Most times I have gone to my professor's house, it feels like the most serene and ideal home imaginable. Her husband, Jason, is an extremely successful day trader and charity fundraiser, and from what I can see they’re quite well-off. Their house is in the nicest part of our small town, a few minutes from the university and student housing. I was honored when Giselle asked me after my psychology class if I would be able to walk their aging dog during the four days she taught. Her dog is like a child to her, and I knew it was a huge deal that she chose me and no one else.

She pays me $100 a week, which I can’t complain about, and coming to pick it up was usually fun because she often invites me to stay for dinner or have a few drinks with her and Jason outside by their pool. It’s also kind of exciting to be friends with the most beautiful and admired professor in the whole school.

Giselle texted me Friday that I should come over today to pick up the money. I usually show up around five, and I thought she’d be expecting me. Her car was there, but no one answered the door. Maybe she and Jason had gone out together and left me the cash on the table. I send them a text that I am came in to get the money, then unlock the door with my copy of the key.

When I go in, I know immediately that something is wrong. Mr. Socks usually greets me with his droopy, grey-flecked face, but not today. I listen close, and suddenly am concerned. I hear the distinctive sound of a woman crying. Oh God. I often worried about the emotional toll Socks’s impending death would take on her.

“Giselle?” I yell up the stairs.

“Oh! Hi Kelsie! I didn’t know you were here!” I hear some sniffling. “I’ll be right down.” She descends the stairs, dressed only in a silky black robe. Her curly, dark blonde hair is disheveled, and her eyes are a little swollen and red.

“Is everything okay?” I know it’s not. I’m also extremely distracted by her appearance. I’m almost certain she’s not wearing anything at all under the robe. It’s open almost down to her navel, showing off her tight, slim body. I can see a hint of her small breasts on either side, and the points of her nipples show through the shiny fabric. I hate when skin is described as creamy, but I can’t think of another word to describe hers- soft and pale and touchable. If she were fully clothed I would have given her a hug, but in this state, and given my spiraling thoughts, it seems wrong.

She sighs and adjusts her robe, walking to the sofa. “Ugh. I don’t want to dump everything on you.”

“I feel like you do,” I say, sitting next to her on the sofa.

She starts to sniffle again. Her robe is hiked up dangerously high, exposing her thigh. She’s petite, but with the proportions of a taller woman, and her legs look long and lean, like a dancer’s. She even has pretty feet, small and symmetrical, with red toenails. I realize I am staring and try to keep my eyes fixed on her beautiful, blue ones. That doesn’t help much- I still feel a red flush creeping up my breasts and towards my face.

“Well, if you insist,” she says. “I just feel like things with Jason and I have been so strained- with my baby having so many health problems. Then I look at his phone and I see that some skank has been texting him constantly.” She starts crying for real.

I feel horrible for her, but relieved that the dog is still alive. “Have you said anything to him?”

She shakes her head. “What do I say? He’s out with Socks at the vet right now. I guess I have to talk to him when he gets back. I just don’t want to face it.”

They drive two hours each way to take their dog to a special vet who specializes in hounds (yes, for real) so I know that he’ll be gone for a long time. I am at war with myself. It’s wrong to prey on someone who is in such a terrible emotional state, yet I don’t think I would be ruining a relationship that wasn’t already doomed. Plus, it would probably make her feel better to know how desirable she is to me, right?

“I just can’t imagine why anyone would ever treat you like that, Giselle. You’re such an amazing woman.” I can hear the sound of my ticket to hell being printed.

She wipes away her tears with a single, dainty finger. “You really think so?”

“Yes,” I say, maybe a little too enthusiastically. “You’re brilliant, accomplished, you have your PhD at thirty-two. And you’re one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.”

“Really?” She says. She sighs and looks down at her chest. “I just feel so insecure. Like maybe I could up my game a little, you know? I was thinking of getting a boob job. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to compete for Jason’s attention.”

“You don’t need a boob job! You look perfect.” It’s true. She doesn’t have huge breasts, but they are proportional and lovely.

“Are you sure?” She pulls open her robe, completely revealing them.

“Yeah, they look amazing. I wouldn’t mess with them at all.” They are more perfect in person that I could have imagined. Her nipples are soft pink, protruding but not too long, and the skin around them is the same smooth pink. “Plus,” I add, “if you get surgery, then they never feel the same.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet. Do you think people can tell the difference?”

“I sure can,” I say, boldly reaching to touch her. I take one breast in each hand, grazing her firm nipples. Then I give a little squeeze. “Real ones are so much softer. Implants feel super firm and fake.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I didn’t think of that.”

“Plus, a lot of times they can mess up your sensitivity, too.” I lean in and put my mouth around her left nipple and start sucking softly.

“I would miss that, wouldn’t I,” she says as I untie her robe.

“Mhmm-hmm,” I murmur, as I shift to kneel against the couch. I take my right hand and slide it between her thighs. It’s more forward than I usually am, but I’m so caught up in the moment that I have left my normal rhythm aside. She’s wet and my index and middle finger slide in easily.

“Oh, my god,” she says. I take my lips off her breasts and kiss her. Her mouth is so soft, but when she kisses me back it’s aggressive, and she slides her tongue in quickly. We start making out, with my fingers deep inside her. I’m still fully clothed, and as I try to detach to take my shirt off, I hear a sound.

Click click click.

Mr. Socks runs up to me, pressing his cold nose into the side of my leg.

“Oh, shit.” I say. I jump up and see Jason, standing in the doorway.

“This isn’t what it looks like!” Giselle says, tying her robe quickly. Of course that is what she chose to say. The most incriminating thing possible. The dog creeps over to his bed and whines, clearly absorbing the tension in the room.

Jason still hasn’t said a word. His face looks red and a vein stands out on his forehead. He looks at his wife, acting as if I’m not in the room. “Then tell me what the hell is going on here.”

At least I’m fully dressed. I try to slink out as Giselle starts stuttering a response, but unfortunately, I have to walk past Jason. I don’t make it. He shoots his arm out and wraps his hand around my wrist.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He looks right at me. His eyes don’t look purely angry, which surprises me. I suddenly feel almost naked in my crop top and shorts. The thin bra I’m wearing doesn’t completely conceal my nipples, and I can feel his eyes look up and down, taking it all in.

“Uhhh…” I say, pulling my hand away. I look back at him, suddenly a little afraid. He registers my discomfort and relaxes his features a bit. He is a really handsome man, even though he has twenty years on his wife and over thirty on me. His grey hair and slight stubble only enhance his rugged features.

“You know what, I’m sorry. I just wanted to hear your side of what happened. You can leave if you want,” he says, stepping back. He’s breathing deeply and clearly trying to get his emotions under control.

Now that things have de-escalated, I feel okay about staying. It’s uncomfortable, but I don’t want to leave Giselle hanging. Plus, the selfish side of my brain thinks that if Jason gets mad and leaves, Giselle and I can continue where we left off.

“Look,” Giselle cuts in, approaching us. “Jason. I found the messages on your phone. I saw the things that woman said to you.”

He looks confused. “What things?”

“How she was so excited to see you tonight, and that she wants to see more of your skills at work.” Giselle looks like she’s going to cry again.

Jason rolls his eyes and rubs both hands through his hair, almost theatrically. “That,” he says, “was Shondra from the Children’s Leukemia foundation. I have the fundraiser tonight, remember? She was talking about my skills at making people empty their goddamn pockets.” He takes out his phone and hands it to her. “Look! You can read through everything.”

“Jason, I’m so sorry…” she trails off.

“Sorry? You should be sorry. Why do you think inviting one of your students over to fuck was the right way to resolve things?” He points at me.

I butt in, indignant. “I’m not just one of her students? I thought we were all friends.”

He looks at me, almost like he wants to laugh. “Clearly you and I aren’t that good of friends, since you don’t come over when my wife’s not home to fuck me.”

“Is that what you would want?” Giselle asks. “We could share if you wanted.”

Jason actually laughs. “You really think offering her up to me is going to make all this better?”

Giselle looks at him. She unties her robe and drops it on the floor. “Yes.”

“Are you really this desperate, baby?” He asks her.

Wait, what? He doesn’t even seem angry anymore. Is this a normal thing for them?

“You’ve been traveling for work so much, I feel like I never see you. I knew it was just a text from work,” she says. “All I wanted was to get your attention somehow.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he says, his voice softening. He walks over to her and they begin passionately making out.

“Ok, I don’t know what this is, but I think this is my cue.” I decide the dog walking money is acceptable collateral damage. This is just getting too weird for me.

Jason stops kissing his wife and looks at me. “No, stay. We’d like the company.”

Giselle unclasps her arms and walks towards me gently, stroking down my arm until she grabs my hand. I let her lead me up to their bedroom, Jason behind us. I know that I’m stepping into their weird fantasy, or whatever you could call this, but at the same time I’m intrigued.

Giselle kisses me and pushes me onto the bed, while Jason pulls off my shorts and thong. She lays next to me, kissing me and stroking my hair, while her husband’s hands part my thighs. He doesn’t waste any time, and starts licking my clit, then pushes his face down and starts sucking on it. It’s aggressive but amazing. I’ve been with only women so long that I’ve forgotten the intensity of a guy’s touches. Women have more finesse, but something about a man’s animal aggression is so unique and stirring.

Giselle lays down next to me, sort of lazily, and opens her legs as well. I get a beautiful view of her body- her slim waist, tight, sculpted abs, and the slight, clean-shaven mound of her pussy. The visual stimulation as well as the expert skills of Jason are too much, and I cum, shaking.

This must have been what he’s waiting for, because he switches to his wife’s body, kissing her down her belly until he reaches her clitoris, repeating what he did to me. He uses his right hand to gently rub my clit and the surrounding area in soft circles. The ease at which they navigate the awkwardness of a new person makes me believe that they have done this before, also. Plus, there’s a definite power structure- he’s leading, but also providing pleasure, and Giselle and I are following.

She cums even faster than I did, clutching my arm with one delicate hand, her back arching.

“Was that good, girls?” Jason says, sitting up.

“Yes,” I say.

“Sweetheart, can you do something for me?” He looks at me while he asks.

“What is it?”

“Can you call me Daddy?” He asks, stroking my shin softly. “It would mean so much to me if you did.”

Normally this would be off-putting, but since he’s actually so much older than me, it seems enthralling instead of awkward. I know he has a few adult children, not with Giselle, and he definitely gives off strong daddy energy. I decide to comply.

“Yes, Daddy,” I say, biting my lip. “I’m sorry I’ve been so bad,” I add, feigning shyness and remorse. It’s out of my comfort zone and feels a little forced, but what can I say? If I’m going to do something, I’m going to commit.

“Aww, it’s okay, sweetheart,” he says, climbing on top of me and pushing my legs apart. “But I think you need to do something to make it up to me.” He slides his dick up and down over the opening of my vagina, which is dripping wet.

“What can I do to make it up to you, Daddy?” I say, pushing my hips into his. He’s so sexy. I am surprised that anyone could draw my attention away from Giselle, but he has. I’ve never slept with anyone close to his age before. He has an amazingly fit body, and he has a confidence that is even sexier than his looks.

I think that he’s going to push inside me, but instead he pulls away. “I want you to get on your knees.”

I am surprised, but I sit up and get into position. “Yes, Daddy,” I say. Giselle positions herself next to me, also on hands and knees. I feel Jason’s hands grip my ass, which has considerably more surface area than Giselle’s.

He doesn’t waste any time, pushing his dick in deep, immediately. I hadn’t gotten a chance to look at it closely, but I can feel it’s size, and it fills up my vagina completely, bumping my cervix almost painfully on the first thrust.

“Go easy, Daddy, you’re hurting me,” I say. Hurt is a bit of an exaggeration, but it always helps to stroke a man’s ego a bit.

“I think you can take it, can’t you,” he says, picking up the pace.

I let out a girlish, high-pitched yelp. “It’s too much, please go slower,” I say, honestly this time.

He pulls out. “Why don’t you watch me fuck my wife, then? She’s smaller than you and she can take it.” I watch him enter her from behind, gripping her small yet shapely ass. She gasps, and he begins fucking her hard and deep.

After a few minutes of watching, I’m not bored, but I want to reposition myself to something more comfortable. I sit back on my heels.

Jason stops abruptly. “Sweetheart?” There is a condescending tone to his voice.

“Yes?” I ask.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Daddy?” I correct myself.

“Did I tell you to sit down?” He pushes my back down, and I catch myself with my hands, putting me back into doggy position.

“No, you didn’t, Daddy,” I say.

“You don’t need to punish her, Jason,” Giselle says. “I brought her here without her knowing all the rules.” This confirms my theory that they play these kinds of games all the time. Their confusing dialogue from earlier makes much more sense- it was for my benefit as much as theirs, to make me really believe that the whole situation had come about by chance or misunderstanding.

“I won’t be too hard on her, Giselle. But I think she needs to learn a lesson, doesn’t she,” he says, getting into position behind me.

Anal. It’s going to be anal. I’m actually a huge fan of anal, though I’m nervous about his girth. However, I’ve learned that with relaxation and a little preparation, my asshole can take quite an intense fucking.

He rubs his dick in between my asscheeks, using the lubrication from my pussy. “You know, Kelsie, I’ve always noticed what a nice, big ass you have.” He rubs it gently. “But it’s only today that I noticed what a beautiful little asshole you have as well.” He spreads my cheeks apart.

“Are you going to fuck my ass, Daddy?” I ask.

He sticks one finger in my pussy to wet it, then slides it a knuckle deep into my asshole. I gasp. It feels amazing, and I feel every nerve tingle with anticipation.

“Yes, I am, sweetheart. Maybe then you’ll think twice about coming into my house, fucking my wife, and disobeying my orders.” He says it with authority, but as he slides another finger in, I feel his touch doesn’t match his words.

“We want you to be a good girl and take as much as you can, but if it’s too much you can just tell us,” Giselle says, stroking my hair.

“Ok, Daddy,” I say to Jason. “I’ll try my best.”

“Good girl,” he says, as he slides the head of his dick in. I feel the pressure of being stretched out, and the pleasure of his cock pushing on nerves deep inside as he goes farther. He starts actually fucking me, slowly, not using his full length.

“Are you doing ok?” asks Giselle, stroking my back. “Is it too much for you?”

I try to speak, but I’m only able to stutter. “Uhhh- uh- it’s good,” I say. As he fucks me harder, I realize that my body is responding, and I feel myself getting closer and closer to orgasm as he continues. He’s clearly skillful and conscious of his size, never pushing his full length inside.

“Daddy,” I ask, “can you rub my pussy and make me cum?”

He doesn’t respond verbally besides a grunt, and reaches down to my clit. The thinnest stimulation is all I need, since he has been inside me so long, and I cum intensely, feeling my asshole clench hard as he keeps fucking. The added pressure was enough to quickly put him over the edge, too, and he cums inside my asshole, filling it up.

He pulls out, and I reposition myself, unsure of whether to let his cum slide out or try to keep it in. I feel a little trickle out onto the bed sheet as I roll onto my back.

“That was amazing,” he says, laying next to me. Giselle lies down as well, so I’m sandwiched in between them. It’s kind of nice, but now that everyone is satisfied and the sexual energy of the room has dissipated, I just feel odd.

I sit up, reaching for my shorts. “You know, I actually have a party to go to,” I lie. “I lost track of time, and I really have to run.”

“That’s okay,” Giselle says, not making an effort to get up. “Did you have a good time?” They both look at me expectantly.

“Amazing, it’s just I have to leave,” I lie again.

“Ok, sweetheart. Just take your money from my wallet, I left it on the kitchen counter,” Jason says.

“Awesome, thanks,” I say awkwardly, pulling on my shorts. There’s no graceful exit from a threesome, is there.

As I descend the stairs, the dog runs up to greet me. I say goodbye to the only innocent one left in the house, grab my money, and head out the door. Usually I don’t mind getting more than I bargain for, but today was different.

“At least I know I’ll get an A in Psych,” I say aloud, to no one, and laugh.