Double Dirty Mountain Men: An MFM Menage Romance

by Parker Grey

  As he unlocks his office door, he nods at me, and I follow him in nervously, sitting in a chair while he takes his outer layers off. He sits behind his desk and rubs one hand over his balding head.

  Then he sighs.

  “I might as well get right to it,” he says. “Ethan Sharpe tells me that you’re in a relationship with him.”

  My face flushes bright, bright red.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says, and leans back in his chair. “Melody, I have to tell you that while it’s not against policy for students to become involved with professors, as long as they’re not in that professor’s class, it’s rarely a good idea.”

  I swallow and try to think of something to say, but my mind goes blank.

  “On the other hand, I’ve been divorced twice, so it’s not like I could give much good relationship advice. You’re not being coerced or anything, are you?”

  I shake my head, and he nods, then grabs a list from the side of his desk.

  “Okay then,” he says. “Last but not least, we need to get you a new advisor.”

  I call Professor Sharpe the moment I’m out of the Classics Department. It’s a bright, sunny day, even though there’s snow on the ground, so it’s nearly blinding outdoors.

  “Melody,” he answers, breathlessly.

  “Why’d you tell?” I ask, standing on a street corner, watching cars go by.

  “I wanted you to know I was serious,” he says, his voice quick and low. “I want us to be together, Melody. Really together, because there’s no one else and there never will be, and I didn’t want to hide anymore.”

  I pause. There never will be? Really?

  My heart skips a beat.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” he says.

  I clear my throat.

  “That’s okay,” I say. “I... I’m sorry I freaked out and called you a liar.”

  I think I can hear him smile over the phone.

  “Forgiven,” he says. “Do you have class today? I want to show you how sorry I am.”

  My heart beats faster, and my pussy throbs. I do have class, but Linguistics 240 has a pretty lenient absence policy — I can miss four whole classes before it affects my grade.

  Meaning I can miss one today.

  “No,” I say. “Not anymore.”

  “Good,” he says. “Meet me at your apartment.”

  Chapter 26

  Professor Sharpe

  I’m already standing outside her building when Melody walks up. I was supposed to teach today, but I emailed my Latin 102 students that I’m not feeling well and canceled class.

  I don’t need class, I need her.

  “Hey,” she says when she walks up, bundled up and braced against the cold. “Professor, I’m sorry I—”

  I don’t let her finish her sentence. I just kiss her, her face cold but her lips warm. For the first time, we’re out in the open, standing on the street, where anyone could see us.

  It feels incredible.

  When she pulls back there’s a mischievous sparkle in her eye, and she bites her lip quickly. I still don’t think she knows she’s doing it, but I’m already rock hard watching her.

  “Did you come by just for that?” she asks slyly. “Or do you want to come in? Erica’s in class all day.”

  I kiss her again and push her gently toward her apartment door. The moment we’re inside, still taking off her hat and scarves and gloves, I kiss her again, more urgently this time and she yields below me, her soft, warm body ready for taking.

  I slide my hands under her shirt, unfasten her bra, and pinch both of her hard, pebbled nipples between my fingers. She moans into my mouth, sucking on my tongue, and I push her backward into her bedroom, kicking the door shut behind her.

  “I don’t fuck undergrads,” I say into her ear, pinching a little harder. “Just you.”

  “I know,” she whispers.

  I pull her shirt off and push Melody onto her bed, bending over her and taking one nipple in my mouth, sucking and licking it hard. She moans again, her hands in my hair, and I move to the other, already unbuttoning her jeans, desperate to taste her yet again.

  I don’t understand it. Usually I’m bored of women by now, just going through the motions of sex until the time is right for me to end things, but not with her. I crave Melody and think about her constantly when we’re not together.

  I slide her jeans over her hips, spread her thighs apart and run my tongue between her soft, delicate lips before swirling it around her clit, her body already buzzing and humming as I lavish attention on that sensitive button. This is about her right now, about how much I need and love her, and I want her to come again and again until she can barely speak.

  “Professor,” she whispers somewhere above me, her hand tight in my hair. I move my tongue faster, sliding three fingers into her dripping pussy. She practically sucks me into her, moaning again, and I lap at her clit as hard and fast as I can, curling my fingers inside her channel.

  “Please let me come,” she moans. “God, please—”

  I suck hard on her clit and drive her over her the edge, feeling her clench around me like a fist closing.

  “Jesus, you’re good at that,” she murmurs.

  I don’t stop. I take my fingers out of her and work my tongue down to the delicate bud of her asshole as she gasps, then insert two fingers there, feeling her stretch as I suck her clit into my mouth yet again. She moans and bucks underneath my hand and mouth, losing herself completely to pleasure.

  Good. I need her almost delirious with pleasure and utterly relaxed, because I’ve got something in store for her. Something that will overwhelm her completely, overpower her, and make her come uncontrollably hard.

  I stand, bending over her and kissing her on the mouth. She sucks at me greedily, tasting herself as she tries to sit up, but I push her back down by the shoulder.

  “I want you in my mouth,” she whispers, between kisses, her voice soft and her eyes closed.

  The thought of her swallowing me makes my balls clench closer to my body, but I push her back anyway.

  “Not now,” I growl. “I need to be inside you, now.”

  With that I pull her to the edge of the bed, her knees over my shoulders, and plunge myself into her sweet pussy with a groan.

  Melody’s back arches and she cries out, her hands clutching the sheets on her bed. I lean over her to push myself even deeper, hitting that sweet spot in her that makes her almost lose her mind with pleasure.

  “Fuck me, Professor,” she moans when I find it.

  I fuck Melody hard and fast because that’s how I need her right now, like I’m drowning and she’s a life raft. With every stroke, I hit the sensitive spots inside her, and soon she’s moaning and thrashing, nearly screaming with sheer pleasure.

  It just makes me go harder. She’s mine and I know what she wants.

  Finally, she explodes again, her pussy muscles gripping my cock so tight that it nearly hurts. I see sparkles in front of my eyes, the low ache in my belly, but I force myself not to come. Not yet.

  I thrust into her a few more times, gently, slowly, and watch her regain control. She runs one hand over my chest as I do, pushing myself deep, and opens her dazed eyes to look at me.

  “This feels so fucking good, Professor,” she murmurs. “What are you doing to me?”

  I pull out of her dripping, drooling pussy and open the drawer in her bedside table.

  Chapter 27

  Melody

  It was a stupid question, I know, because he’s pulling out the lube and slathering his thick, long, perfect cock with it. I’m breathless with anticipation even though I practically haven’t stopped coming since we got to my bedroom.

  I start to roll over and get on my hands and knees, but Professor Sharpe stops me.

  “I want you like this,” he says, stroking his cock and grinning slowly. “I like watching your face when I’m inside your ass.”

  With one thumb, he starts stroking
my clit idly as he positions the head of his cock at my back entrance. I take a deep breath, relax, and let him slide into me, his whole monster sinking deep in one stroke.

  I make a pure, primal, guttural noise. When Professor Sharpe fucks my ass, I feel so filled and so good that I can barely move, like he’s in absolute, complete control and the only thing I can do is surrender to him.

  “Tell me how much you like it,” he commands, his thumb still rubbing my clit. He starts thrusting slowly, gently. I know he doesn’t want to hurt me but right now I’m craving it hard and fast, until I’m screaming nonsense words because I can’t think of real ones.

  “I love your thick cock in my ass,” I moan, because I’ve finally almost learned to talk dirty. “Fuck me hard, Professor.”

  He drives himself deep again, harder this time, his balls slapping against my ass, and I moan, my eyes sliding shut. It feels good, fucking incredible, but it’s also dirty, filthy, something I never thought I’d do.

  I never thought I’d beg a man to put his cock in my ass, but here I am.

  “Fill me up,” I beg. “Make me come again.”

  There’s a look of complete and total concentration on his face as he starts going harder and faster, and soon I feel my brain shorting out from how good it feels and how dirty it is.

  “Make me come,” I beg, over and over. “Make me come with your big cock, please.”

  With a grunt, he does, and I swear my entire body shivers as I orgasm, every muscle tensing, my fingers and toes curling. I can hear myself shouting but I have no idea what I’m saying because there’s nothing here but sheer, pure pleasure.

  I come back down to earth, and realize he’s still rock hard, still fucking me mercilessly.

  “Come in my ass, Professor,” I say. “I love feeling you come there.”

  A slow, wicked grin spreads over his face, and he slows. I just stare, baffled, because I have no idea what else he could possibly have planned.

  “Do you trust me?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say instantly.

  “Completely?”

  “Yes.”

  Without another word, he reaches into my bedside drawer and pulls out the dildo — the one that, six weeks ago, I thought might be too big for me. I just watch him, clueless, as he slides the tip of the dildo down me, from my belly to my clit until the head is nestled between my slippery lower lips, just above where my asshole is stretched around his cock.

  Then it clicks, and I gasp, alarmed.

  “Shh,” he says. “Trust me, kitten.”

  I pause for a moment. The thought is hot as fuck, but can I really do that? To be honest, it seems logistically impossible — two big cocks in my tight little body at the same time.

  But then Professor Sharpe pushes the head of the dildo inside me just a little more, thrusting lightly into my ass, and I’m hit by a wave of pleasure so intense I can’t even move, let alone make a noise.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful right now,” he whispers. “I love it when you feel so good you can’t even move.”

  I moan in response, the only noise I know how to make. It’s odd that this is so romantic when he’s got his cock up my ass and a dildo in my pussy, but oddly, it is.

  I trust him. Completely.

  Professor Sharpe works the dildo in slowly, gently, and even though I think I’m completely and utterly filled, unable to move, he keeps filling me more and more until my vision is starting to go gray around the edges, and then he stops.

  “You like that, kitten?” he asks, moving his hips slightly, both his cock and the dildo moving together. “You like getting stretched out by two cocks at once?”

  “Yes,” I whimper.

  “Good,” he says. “Because it’s fucking sexy, kitten, and I don’t think I’ll never get enough of you.”

  Then he starts fucking me, moving the dildo and his cock together, and it’s so overwhelming that I come instantly, moaning and shaking. My entire body feels like it’s the sun, on fire and so intense that I’m afraid to move or I might just explode.

  I come and I don’t stop, my body nearly shaking apart as orgasm after orgasm wracks through me. The sheer pleasure of being stuffed full and being so completely under Professor Sharpe’s control, is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Like he’s a drug and I’m a junkie. I’m not even aware of what’s happening to me anymore, I just know that it feels fucking incredible and I never want it to stop.

  Finally, his thrusts get urgent, hard and fast, right at the limit of what I can take but God it’s glorious.

  “I’m coming in your ass, kitten,” he growls.

  Then he does, and I’m so stuffed that I can feel every tiny jerk of his cock as he unloads inside me, again and again, still fucking me and growling my name for a long time while I’m left senseless with pleasure.

  When he finally finishes, he bends over and kisses me, my knees to my chest.

  “I love you,” he says. “You’re my dirty, filthy, perfect, beautiful girl and I love you.”

  I swallow, tracing his face with my fingers. He’s still inside me along with the dildo, and I’m feeling everything, all at once.

  “I love you too,” I say.

  “You’re mine,” he says.

  “You’re mine,” I say.

  Then he pulls off, takes the dildo out, and climbs onto my bed next to me, taking me in his arms. We stay like that for a few hours, until my roommate is due home.

  I love it. It’s not what I thought it would be, but I love it anyway and I don’t care what anyone thinks.

  We date all semester. Some people give us weird looks, but it’s not like we hold hands in the school hallways or something — we go on dates off campus, he brings me to department events, that sort of thing.

  It’s real. It’s kind of romantic, and I even get used to calling him Ethan.

  Everywhere but the bedroom, anyway. There he’s still Professor and I’m still kitten, and he still makes me come so hard my eyes roll back in my head.

  Then, the first day of summer break, he proposes. I’m shocked, utterly beyond surprised — I thought we would wait until I graduated and got into grad school.

  I say yes. We get married that fall in a small ceremony in coastal New England, and take our honeymoon to Quebec over Fall Break. It’s beautiful and perfect, and even though I’m the only married junior in my entire college, I don’t mind that much, because I love Professor Sharpe.

  I love that while my friends are out at frat parties, trying to find a drunk hookup for the night, I’m reading in front of the fire with my husband — or, more likely, biting a pillow as he licks me until I come again and again before slipping his enormous cock into my ass while I moan.

  Let’s just say a frat boy never made me feel the way Professor Sharpe does.

  I miss my period February of my senior year — the same day I get into my first graduate program, and I’m so overwhelmed by all the good news that I’m sobbing on the couch when Professor Sharpe gets home, and he thinks someone’s died.

  I’m just barely showing at graduation — not that anyone can tell under that gown. The university where I’m going to get my PhD lets me push back enrollment by a year, and I give birth to a perfect little girl and get to spend nearly a year being a mommy before going back to school.

  It’s hard sometimes. Life isn’t perfect; Flavia once threw up on my laptop as I was putting the final edits on a thirty-page paper. But I love my little family, and I’m happy with them, and that’s what matters.

  Epilogue

  Professor Sharpe

  Another Year Later

  When I finally sneak downstairs, Melody is sitting on the couch in front of the fire, a glass of wine in her hand, another on the coffee table for me.

  “Our little insomniac finally asleep?” she asks, swirling the wine in her glass.

  “I only had to tell her the story of Romulus and Remus three times,” I say, sitting next to her and taking my wine. “I skipped the part where one murd
ers the other.”

  “Now I’m afraid to have another one,” Melody teases. “Flavia might murder it if you tell her that story too many times.”

  I grin, leaning in to kiss her.

  “C’mon,” I say. “Remember how much I loved you being pregnant?”

  Melody laughs softly.

  “I remember barely being able to move by eight months,” she says.

  I put my wine glass on the table and put one hand up my wife’s shirt, feeling the soft skin of her belly.

  “I remember being barely able to control myself every time I saw you,” I growl. “Even worse than normal.”

  I pull Melody onto my lap. I’m already hard, because we haven’t had sex in nearly forty-eight hours — with a toddler, it can be hard to be alone in the same room together sometimes. Melody grinds her hips against me, biting her lip and groaning quietly.

  “I don’t think you can get me pregnant right now,” she murmurs into my ear. “But I’d love to give your cock a good hard ride anyway, Professor.”

  I plunge my hands into her pants just to feel her warm, delicious wetness. She moans again, then climbs off me, removes her pants, and unbuckles mine.

  Then she gets on her knees, takes my cock out, and slides her mouth down it, swallowing me without even blinking.

  I groan.

  “Watching you do that will never get old,” I growl, feeling her throat tight around me. “I could watch you swallow my cock on a loop for the rest of my life and die happy.”

  Melody looks up at me with her big eyes, then bobs her head up and down once more. I put one hand on her head but she knows exactly what she’s doing by now, slurping along my length and sucking at the tip when I’m just about to come, then standing and straddling me again.

  “I need you to sit on my big, fat cock right now,” I whisper.