My Graduate School Romance – Chapter 3

Sean’s graduate school experience continues.

This story jumps right in from chapter 2. It is set in the late aughts (2000s). Toward the end, two characters dabble in an element of domination/submission. Neither of the characters know what they’re doing, so don’t be harsh.

Please bear with me as I write this. My real life is a bit complex at the moment. Also, these characters have a mind of their own and I’m not sure where it’s going. All characters are at least 18. Remember, this is fiction. The characters in this story are flawed, just like you and me. Sometimes they make bad decisions as they struggle to live their lives. Sometimes they make life changing decisions. Again, all characters and situations are complete fiction, a product of my fertile imagination. Any similarity to actual people and situations is purely a coincidence. All constructive criticism is welcome.

*****

Astrid was pissed. She grabbed a coffee mug and slammed the cupboard door.

“Did that door do anything to you?”

She glared at me. “No, but you did!”

“Don’t slam the doors or you can leave. What did I do?’

“You fucked Marilyn Monroe!”

“Did I say that?”

“You didn’t have to. She left here in her evening dress with that freshly fucked glow!”

“As I’ve told you a dozen times before, I will never discuss what does or doesn’t happen between me and another person with you.”

“You don’t have to. I KNOW!”

Astrid sat down at the kitchen table with her coffee.

I decided to change the subject, “So what would you like to do today?”

She just glared at me, “I don’t want to do anything with you, you fucker!”

“Then why are you sitting here?”

“I need some coffee.”

“Okay.”

I walked over and picked up my acoustic guitar. I sat on the couch and started fooling around with a 12-bar blues chord progressions. Sounds good. Let’s add some words. I sang:

She walked into my house

And slammed the cupboard door

Gotta rhyme.

Although she’s not my spouse

She’s ready for a war.

Astrid mocked, “What the fuck are you singing?”

“Just making shit up.” I sang the verse through without stopping, then kept going:

Astrid is so pissed

She thinks I’ve done her wrong

But here’s another twist

I’ll put it in a song

“You suck.”

“I didn’t say I was good.

There’s nothing I can say

There’s nothing I can do.

Life gets in the way

We can’t be sure what’s true

I shifted to the Rolling Stones

And we can’t always get what we want.

“You ruined the rhythm. You need six syllables and four lines.”

“So what?

But if you try sometime, you just might find, you get what you need!

“If you’re going to write a song you need to be consistent.”

“Beethoven wasn’t.”

“You’re not Beethoven!”

“That last part was The Rolling Stones, by the way.”

“Who?”

“You don’t know who the Rolling Stones are?” I changed the subject, “Are you my friend Astrid?”

She glared at me, “Yes. Although sometimes you’re a fucker and I hate your guts.”

“I’ve told you this before, but it’s worth repeating. You’re my best friend in this town. You’re my occasional lover. You’re brilliant, beautiful, and generous. And you’re a pain in the ass.”

“I’m a pain in the ass?!”

I started strumming hard and sang as loud as I could:

My best friend Astrid, she’s a pain in the ass.

My best friend Astrid, she’s a pain in the ass.

Astrid started laughing,

Okay, things might be getting better. “Now that I’ve set the bar really low, you should write me some lyrics.”

“You’re fucking nuts.”

“I’m serious. You give me words and I’ll set them to music.”

“Let me think about it. Sean, back to Marilyn Monroe.”

“Her name is Elena.”

“Okay, Elena. Why do you have to go and fuck her? You’re breaking my heart.”

“I’m not discussing that with you. Why is your heart broken?”

Astrid got up and got some more coffee. She sat down on the floor and crossed her legs, “Sean.” She wouldn’t look at me.

“Astrid.”

“You’re the one who’s a pain the ass! Let me get my thoughts together.” She looked up at me, “Sean, I told you this. I’m falling hard for you.”

“Astrid, you haven’t known me long enough to be in love with me.”

“I’m not saying I’m falling in love with you.” She thought for a moment, “Okay, maybe I am saying that.”

I got up from the couch and tried to sit next to her. Instead, I flopped on the floor.

She started laughing, “Well that was so impressively graceful.”

I just laid on my side, “My specialty. Back to the topic at hand. Right now, I am your rebound after you were treated like absolute shit by Ankara bayan escort Andrew. I imagine as the guy who stood up for you and took a shitload of stitches in his head, I look pretty good, but you don’t know me yet. I’m a crotchety old man.”

She slapped my arm hard enough to leave a mark, “You are not old. Maybe a little older, but certainly not old.”

“Okay. Point taken. My point is that this isn’t basketball. You can’t grab the first rebound and run with it. You should go out with some guys and you may find one that’s a whole hellava lot nicer than me.”

“You want me to date other guys?”

“Yes. If down the road, you still think I’m your knight in shining armor, then we can be serious.”

“Let me think about it. Should I fuck them?”

“That is completely up to you. I am not touching that one.”

I got to my knees and something made a loud pop, “Damn.”

Astrid started laughing again, “We definitely need to work on your ability to get up and down.”

I stood up and walked to the kitchen, “So what do you want to do today?”

“I need to think.” She effortlessly stood up, “Can we go on a hike and not talk a lot?”

“Sure.”

*****

Astrid and I had a nice leisurely hike. As promised, she didn’t talk much. Every once in a while, she’d walk next to me and hold my hand. Just as often she’d make a random comment about the scenery.

Sometime during the hike, my phone buzzed, but I ignored it. After Astrid dropped me off at my apartment, I checked my messages. I had a voice mail from Lori. She wanted to know if I wanted to go on a date.

I called her, “How about a date on Saturday?”

“Sure, how about sometime around six? Nothing fancy. I just want to hang out with you. You’re a nice guy.”

“Thanks. You’re a nice gal. You pick the place and I’ll pick you up. Will it be fancy?”

“No. See you at Pete’s on Tuesday.”

*****

As we gathered for rehearsal on Sunday evening, Lindsey did not seem herself. When I arrived, she gave me a hug and seemed to savor it. No kissing. She also didn’t hit on me. Whiskey tango foxtrot?

When we were just about ready, Elena said, “Halloween is next Friday. We should probably come up with some costumes for Thursday night. Let’s try to be a little classy. Also, I’m getting rid of the no romance rule.”

Lindsey shook her head, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No, I’m serious.”

Lindsey threw a bottle of water against the wall and walked off into the house.

Elena said, “Give her a moment. She’ll be back.”

I raised my hand and Elena pointed at me, “As I was driving over here, I had an idea. Instrumentals.”

Pete scrunched up his face, “As in no singing?”

“Yeah. When I was a kid back in the sixties and seventies, there were tons of great instrumental music on the radio.

Pete was doubtful, “Like what?”

“Jeff Beck. Carlos Santana. Surf music.”

He nodded, “Okay. Santana’s amazing.”

Just then Lindsey returned.

Elena said, “Lindsey, you should play for them.”

“No thanks.”

“I’m serious. Play Bach for them.”

Pete said, “That’s really fucking old.”

Elena smiled at Lindsey, “Play Jesu Lindsey’s way. Please?”

Lindsey dialed in an organ tone and took a deep breath. She glared at us. Then she ripped into Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring at a lightning-fast pace. As she was playing, I remembered an old instrumental that was on the radio from the early seventies. I looked around. Elena was grinning. Katie’s eyes were popping out. Pete’s jaw was on the ground.

When Lindsey finished, Pete shook his head, “Holy fuck!”

Katie asked, “How’d you learn to play like that?”

“Julliard.”

I couldn’t believe it, “You went to Julliard?”

“Only for a year. Then I found out it’s hard making a living playing classical music.”

I said, “Can we use your computer for a moment, I want to look up something and play it for you.”

“Sure.”

We went in and Lindsey turned on her computer. She had a porn site pop up.

She laughed, “We don’t want that.”

I couldn’t remember it exactly so I googled, “Apollo Joy”. There it was Apollo 100 – Joy.

I said, “I think we can do this.”

I clicked on the video which was just the music with some pictures added. It was just a hair slower than Lindsey’s version, but it had the backing band. I looked around and everyone was nodding.

When it finished Elena said, “Lindsey, for the record, you’re better than them. Sean, you can do that guitar part. Pete, drumming’s not too hard.”

Pete nodded, “Got it.’

“Katie, bass is easy.” Elena said, “I’ll bring in my keyboard tomorrow and I’ll try and figure out the little extras. Okay! What else could we do?”

I brought up The Sufaris Wipe Out, The Ventures Walk Don’t Run, and Santana’s Europa.

Elena said, “Okay, can you come back with some music for us?”

“First, I’ll need to master those leads.”

Elena nodded, “Which brings up another point, we need to spread out the singing more. Escort bayan Ankara Sean, I’m looking at you, but Katie and Lindsey I would love for both of you to sing more.

Katie said, “I got one I can bring tomorrow.”

“Great.”

We only rehearsed for two hours or so. Lindsey seemed very preoccupied the entire time. Elena said we might need to go longer tomorrow. I was surprised when I left that Lindsey didn’t hit on me. Something’s eating that girl.

*****

About nine a.m. on Monday, I received a text from Lindsey: Can we talk?

Rather than text her I just called, “Hi Lindsey, what’s up?”

“Are you doing anything for lunch?”

“I am. I’m eating lunch with Katie in the college cafeteria.”

“How about this afternoon? Are you free?”

I really needed to do some research in the library, but I’d pretty much ignored Lindsey up to this point. For some reason, this didn’t sound like she was hitting on me.

She cleared that up, “This isn’t about sex. Well, it could be about sex if you wanted it to be. I just wanted to meet with you.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Well, kind of. Sort of.” There was a pause. “Not really.”

“How about one o’clock?”

“That’d be great. Can we meet at my house, or would you prefer someplace else?”

“Your house is fine.”

“Great see you then.”

Wonder what’s going on with Lindsey?

*****

When Katie showed up to eat lunch with me, she was very excited, “Sean, I have a great Halloween idea.”

“Do tell.”

“Boris and Natasha.”

I wasn’t getting why it would be a great idea and my face must have showed it.

She said, “From Rocky and Bullwinkle.”

“I know Boris and Natasha.”

“Because I’m short I will be Boris and you’ll be Natasha. We’ll be cross-dressing.”

I chuckled, “Katie, I am going to make one ugly woman.”

“No, it won’t be that hard. There’s a shop downtown that caters to drag queens. We can get you an hourglass figure. You’ll be gorgeous!”

“That’s going to be really expensive.”

“I asked Elena and she said we can use up to $700 from our equipment fund.”

“So, when do you want to go shopping?”

“How about Wednesday morning? I think they open at ten.”

“Great.”

*****

After lunch, I drove over to Lindsey’s house and arrived a little early.

Lindsey met me at the door wearing a robe showing some cleavage. She put her arms around my neck and kissed me. It wasn’t the typical passion-filled kiss, it was gentle and sweet. “Thanks for coming. Can I get you anything?”

“Maybe some water.”

She took my hand and led me to her kitchen. She poured a glass of water and pointed to the kitchen table.

Sitting across from me, Lindsey took my hand and looked very intently at me, “Sean, I am going to be completely straight with you.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I don’t understand exactly why I’m having this conversation. Well, I do. This is going to sound very confusing. My head is a little fucked up, but not from booze or drugs. I don’t understand a lot of what goes on in my head, but I feel like I need to tell you this and ask you this.” She averted her gaze for a moment and took a deep breath, “I’m a whore.”

I smiled, “Well, you’ve always joked…”

She cut me off. Her face was intense, “No. I’m serious. I’m actually a whore. Let me explain.” She took a deep breath, “I’ve told you I’m addicted to sex.” I nodded. “I guess it started when I was in college. I started having sex and I couldn’t get enough. I’m thirty so that was ten years ago. Except for one week when I tried to stop, there hasn’t been a day when I haven’t had some guy’s dick in one of my holes. I actively go find guys to fuck. I often have sex three and four times in a day. My personal record is fucking and sucking nearly two dozen guys in a day. I lost count. That same day I had three guys make me airtight. Most times I’m treated like shit, like a cum bucket. At times I’d rather fuck than eat. I have a serious problem.

“One of the reasons I moved here was because where I lived before, everyone knew I was a whore, the town whore. The police chief and I had an arrangement where I would fuck his lights out and he’d let me turn quality tricks. I was making great money turning tricks, but I wanted a new start not being a slut.

“I tried. I was able to go without a good fuck for about a week. Then I was back to my old ways. When I got here I was playing piano downtown – that’s where I met Elena – and I was meeting and fucking guys left and right. I was making some great money. There for a while I spent more time turning tricks than I was playing the piano. I was making far better money than I did at the bank. Then this past January I got busted in a prostitution sting. My lawyer got me off so I don’t have a conviction on my record, just an arrest. In the back of my mind, I know that one of these days the bank is going to find out.

“Oh, also just so you know, I go down to Planned Parenthood and get tested for Bayan escort Ankara STDs three times a week. I just had a negative test this morning.”

I wasn’t sure how to take all this in.

“I have no idea why I’m telling you this.” She looked at me like she was in pain, “That’s not true. Actually, I do know.”

Was she crying for help? I’ve always been pretty bad reading situations like this. She’s trying to tell you something. Let her.

“I…” She swallowed hard, “I don’t want to live like this anymore. I need to get some help.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “Elly’s been trying to get me into an addiction treatment program. I’ve been resisting. For a while after I got busted, I was just fucking my johns for free. I figured I’m not a whore if I’m not being paid, right? Then I decided I would go back to charging and save money for treatment. I’ve been saving money for about five months now.”

Lindsey looked up into my eyes, “Sean, I can’t promise you anything, but I really want to be your friend. The only friend I have is Elly. You’d think with all this fucking I wouldn’t be lonely. I’m terribly lonely. I want a normal life. I want a family. I want friends that give a shit about me.”

She reached out and grabbed my hand, “This is going to sound really weird, but I’d like to have sex one last time, hopefully with you, and then I’d like for you and Elly to take me to the addiction treatment facility in Springfield. They’re expecting me.” It looked like she was in agony. “What do you think?”

I nodded.

“Also, so you know, I’m on the rag right now. I was thinking we’d have some anal. When I was first fucked up the ass, I didn’t like it, but now I love anal. You can wear a condom if you need to. I’ve asked Elly to come over at three. We have about an hour and a half for sex, plus clean up. A half hour there, a half hour helping me check in, and a half hour back. You’ll be back in plenty of time for rehearsal.”

“So, you won’t be playing with us for a while.”

Lindsey shook her head, “They say the initial part is six weeks, give or take. My health insurance is paying for part of it. Like I said, I’ve saved a bunch of money from turning tricks.”

She squeezed my hand, “Sean, I can’t call it making love. I’ve never made love in my life. Can we have caring sex? Can we do that? God this feels weird. Like this is some kind of mercy fuck.”

I started to speak, but she raised her hand, “I’ve always dreamed about having a real relationship. One that was based on mutual love and respect. You and I don’t have that, but…” Lindsey seemed to be in mental pain, “Shit. I don’t know what I want to say.” She hung her head.

She looked up at me, “I know you don’t love me, but you’re a quality guy. Maybe you might care about me and not treat me like a piece of meat to be fucked and thrown away. Not treat me like a human toilet.”

“Lindsey, I do care about you.”

She looked at the clock, “Perhaps we can go to my bedroom.”

Lindsey stood and took my hand. She started leading me toward the bedroom, but I pulled her back. I wrapped my arms around her and just held her tight. She was sobbing, her entire body shaking.

I kissed her forehead, “Thank you for trusting me with all of that. I do care about you. I’m so proud of your courage.”

She nodded, but held on tight. She finally took my hand and took me to her room. She threw her robe in the corner. I could see a bejeweled butt plug, then she turned to look at me. She was a classic red-haired beauty. She had average breasts, with quarter sized areolae and pink nipples. Her pubic area was clean shaven. Her vulva just a slit.

She unbuttoned my shirt and dropped my pants. She looked at herself and then back at me, “I have beautiful red pubes. One little reason I’d like to get the treatment is that I used to love my fire bush. The doctor at the clinic recommended I shave it off to avoid stuff like crabs.”

Lindsey put her arms around my neck, Sean?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

She immediately dropped to her knees and started working my cock. It seemed very mechanical. She definitely was a pro. There was no sense of passion or excitement. She had a job to do and she was going to do it. She quickly had me hard and was deep throating me.

“Lindsey.” She looked up at me. “Let’s move over to the bed and I can show you what happens when someone cares about you.”

She probably expected me to fuck her ass doggy style because she knelt down next to me. I decided that she would need to be on top and in control. I’ve had anal sex before and I always preferred the woman to be on top, in control. It feels as if she is giving herself to me rather than me taking something from her. Lindsey might feel cared for.

I smiled, “No, you’re on top.”

I laid back on the bed and held my hand out to her. She grabbed a tube of lube and a box of Kleenex and set it next to the pillow. She threw her leg over me, straddling my waist.

I cupped her ass cheeks, “You would like to have the kind of sex where I care about you, right?” She nodded. “I want to see you. I want to be able to kiss you. I’m going to lie here and you are going to be in charge.”

Lindsey nodded. She reached for the lube, but when she did, I stopped her. I held her face and gently kissed her. She closed her eyes and responded, gently probing with her tongue.