The old traditions of love, sex, and marriage have broken down in the modern world. Everybody has to find his or her own way of satisfying sexual needs. I did. It took me a while — and what I found may not be permanent, but for the moment I’m happy with my sex life. My mother would be horrified.

I’m 32 years old now but I was 28 when this story begins. I had just earned — and I do mean earned — a Ph.D in physics at a very good university. That demonstrates that I’m somewhat of an oddball. I was the only woman to receive a Ph.D in physics that year at my university. I got a good job near the university in the large city that I loved. I was finally ready to enjoy the fruits of my many years of hard work and poverty.

My first action on getting the job was to move out of the cramped little apartment I had shared with my boyfriend for a year. I had outgrown him. When I told him I was moving out, his response was, “How am I going to pay the rent if you move out?” He wasn’t the caring, sharing, romantic man that I hoped to find someday.

Sex had never been very important to me. There were Higgs Bosons, leptons, and photons to study and thorny math problems to solve. I had always been more interested in the mysteries of the universe than the ecstasies of the sack. I wasn’t a virgin. I had had sex with six men. Three were relationships and three were one-night stands. Actually, maybe I only had sex with five men. One of my partners liked to cum on my tits rather than fuck me. I’m not sure whether I should count him as a sex partner or not.

I took stock of myself in front of the mirror in the bathroom as I prepared to dump my boyfriend and move out of the apartment. Not bad, I reckoned. My breasts were large and my hips were wide. Due to lack of exercise, some squishy flesh gathered around my middle, but that problem could be remedied. On a few occasions I had worn a bikini and I hadn’t been embarrassed about my body. My best features were my eyes — large, dark, mysterious and inviting, or so I thought — and my hair — long, thick and jet black. I usually fixed my hair in a practical bun, but occasionally I let it fall over my shoulders or tied it into a ponytail. I was alert enough to notice that the response I got from men was favorable — as it was on the rare occasions when I got out of my dowdy, practical work clothes and put on a scoop-necked party dress that revealed a lot of cleavage. That was my only party dress.

I found the perfect place to live within walking distance of the laboratory where I worked. It was an old three-level townhouse, long and narrow, with large bay windows facing out on a quiet, tree-shaded street. The first level had a large living room, a dining room, and a small kitchen. Out the kitchen door at the back was a small deck with a hot tub and a terrace with several potted plants. A high fence enclosed the deck and terrace.

The two boys living in the townhouse — I call them boys, but they were 25 years old — lived on the second level which had two bedrooms and a bathroom. The third level was a large open loft-like space with windows front and back, a skylight, and a bathroom. It was exquisite — and it would be mine if the boys, Doug and Jason, accepted me as a flat mate. We had a beer together at the sidewalk restaurant down the street and sized each other up. I liked them. Both were casual and easy going, pleasant-looking rather than handsome, and smallish, about my height of 5 feet 8 inches. Neither of them had any macho pretensions — a good thing in my opinion. Jason worked at a book store, Doug at a social service agency. They couldn’t afford the townhouse without a third person to share the rent. They apparently liked me because after another beer they made me an offer. I would pay 40 percent of the rent and utilities because I had a larger space than either of them. I like to cook so I volunteered to be responsible for keeping the kitchen and dining room in order. They would take care of the living room, the front porch, and the terrace and deck. We shook on it. And drank another beer. I was gloriously happy. I moved out of my old apartment the next day — while my ex-boyfriend was at work. I left behind two one-hundred dollar bills as my share of utility bills and expenses. I am nothing if not honest.

My flat-mates and I got along fine, although our social contact was limited. I worked long hours. I left the townhouse every morning at 7 a.m. to walk to work, stopping enroute for a cappuccino and biscotti. I ate lunch at my desk and didn’t leave work until at least six, usually seven, and sometimes later in the evening. I also went into bahis siteleri the lab for a few hours most Saturday and Sunday mornings.

The boys and I had an occasional beer at the sidewalk café, plus now and then I cooked a meal for the three of us. I had three killer recipes: beef bourguignon, goulash, and spaghetti and meatballs. Both Doug and Jason had girlfriends who would sometimes spend the night. Climbing the stairs to my loft bedroom one night, I noticed that Jason’s girlfriend was noisy in bed. I paused to listen.

Four months passed in which I never had a date nor met a man I wanted to date. My sex life consisted of masturbating while reclining on my king-size futon, sipping wine and watching sappy, romantic movies on my luxury indulgence, a large-screen, high-definition television.

One Friday night I came in late from work. As I rummaged in the kitchen for something to eat I heard the boys in the hot tub out on the deck. “Hey, Becky,” Jason called. “Come out and join us in the hot tub.”

“I’m hungry.” I continued looking through the icebox.

“We’re got crackers and cheese out here. And wine.”

“I don’t have a bathing suit handy.”

“You don’t need a bathing suit. Clothes are not allowed in the hot tub,” Doug shouted at me. “Come out and get a glass of wine.”

I went out on the deck, poured myself a glass of wine, and sat in a chair beside the hot tub where the boys were soaking.

“Come on in. Don’t be shy.”

After a couple of more inducements, I said okay. I turned the light off in the kitchen so I could undress in the dark, took my clothes off, and draped them over the railing on the deck. Then I climbed in. The boys each greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and pressed their bodies briefly against my naked breasts. The tub wasn’t quite deep enough for me to sit up straight without exposing my nipples. I sighed deeply as the hot water soothed my muscles.

“Hard day?” asked Doug.

“Very,”

“I’ll give you a foot massage.” He knew that I liked massages. He put one of my feet in his lap and began to massage my toes. I could feel his penis rubbing against my foot. It got harder.

While Doug massaged my feet, Jason rubbed my shoulders and I leaned back into his arms. I got a tingly feeling in my vagina and the thought came into my mind, “Maybe I will have sex with one of these guys tonight.” But which one? It’s a bad idea to get involved with a roommate,” I told myself.

Doug solved one-half of that dilemma. “I have to go,” he said, taking my foot out of his lap. “I have a date.” He kissed me on the cheek and climbed out of the tub and dried off with a towel. “Have fun you two,” he said.

“My girl friend is out of town,” explained Jason. I was glad to hear that because his fingers probing my shoulders, neck, and upper back were having an impact. He spread his legs and pulled me against him, my back to his chest, and continued his slow, careful massage, one hand reaching down to the cleft between my breasts. He touched my nipple with his finger.

“Oops.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I said, pushing his hand away. “You have a girl friend.”

“Yes,” he admitted. .

“We should get out.” I pushed him away and climbed out of the hot tub. He followed me. “I’ll dry you off,” he said, picking up a towel and drying my back.

Doug appeared at the door, dressed to go out, and looked out the window at us. “I’m leaving,” he said. I was facing him, still naked, while Jason dried my back. He looked me up and down. “Hmmm. Maybe I’m going out with the wrong girl.”

“Go away, please,” I laughed. The wine, the hot water, the end of a grueling week, Jason’s hands on my back. I was feeling relaxed and comfortable standing there on the deck naked while Doug stared at me and Jason dried me off with a towel. Doug left and Jason moved around to dry my front, bending down to towel my legs, and, suddenly, planting a kiss in the hair covering my pussy. “Oh, I should shave my pussy,” was my thought. “Too late.” And it was too late for other things too, because his tongue sought my clitoris and I spread my legs to facilitate him.

“I can’t believe, I’m doing this,” I said as he moved upward and his hands and mouth found my nipples. That sounded stupid. I’m not very poised. “This is not a good idea. We are roommates. We shouldn’t be lovers. It will get complicated.” His lips found mine and we kissed for a few seconds, our bodies pressed together, his penis hard against my groin.

“No,” I said, finally making a decision. “I can’t.” I pushed him away from me. “This is a bad idea. I like you. canlı bahis siteleri And I like Doug too. I don’t want to mess up our relationship. And also,” I added, “I’m starving.”

“Let’s get some food.”

“Let’s. But first I need to get my clothes on.” I gathered up my clothes from the railing, held them to my chest, and stepped into the kitchen, into the light. I walked through the kitchen, through the dining room and living room and started up the stairs. He followed me, still naked. I said, “I’ll get into something more comfortable and be down in a minute.”

“I’ll fix a salami and cheese plate for us,” he said. “Hummus? And I’ll bring it up.”

I paused on the steps looking down at him, his half-hard penis dangling between his legs. “Yes, hummus would be good. If you bring the food up to my room, we could watch a movie.” I had a much better television than the boys did. And, I didn’t want the evening to end so early. The dress I was holding to my front slipped down to expose my breasts again. I really, really didn’t want the evening to end. But I didn’t want to have sex with him either. It would cause problems. A movie, wine, food, and laughs — and let’s forget about his tongue on my clitoris and on my nipple and deep inside my mouth.

“Put on some clothes, please, before you come up to my room,” I pleaded, but with a laugh. “And don’t forget the wine.” I climbed the stairs.

I’m a methodical and careful person — as a physicist should be. I don’t do things on the spur of the moment. (Well, there were those three one-night stands.) I don’t delude myself, so I thought, but I was hoping against hope that he would come up to my room –just for fun, not for sex. Most definitely, not for sex. No way, I would not have sex with a roommate. That would be stupid — and I have an IQ way up there. I’m a sensible person and sex wasn’t all that great. I could take it or leave it.

In my room, I selected a wrap-around kimono to wear. It was red silk with white dragons embroidered on it. It was short, touching above my knee and it belted around my waist. I tied the belt loosely to reveal the cleft between my breasts. I turned the lights down low. I was ready to greet him, in that nether world in which my body screamed out for sex while my mind said no. Now, if only he would come up those stairs, we would see which would win, mind or body.

He came up, dressed in blue jeans and a t-shirt, carrying a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a large platter of salami, cheese, hummus and bread. I was sitting on the sofa, my legs crossed, showing skin all the way up to my thigh, my kimono loose over my breasts, my hair down over my shoulders. I was pretending to adjust the television. He sat down beside me and put the cheese platter on the coffee table in front of the sofa and poured each of us a glass of wine. We bumped glasses, and sipped the wine. I leaned back on the sofa, resting my legs on the coffee table and the kimono gapped open at the bottom. I pulled its folds back over the hair between my legs.

After my second bite of cheese he kissed me and his hand slipped beneath the silk of my kimono and the knot around my waist came loose and he was pressed up against me, his hands running down my back, and over my buttocks.

I made one more try to exert mind over matter. “We shouldn’t be doing this. You have a girl friend. And what will Doug say?”

He ignored my questions. “I’ve wanted you since the day you moved in. I just couldn’t figure out how to tell you that. I’ll telling you now.” I reclined on the couch, the kimono fell away, my body bared to him and he kissed my breasts, the hardness in his pants pressing against my leg.

I made one more effort. “We’ll regret this.”

“No, we won’t” He paused in his assault on my breasts, reached down, unzipped his pants and pulled out his penis. It fit between my legs and tickled my clitoris while we kissed. We kissed a long time, his hands on my buttocks, his penis probing, not entering me, but rubbing against me, my crotch, my stomach, my thighs.

“You have to use a rubber,” I said.

“I have one, but I’m not ready to use it yet.”

I couldn’t think of any more excuses. Surrender. Total surrender. “Let’s move over to the bed. It’s more comfortable.” I left the kimono on the sofa and walked over to the bed, turned down the spread, adjusted the pillows, and lay down on the sheet, my legs crossed in a last attempt at modesty. He took off his clothes and climbed in with me, and parted my legs with his hands.

“I want it to last a long time,” he said.

“So do I.” For me, güvenilir bahis sex had usually been wham bam, thank you ma’am — a quick emission inside me and then turn over and go to sleep. I usually didn’t climax. That had led me to conclude that I wasn’t good in bed. The earth didn’t move for me. I was a scientist, not a romantic.

Doug taught me the error of my opinion. “I want to drown in you,” he cooed as he kissed me, his lips moving down, and down, and finding the slit between my legs with his tongue, and I sucked in my breath audibly. “Oh, God!” I had never been eaten before. Kissed, yes, a tongue stuck in me, but never eaten to completion. I spread my legs like a frog to assist his entry as he pressed his tongue deep within me.

He lifted his head. “Do you want to cum? Are you into multiple orgasms?”

“Yes,” I gasped. I didn’t know whether I was into multiple orgasms or not, rarely having even one during sex. But it felt good and in about one minute, I was hunching wildly, riding his tongue, waving my legs back and forth, arching my back, and crying out, “Deeper, deeper, please deeper!” And I exploded, stiffening, shaking, wrapping my legs around his head, reaching down with my hands to pull his hair, jerking away his head and tongue from my throbbing clitoris which was too sensitive to be touched. “Oh, fuck, of fuck, oh fuck,” I said as each spasm hit me.

When it was over, I was gasping for breath, and sweat was streaming down between the cleft in my breasts. “I gotta breathe, I gotta breathe,” I said as I pushed him away. “Oh, fuck!”

He was lying beside me as I recovered, his finger tracing lazy circles on my breasts. I was still twitching uncontrollably. “Ready for more?” he asked.

“Oh, yes.”

“Do I need to use this rubber? I’m safe.”

“So am I.” He left the rubber unopened on the table beside the bed.

I woke up first next morning. Jason was laying on his back, uncovered, his penis shrunken. The bed smelled like sex — a lot of sex. I was still seeping sperm and the hair on my pussy was matted and sticky. I had a slight headache. Too much wine. I couldn’t even imagine how awful I looked. “What have I done?” was my first thought. I slipped out of bed and went over to the sofa, retrieved my kimono, and put it on. I needed liquid and coffee. I slipped down the stairs. There was no sign of Doug. He had spent the night at his girl friend’s place. I got a jug of orange juice out of the icebox and poured myself a large glass. Then, I filled the coffee pot with water, put coffee in the filter, and turned it on to brew.

At that moment the front door opened and in came Doug. “Hi, Beck,” he said cheerfully. He walked into the kitchen, stopped suddenly and stared at me.

I covered my face with my hands. “Oh, God, I’m sorry, I look a fright.”

“No, actually, you look pretty good.” He sniffed the air. There could be no doubt about the smell: sperm, vagina juices, and sweat. “Where’s Jason?”

“Uhh…upstairs,” I said evasively.

“Let’s have a cup of coffee out on the deck.”

“I really should do something about myself.” I pulled the red kimono tighter around me.

“You look fine. Let’s have coffee.”

I agreed because I felt I had to explain something to Doug. I don’t like a situation just hanging there. I like things tied up neat and clean. Doug and I drank our coffee and he prattled on and I sat silently. I should say something, but I didn’t know what. Finally, he asked, “Did you and Jason have a good time last night?”

“Yes, but I’m sorry.”

“Why sorry?”

“Well, I love living here with you two and I don’t want to cause any problems.”

“You’re not causing any problems.” He took my hand in his. “I won’t tell anybody, if that’s what you’re worrying about. Jason’s girl friend doesn’t need to know. Nor mine. It’ll be our little secret. Just the three of us.”

“That’s reassuring,” I said. “I don’t do this kind of thing. Not as a rule I mean. It just happened. I…I” I didn’t know what else to say.

“Hey, I take it you fucked Jason. No big deal.”

“Boy, did she ever. I’m fucking fucked out.” It was Jason. He had woken up, put on his blue jeans, and was standing at the door to the deck, a cup of coffee in hand. “Madame Curie here has hidden talents.” He laughed. Doug laughed. And I laughed. And relaxed. We sat on the deck and drank our coffee and laughed, and I didn’t even bother to cover myself quickly when my red kimono parted.

“Shower time,” Jason said when he finished his coffee. “Will you scrub my back?”

I looked at Doug. “Scrub the man’s back,” he said. “But think about me down here all by myself.” I got up out of my chair, and leaned over to kiss Doug. His hand found my breast inside the folds of my kimono. I kissed the tip of his nose and pulled away to follow Jason, tucking my breast back under the cloth.

Jason and I had sex before we took a shower — and afterwards too.