Fortunately she had no more classes. She went to the ladies, put on her tights and knickers and fixed her smudged makeup. Certain that everyone could tell what she had been doing, she hurried through the campus acknowledging no one and spent the rest of the day in bed.



She couldn’t sleep. She lay tossing and turning, consumed with shame and humiliation. She could hardly believe what had happened. It seemed like some horrible nightmare that she couldn’t forget. Every time she closed her eyes she saw herself lying on the desk, her clothes pulled up, her breasts and pussy exposed. Oh God, how had she allowed it to happen? She had to be honest, they hadn’t really forced her. If she had really wanted to, she could have got away from them at any time. They had never held her tightly. And she could always have screamed for help. Someone would have come. Or more likely, Scott and Rory would have run a mile. But no, she had done nothing. She had let them do what they wanted with her. Worse, she had done exactly what they had asked her to do. She replayed the events in their awful detail. How she had let Rory fondle her tits. How she had let Scott expose her naked pussy. How she had leaned back on the desk and wantonly spread her legs. They hadn’t even needed to force her. Oh god. How could she have done it? Had she so completely lost her mind? Had she wanted them so badly?



Even now, lying in bed, almost in tears, she could feel the touch of their lips on her pussy. Despite herself, the memory made her hot. She could feel that familiar insatiable itch between her legs. Oh no, surely she wasn’t turned on. She couldn’t be. But she was. Her face buried in the pillows, she could feel her pelvis pressing into the mattress, trying to find something hard to rub against. No, please God, no, she couldn’t. But the more she tried to deny what she was feeling, the more her feelings asserted themselves. Her body remembered only too well the touch of ScottÕs and Rory’s lips upon her pussy, even if her mind tried to forget it. Her clit was throbbing at the memory. It demanded attention. It had to be satisfied. Deeply shameful though it was, she knew she would have to make herself come, otherwise she would never get to sleep. She reached for her vibrator and spread her legs wide.



For the rest of the week she pleaded sickness. She didn’t even go out with the girls on Friday night. Claire phoned and asked if she was all right. Yes, she was fine, just some minor bug. Briefly, she considered changing her name and leaving the country. But by the end of the weekend she was almost over it. She had decided that it was just a nightmare and that now it was over. She would take no more notice of Scott and Rory and their games. She would give them not one single twitch of encouragement. She would be professional and aloof. And if they tried anything further with her, she would simply walk away. What could they do?



What she tried to forget — but didn’t entirely succeed in doing — was the uncomfortable fact that they had photographs of her. She couldn’t deny that it put her at a disadvantage. If the boys were so minded, they could ruin her life with those photographs. The thought made her blood run cold. Yet she didn’t think that they were really that cruel. For all the fear they inspired in her, they didn’t seem to be downright malicious. Besides, the photographs would be useless to them once published. Her career would be ruined, but they would no longer have any control over her.



So come the day of the next lecture Natalie wore a conservative trouser suit and low heels. She would show them from the start that she had had enough of their games. It was a mistake, of course, but she wasn’t to know that. The lecture proceeded uneventfully. She was gratified to see that she could face the boys calmly and that they in turn didn’t indulge in any leers or winks or other gestures of familiarity. It was almost disappointing. At the end she collected her notes as the students filed out. It almost came as a surprise when, as usual, Scott and Rory remained behind.



“Yes?” she asked in her most professional voice.



And this time she didn’t get up. If they had the idea of doing anything to her now, they would have to drag her to her feet.



“We just wanted to say we’re sorry,” said Rory.



“We heard you were off sick,” said Scott. “We hope it wasn’t anything we did.”



“It was just a bug,” Natalie said, realising too late that was almost tantamount to saying she had no complaints about what they had done. “But that’s not to say,” she added quickly, “that what you did wasn’t very wrong.”



“We know,” said Rory. “We just got carried away.”



“It’s because you’re so beautiful and sexy,” said Scott. “We couldn’t help ourselves.”



“That’s no excuse,” said Natalie, feeling more confident now. “And you know it. Anyway, I accept your apologies. Let’s say no more about it.”



The boys faces broke into beaming smiles of what Natalie took to be gratitude and relief. Really, they were both very handsome.



“Thanks, Miss,” said Rory. “No hard feelings?”



“Let’s just concentrate on maths, shall we?”



“Trouble is,” said Scott, “it’s kind of difficult with someone like you standing in front of us. You don’t know how distracting it is.”



“Now that’s the kind of thing I mean,” said Natalie, trying to sound stern but succeeding only in sounding a bit petulant. “You know you shouldn’t say such things.”



“But theyÕre true,” insisted Rory. “You are distracting. It’s difficult to think of binomials when someone as beautiful as you is looking at us.”



“And wearing that trouser suit doesn’t hide it,” added Scott. “Even in that you look sexy. We’ve both had terrible hard ons ever since you walked in.”



“Stop it. Just stop it.” How did they do it? How did they twist everything around to sex? She could feel her heart beating. Despite herself, her eyes drifted down to their crotches. It was true. Their erect cocks were clearly visible beneath their tight jeans. Oh god. Quickly she moved her gaze upward, but not quickly enough.



“See?” said Scott triumphantly. “See what effect you have on us? You would have to wear a tent if you wanted to stop this happening to us.”



“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t blame those on me. Knowing you two, you’ve probably been playing with yourselves for the last hour.” Oh no, why on earth had she said that? She was playing their game. Stand up. Walk out. Now. The trouble was she didn’t trust her legs to support her. So she just sat there, already beginning to feel at their mercy.



“Even now,” said Rory, “when you’re sounding all cross and professorial, they won’t go down. Your voice is so sexy.”



“I don’t believe you. They’re probably not even real. It’s one of your games. You’ve got something stuffed down there.” What was she saying? Just get up. Now, before it’s too late.



“Oh, so you don’t believe us?” said Scott. “Okay, just feel.” Before she could resist, he grabbed her hand and put it on the bulge at the front of his jeans. Oh God, how hard it felt. “Real enough for you?”



She couldn’t speak. Her fingers instinctively felt the length of him. It seemed huge. Even when he took his hand away she didn’t move hers. Rory took her other hand and placed it on his own bulge. It felt quite as large. Well, they were twins after all, the idiotic thought came into her mind.



“Satisfied?” said Scott. “Or perhaps you’d like to see them just to be absolutely sure?”



She couldn’t speak. She seemed to have something stuck in her throat. Her hands seemed to have wills of their own. They moved up and down, her fingers feeling the hard length of the boysÕ cocks.



“Go on then,” she heard Scott say. “Take them out.”



She shook her head mutely. She couldn’t. Then take your hands away, she told herself. But she couldn’t do that either. Were those cocks really that big because of her?



“Go on,” reiterated Rory. “You know you want to.”



As if in a dream, she saw her hand move to the buckle of ScottÕs belt and undo it. Her fingers found the zip and drew it down. Oh god, there it was. He was wearing no underwear. She pulled the jeans apart and slid them down his hips. Freed, his cock sprang forward, its swollen red head pointing directly at her. It was so large, so hard, so proud.



She took it in her hand. When was the last time she had had an erect cock in her hand? So long ago she could hardly remember. It fitted so comfortably in her hand. So hard, yet so soft. She could feel all its little ridges and bumps, the lip of the crown, the smooth round head. Oh no, she was stroking it. How had that happened? It felt so good. She looked up at Scott. He was smiling down at her.



“Does that feel real enough, Miss? Don’t you want to check Rory’s too?”



As if under a spell she let go of ScottÕs cock, unbuckled Rory’s belt and unzipped his jeans. His almost identical cock sprang into view. So identical twins were identical all over. The thought made her smile.



“Like what you see, Miss?” asked Rory.



She gave a small nod. It was all she could manage, her heart was beating so fast. Thank goodness she was sitting down, otherwise she might have fallen down. She put a hand on each cock. Oh god.



“I bet you’ve never had two cocks in your hands before, Miss. How do you like it?”



“They’re very hard,” she murmured. “I like that.”



“You can stroke them if you like,” said Scott magnanimously. “But not too much.”



“Thank you,” she heard herself say. What on earth was she thanking them for? Was she mad? She had their naked erect cocks in her hands — it was she who had them at her mercy, not the other way round. Yet she did as she was told. It was as if her will had been sucked from her. She proceeded to stroke them both, using the same gentle pressure and slow speed. It was a wonderful sensation feeling their hard cocks slipping between her fingers, softly teasing the slits with her fingertips. Although it had been years since she had done this, she wanted them to know she was no amateur. She looked at their faces. Judging from their expressions she was certainly giving them pleasure. It gave her a certain amount of satisfaction. Maybe she did have power over them after all. Her beauty and sexiness had made them hard — now her skill would make them come. Then they would see who had the whip hand.



It was just at this moment of naive self-delusion when Scott broke the spell. “You can stop now, Miss.”



“But I thought you wanted me to make you…”



“Yes, but we decide when, not you. Stand up.” His voice had acquired a sharper edge. Certainly sharp enough to make Natalie do as he said. She stood.



“Take your clothes off. We want to see you naked.”



“I can’t do that,” protested Natalie, immediately thrown into a panic. “What if someone comes?”



“Then youÕd better do it quickly,” advised Rory. “Otherwise we’ll have to do it for you.”



“I can’t,” pleaded Natalie. “Please don’t make me.”



“It’s your fault for wearing a trouser suit. If only you had worn what you wore last week we wouldn’t have to tell you to strip.”



ÒNo. Please.Ó



It was too late. Rory’s hands were already on her shoulders, taking her jacket off.



“No, don’t.”



She tried to grab it, but he simply pushed her hands away. In a moment it was off and thrown on her chair. At the same time ScottÕs hands were at the waistband of her trousers. Hands were all over her. She tried to push them away but it was no use. The next thing she knew her trousers were unzipped and sliding down her legs.



“No, don’t!”



“Ssshh,Ó Rory murmured in her ear. “Someone might hear you. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”



His fingers unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off her shoulders. She stood in nothing but bra and tights.



“No more, please.”



It was a vain request. She felt Rory’s hands at the fastening of her bra, then her breasts were free. Oh god. Her hands instinctively covered them. Which unfortunately left Scott free to slip his hands into the waistbands of her tights and knickers and in one smooth movement slide them down to her feet. With a last gesture of resistance she tried to keep her feet firmly planted on the floor, but it was no use. One by one he gripped each ankle, lifted it and removed knickers, tights, trousers and shoes. She was naked. She didn’t know where to put her hands. The boys gazed at her unabashed. Feeling utterly humiliated she turned her head away.



“You’re so beautiful,” she heard Scott say. “Don’t try to hide it.”



She felt Rory’s hands on her breasts from behind, caressing them, squeezing them.



“You have amazing tits, miss. Really firm.”



She could feel his naked erect cock against her bottom. If anything, it felt even larger than before. ScottÕs hands were at her waist, then caressing her belly, sliding down to her pussy.



“No, please.”



For answer he took her hand and placed it on his erect cock. Instinctively she grasped it, even though her mind screamed at her not to. She opened her eyes, just in time to see Scott lean forward and place his mouth on hers. She tried to twist away but his other hand held her head too firmly. His tongue forced its way between her teeth. It felt almost like the cock she had in her hand. A moan came from deep within her. Oh god, it felt so good to be kissed. She was finding it difficult to catch her breath. She moved her hand up and down the hard cock.



“That’s right, miss. Now you can play with it.”



“You can have mine too.” Rory took her other hand and placed it on his cock. Oh god. A cock in each hand. What was she doing? What was happening to her? The boys stood close to her, taller by a good six inches, so good-looking. They smiled confidently down at her as she held their stiff cocks in her hands. Rory caressed her tits and squeezed her nipples while Scott cupped her pussy and slipped a finger between her moist lips. Stark naked she felt absolutely vulnerable, completely at their mercy. She felt like their plaything.



“Let me go, please.” She said it almost out of habit by then, with no hope that they would listen. She was right.



“We can’t do that, miss,” said Rory. “We can’t let you go running out naked, now can we? What would people think?”



“What do you want me to do?”



“We want you to show us what a good little slut you are,” said Scott. “We want you to show us how much you like having two cocks in your hands.”



So that was it. They wanted her to make them come. It was almost a relief. At least they weren’t going to fuck her. At least some of her dignity would remain intact. Not that she had much left. Neither did she have much spirit of resistance. RoryÕs squeezing of her nipples and ScottÕs exploring of her pussy were having an all too predictable effect on her. Scott’s fingers were slipping in and out of her with ease her pussy had become so wet. Every now and then his fingers would graze her eager clitoris and it would send a little electric shock down her legs. She responded by stroking their cocks rhythmically, hoping she was doing it right, hoping she was giving them pleasure. Hoping, above all, that she could make them come quickly.



“That’s good,” murmured Scott. “You like having a cock in your hand, don’t you?”



She didn’t answer. The truth was, she did, but she wasn’t going to admit it. She liked the feel of the cocks, their hardness, their length, their smooth crowns. Above all she liked knowing that she was the one making them hard. She tried not to think about the fact that she was naked in a university lecture hall and that anyone might come in at any time. Her nakedness seemed to excite the boys even more, so perhaps it was a good thing — it should make them come all the more quickly. At least, that’s how she explained it to herself. In truth, a good part of her was beginning to enjoy being naked. For almost the first time in her life, she was truly excited. Her heart was beating as fast as she had ever known it, her legs were trembling. She felt like a performer in some raunchy pornographic film. She felt wild, wanton, uninhibited — yet also panic stricken, terrified out of her wits. She had never felt so alive.



“Lie on the desk,” said Rory. “Your legs are beginning to shake.”



Without waiting for an answer the boys lifted her onto the desk. She lay back and they parted her legs so that Scott could continue playing with her pussy. They stood on either side so she could easily grasp a cock with each hand. Now if anyone came in they would have a perfect view of the whore she had become: her spread legs, her gaping pussy, her busy hands eagerly stroking the cocks inches away from her face. She didn’t care. It was too late to stop now. All she wanted was to make them come. And she didn’t much care where — on her tits, her face, anywhere. She gripped them harder, moved her hands faster.



“Oh yes, miss. That’s good,” moaned Rory, looking down at her with hooded eyes.



“That’s right, you dirty little cock lover,” murmured Scott. “Make us come.”



Disappointingly, his fingers left her pussy, which proceeded to hump the air in a desperate search for them. He stood with his hands on his hips, letting her do all the work on his cock.



“Look at the little slut. See how much her cunt wants to be played with.”



Yes, it does, thought Natalie, but she couldn’t bring herself to say so. No more pleading, she vowed. From the movements of their hips she knew that the boys were getting close. Rory, in particular, seemed almost on the point of coming. His breathing was getting ragged.



“Ah! Ah! That’s it. That’s it.”



She speeded her stroking. She couldn’t take her eyes off his swollen cock, the purple head, the slit from which his come would soon shoot.



“Yes! Yes! I’m coming. I’m going to come all over your tits.”



“That’s right, Rory,” she heard herself encouraging him. “Come all over me. I want you to.”



His cock began to jerk in her hand. She pointed it at her welcoming tits. A stream of come shot out and landed on them. Then another. And another.



“Ah! Ah! I’m coming. I’m coming. Oh yes. Yes.”



More drops of come dribbled onto her as she continued to milk him. He moaned in ecstasy, looking at Natalie’s come-covered skin. She smiled up at him, then, as he watched, proceeded to spread it all over her, enjoying its warm stickiness.



ÒDo you like me doing that, Rory?Ó



ÒOh yes, very hot.Ó



All this time she had not forgotten Scott. Even at the moment of Rory’s climax she had still kept up a steady rhythm on his cock.



“That’s right,Ó he said approvingly. ÒNow it’s my turn. I’m going to come on your face.”



She smiled up at him. “Good. That’s where I want you to come.” She was gratified to see a flicker of surprise cross his face.

Categories
April 2017
M T W T F S S
« Feb    
 12
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
24252627282930
Categories