The Catch
(MF, slow, rom, solo, oral) (remove 'nospam')
FINAL VERSION, 6/17/2004 11:28 AM

DISCLAIMER: Don't read if you're under eighteen, or if the laws in your very repressive jurisdiction would suggest that you not read smutty stories such as this one.

I first met her in a McDonald's in downtown Atlanta. I'd walked over there on my lunch break, intending to down some greasy, overcooked, under-flavored swill. The American way, right??

Anyway, this Mickey D's, located in the heart of the Georgia Tech area was always swamped at lunch. While I waited, I enjoyed the view in front of me. Two young, shapely female forms, obviously college girls. One blonde, one brunette. The blonde had short, boyish hair, while the brunette's was tightly curled in a perm, the kind popular about ten years ago. For some reason, I found it strangely appealing, and I continued to stare at both girls from behind -- but mostly the brunette -- as the line inched forward.

It was a hot summer day, the kind we get plenty of in Atlanta. My new friend was wearing short denim shorts and a white T-shirt, and I enjoyed the view of her shapely, well-defined legs and the ample curves of her ass as we waited for our cholesterol-laden meals.

Finally, the two co-eds reached the counter and placed their orders. The clerk slid two drink cups across the counter, and the blonde picked them up. "I'll get our drinks, Laurie. Diet, right?" she asked.

The brunette -- Laurie, I knew now -- nodded. "I'll wait for the bag, meet me out front."

In another minute or so, the clerk handed a brown McDonald's bag to Laurie, and I felt a flash of disappointment that I was going to lose my enjoyable view. She grabbed the bag and swiveled on her sandals to leave. I slid to the left to allow her room to pass; however, just as she started to step forward, so did a construction worker in the next line, trying to steal my spot at the register. Laurie didn't see him.

Her left foot came down awkwardly on his heavy construction boot, and she stumbled, the bag falling from her hand as she tripped forward.

On instinct, my right arm shot out and I caught Laurie around the waist, swinging her up and against the side of my body to keep her from falling. I felt the full weight of her breast pressing against my ribcage, and my cock swelled and throbbed inside my khakis.

"Whoa," I said, releasing my grip on her midsection and picking up her bag from the floor. "That was close!"

"Mmm hmmm," she said, taking the bag from me. "Nice catch," she said, smiling at me. Her light brown eyes sparkled with amusement, and I was captivated by them for a second.

"Oh, it was my pleasure," I said. Maybe I put too much emphasis on the "my," for she blushed, looking even cuter. Then she moved on through the crowd and out the door.

I ordered (and ate) my lunch in a daze, still imagining her blush and the feel of her body pressed against mine. I was useless the rest of the day, my mind filled with prurient thoughts of Laurie.

That night, I masturbated furiously as soon as I got home, picturing those eyes and imagining her lips wrapped around my cock.

It was the first time I'd felt alive -- truly alive -- since my divorce, nearly a year ago.


My marriage didn't even make it to the eleven-month mark. I came home early one day from work, intending to surprise Marla. I thought we might go to an early dinner and a movie, have one of those romantic nights like when we were dating.

She was surprised, all right. So was I.

And so was my neighbor Tim, who was furiously fucking my wife, doggy-style, Marla bent over the kitchen table.

Unbelievably, Tim pulled his dick out of Marla and actually tried to apologize to me. Apologize while he was standing there naked in my kitchen, his cock still hard and red and slick from my wife's pussy. I punched him in the mouth, knocking him to his bare ass on the kitchen tile.

Strangely, Marla said nothing. She just stayed where she was, cheek pressed against the laminate surface of the kitchen table, ass sticking up in the air, her pussy obscenely on display. It was a scene that would replay in my nightmares for months to come.

So, at 27, I was divorced. Damaged goods.

After the divorce, and the sale of the house, and the division of our possessions, I knew I couldn't stay in Chapel Hill. Too many bad memories, too many common friends between Marla and I. How could I face people who knew what had happened? I had to leave.

The only place I had any contacts was Atlanta, and even though I'd vowed to never live in that off-ramp of a city, I had no choice. So two months after catching Marla and Tim red-handed (or was it red-genital-ed?), I found myself teaching undergrad engineering courses at Georgia Tech.

The money was better than I'd made at UNC, and I wasn't tenure track there anyway. It was more expensive to live there than North Carolina, but Marla didn’t fight for alimony, so I found a townhouse outside the beltway that fit within my budget. It meant a half hour each way on the MARTA train every day, but that was a hell of a lot better than fighting traffic all the way into the city.

The workload was heavier at Tech; I was teaching three courses instead of two. But I didn't care. I had only one friend in Atlanta, had no interest in dating, and just wanted one day to pass into the next. I really wanted the world to just leave me the hell alone. Fuck Marla, fuck Tim, fuck them all.

Thoughts of suicide entered my mind more than once; and if I’d had a supply of sleeping pills or a gun, who knows what might have happened.


Yet somehow, Laurie got to me. The mere sight of her had awakened feelings I’d thought were gone forever. Over the next few days, I felt like a teenager again -- I was horny all the time. I masturbated as soon as I got home from work. I wanked off in a bathroom stall at work. I stopped wearing underwear, just because. For the next three days, I was hard the entire ride on the MARTA train, thinking about what I'd do when I got home.

I went to Mickey D’s for lunch every day that week, but never saw Laurie or her friend. I did, however, see the construction worker that’d tripped Laurie; I wondered, should I thank him??

Thursday, three days after I'd seen Laurie in the McDonald's, my cock was hard and throbbing, crying out for release as I found a seat on MARTA's North Line. I had just placed my backpack in my lap, trying to cover the embarrassing lump in my pants, when I felt the bench seat move as someone sat down next to me.

"Well, well, if it isn't my hero," she said.

I turned my head to see Laurie sitting next to me, a smile quirking up at the corners of her lovely mouth. I swallowed with some difficulty, and I felt my cock get even harder.

"H...Hi," I stammered out.

"I'm Laurie," she said, extending her hand. "From the McDonald's the other day?"

"Of course," I said, as if I could have forgotten. I took her hand in my own; her skin was smooth and soft and cold and her nails were tapered and painted a lovely shade of pink. "I'm Jack. Jack Wilson."

"Good to meet you, Jack," she said.

"You too," I said, functioning on auto-pilot as I checked her out. She was dressed similarly to how she had been on Monday, this time wearing a grey Tech t-shirt and pale denim shorts.

We rode in silence for a few minutes, the train car noisily clicking and clacking over the rails. I racked my brain trying to think of intelligent conversation, something to say to this lovely girl sitting next to me.

"So..." we both started at once, and then laughed. My anxiety level dropped a notch. "Go ahead," she said, still chuckling.

I nodded at her chest, then immediately blushed. "Are you...a Tech student?" I asked.

Her smile widened a bit before she answered; I wondered if she'd figured out the reason for my blush. "Yes," she said, finally. "I'm in the architecture masters program."

"Ah, good program," I said. My heart lifted a bit at the news she was a grad student; I didn't feel like quite as much of a pervert anymore.

"And you?" she asked.

"Other side of the lectern," I said, smiling. "I teach in Mechanical Engineering."

Laurie blinked, looking at the backpack on my lap. "You're a professor? You don't look any older than me."

I grinned. "Thank you. I'm not tenure track or even a Ph.D. yet. So technically, I'm an 'instructor,' not a 'professor.'"

"Do you like it?" she asked.

Still a little on auto-pilot, I answered honestly. "It's okay. The department was better at UNC, but I had to leave North Carolina."

"Why? Were you wanted by the law there? For seducing your students or something?" she said, winking at me.

I laughed out loud, causing the other passengers on the train to stare at me. "No, nothing that exciting. I needed to move because....because of....personal reasons," I said, lamely.

"Ah, I see," Laurie said. Her eyes flickered downwards towards my left hand, which was resting on top of my backpack. If I hadn't been watching her eyes so closely, I might have missed it.

The awkward silence that followed was broken by the electronic voice over the speakers. "Dunwoody, next stop. Doors open to your right. Dunwoody, next."

"My stop," Laurie said, nodding towards the exit doors. She gathered up her backpack and stood to leave.

"I've got two more to go, I'm at North Springs," I said. I tried to think of something else to add, but by then the train had stopped and the flow of passengers was carrying Laurie towards the exit. "Have a good evening," she called out over her shoulder.

"You too," I said. As the river of passengers continued to pour out of the train, I craned my neck around to get one final glance at Laurie. Squinting my eyes against the bright sun, I saw her walk up and greet the same blonde girl she'd been with at lunch the other day. The two of them moved off towards the parking lot as the train moved off again.

As soon as I got home, of course, the first thing I did was masturbate, thinking of Laurie's firm tits underneath her GT shirt.

The second thing I did was look up Georgia Tech's employee handbook online; specifically the section entitled "Consensual Romantic Relationships." I found this enlightening:

"It is the policy of the Georgia Institute of Technology that employees (including faculty) may not engage in consensual romantic or sexual relationships when one party to the relationship is a supervisor who supervises, evaluates, or grades the other party."

"Supervises, evaluates, or grades, a-ha!" I said out loud, startling my cat, who glared at me with heavy-lidded eyes.


Friday, I practically skipped to the MARTA station and boarded the train, sitting near to the spot where we’d sat the day before. Again, I swung my backpack onto my lap and looked around for Laurie.

By the time the train started moving, I still hadn’t seen her, and my heart sank. Then I realized that I had no idea what her schedule was. Unlike me, she didn’t have scheduled office hours every afternoon; she might not even have classes every day.

*I might not ever see her again!* I thought with a start. *What if she doesn’t normally ride the train at 5:00? What if Thursday she was delayed because she had a meeting with a professor or something? I don’t even know her last name! I won’t be able to find her!*

I spent a fitful weekend with thoughts like that, and also downloaded lots of teacher/student stories off A.S.S.M. to keep myself “occupied” over the weekend.


Monday, I was completely unprepared for my classes, and gave the students a “reading day,” basically just an excuse to goof off. They took it.

When 5:00 rolled around, I raced to the MARTA North Avenue station. I was thrilled to see Laurie passing through the turnstiles, swiping her TransCard just a few people ahead of me.

She turned to the left, riding down the escalator towards the northbound line, and I hurried to catch up with her.

I got on the escalator behind her and admired the graceful curve of her neck beneath her brown curls. “Hi Laurie,” I said.

She turned her head and smiled at me. “Well hi, Professor Jack.”

I laughed. “I’m only an instructor, I told you.”

“But ‘Instructor Jack’ doesn’t have the same ring to it,” she said, laughing as we stepped off the escalator onto the station platform.

“True,” I said. “So how about just plain ol’ ‘Jack’?”

“Fair enough,” she said.

We paused our conversation as the northbound train screamed and shrieked its way into the station, and we boarded. I waved her towards one of the last empty seats and stood next to her.

Laurie leaned over to put her TransCard in her backpack. Her pale green polo pulled away from her body, and I realized that I could see straight down her shirt! Her bra was white and lacy, and I stared at the upper curves of her alabaster breasts.

Predictably, my cock swelled inside my pants, and I was still going without underwear. I’d found that I liked the sensation, and so far I’d been able to keep things “under control” during the day, or at least hide behind the lectern if a female student in the front row wore a particularly short skirt!

Now, however, I had a different problem. My crotch was pretty much directly at Laurie’s eye level! I felt my dick pressing out against the fabric of my pants, and I quickly swung my own backpack off my shoulder, clutching it against my midsection.

Of course, with all this going on, I wasn’t exactly clutching the handrail very tightly. I staggered a little bit when the train started moving, but caught my balance before I toppled onto Laurie and the woman sitting next to her.

Laurie looked up at me, smiling. “Thought I might have to catch you this time!”

“Nah, I wouldn’t do that to you. So, I missed you here on Friday,” I said, in a burst of honesty.

Her smile widened, her eyes twinkled. “You did?”

I nodded.

“How sweet. But I don’t come to campus on Friday, no classes.”

“Ah,” I said. “What about the other four days?”

“Yep,” she said, giving me a quick rundown of her schedule. Turns out she had morning and afternoon classes on Monday and Wednesday, and afternoon only classes on Tuesday and Thursday. “So, I’m usually on the train right about now…obviously,” she said.

“Same here,” I said, giving her a quick rundown of my schedule. Teaching four days a week, with office hours or class in the afternoon every day.

Over the next twenty minutes, we chatted as the train clattered along the northbound line. Laurie’s seatmate exited the train at the Buckhead stop, so I sat down next to her. I lost my view down her shirt, but at least I didn’t have to worry about poking her eye out anymore!

I asked Laurie if she was from Atlanta originally. Turns out that she was from south Florida, and had come to Georgia Tech as an undergraduate on a diving scholarship. *That explains her shapely legs,* I thought to myself.

“So, after I got my bachelor’s degree, I was already used to living here in Atlanta, and I decided just to stay at Tech for grad school,” she said.

I nodded. “Do you still dive?”

“Not on the Tech team,” she said. “My scholarship was undergrad only. But I still fool around on the board once in a while, just to keep my skills up.”

“What about you?” she continued. “I think you said you’re from North Carolina?”

I winced. How much to tell her? “Yeah, that’s right. Originally from Virginia, but I went to UNC for my master’s, and they offered me a job after grad. But I like it better here, anyway,” I finished.

I glanced out the window. We were pulling into the Dunwoody station. Laurie gathered up her backpack and placed a hand on my forearm as she stood.

“Good to see you again, Jack. Same time, same place, tomorrow?”


She waved goodbye and stepped out the doors. I lost sight of her for a few moments in the mass of passengers exiting the train. As we started moving again, I caught sight of Laurie, her distinctive curls bouncing in the summer breeze. She was already off the platform today, walking down towards the Hammond Drive exit, away from the parking lot.


The next day, I was better prepared for class, and my mind was a little more settled. Now that I knew Laurie’s schedule, I felt that we could settle into a bit of a routine. I didn’t know what I was going to do with that knowledge; I still didn’t feel ready to ask Laurie out anytime soon. I didn’t even know if she had a boyfriend.

But, at least I knew when I would see her again. Sure enough, she was on the North Avenue platform when I got there that afternoon.

“Hi,” she said. “Glad to see you.”

“You too,” I said honestly.

“I got out of class a little early today, so I could have taken the last train. But I thought I’d wait to see if you’d show up in time for the next one,” she said, smiling at me and blushing a little.

I felt my own cheeks heating. “Aww, thanks Laurie. That’s sweet.”

The train came within a few minutes and we boarded, finding two seats next to each other this time. Once the chaos of boarding had ended, I asked her about the previous afternoon. “I saw you walking out of the station yesterday,” I said. “Do you park at Perimeter Mall or something?”

“You watched me?” she asked.

“Well, I mean, I just happened to see you as the train pulled away.”

Laurie smiled. “Oh, okay. Well anyway, my roommate and I ride together and park at the station in the mornings. But on Monday and Wednesday, Janey doesn’t get out of class until 7:30. So I leave the car for her and walk home.”

“Oh, I see. Where do you live?”

“Meadowview Apartments. Just off Ashford-Dunwoody Road, at Meadow Lane. So I cut through the mall parking lot and then down Ashford-Dunwoody.”

I nodded. The Perimeter Mall was adjacent to the Dunwoody MARTA station. Then I did some quick calculations in my head.

“That’s a decent hike, especially in this weather. It must be over a mile,” I said.

“It is, just over,” she agreed. “But I wear comfy shoes, see?” she said, extending one long, shapely leg and rotating her ankle to show off her Nike Air sneaker.

I nodded. Distracted by the view of her leg, and the fact that her skirt slid up her thigh a bit, I didn’t think about what I said next. Which is probably why I said it.

“If you want, I could give you a ride home on Mondays and Wednesdays. I mean, if you don’t mind riding up to my stop?”

Laurie grinned. “Really? I don’t want to inconvenience you, but it’d be nice not to have to make that walk twice a week.”

“It’s no problem. I live up off Roberts, so you’re not even ten minutes away from me.”


The next day, she rode with me to the North Springs station, and I drove her home. She complimented my car, which I’d just had washed and waxed and vacuumed that morning, knowing Laurie’d be in it.

It took about 15 minutes to get from the station to her apartment complex. It was a typical suburban Atlanta development, not much different than mine. A set of twelve wood-sided buildings in a circle around a central tennis court, pool, and clubhouse. Laurie’s building was around the back, facing the parking lot.

I dropped her off, and she thanked me profusely for the ride. I stared at her lovely ass as she walked up the sidewalk to her front door.


Thursday, the train station was much more crowded than usual. There’d been a stoppage on the northbound line earlier, and so there was a backlog of passengers waiting on the platform. I found Laurie in the crowd just as a train arrived in the station.

The crowd pushed and jostled towards the open doors and I was bumped from behind, shoving my hips up against Laurie’s ass. “Sorry,” I mumbled, embarrassed.

She didn’t answer, just reached back with her hand, and took mine in hers. Her hand was soft and cool in my own, and I let her lead me into the train.

We were both forced to stand for the entire ride, the train as crowded as could be. It was loud, hot, and generally just unpleasant. Laurie and I weren’t able to have a conversation, as we were separated by a couple of other passengers.

“See you Monday,” she called out, as she exited the train with dozens of other people at Dunwoody. I watched through the window as she greeted Janey and the two of them walked down the platform to the steps. As the train started moving again, Laurie turned her head around and waved, and I felt my heart lift.


We continued in this pattern for a few weeks, and just generally got to know each other better. I’d say we became friends, even.

My mood always lifted on Mondays and Wednesdays, and then kind of plummeted after Thursday afternoon, when I knew I wouldn’t see Laurie again for three days.

One Saturday, about a month after we’d met, was no different. I moped around my apartment for most of the day, in a funk. Finally, around 4:00, I headed out to do some errands I’d been postponing for most of the day.

After getting my car washed, dropping off some dry cleaning, and stopping at Home Depot, Target, and Best Buy, I was headed back towards home past the Perimeter Mall.

Just around the corner from Laurie’s apartment.

Not sure why, I made the left turn to cut through the mall parking lot, and a few minutes later, I was at the entrance to Meadowview Apartments.

I drove through the parking lot, slowly. It was dusk, the streetlights just beginning to come on.

As I made the turn around the final corner, I saw something that made my heart skip a beat. A guy, obviously dressed for a Saturday night date, was heading up the walkway towards Laurie’s apartment.

“Shit!” I said aloud. I drove past the parking spaces for Laurie’s apartment, glancing to my left. The guy was about halfway up the sidewalk.

I drove on to the next curve, and pulled into one of the parking spaces facing the grassy area between Laurie’s building and the next. From here, I was about perpendicular to the sidewalk leading to her front door, and about 40 yards away. I watched as the guy walked up to the door and knocked. I couldn’t see the door open from my vantage point, but a minute or so later, he stepped inside.

“Shit! Damn! Shit!” I said, uselessly, banging my hands on the steering wheel. What right did I have to be so upset? I hadn’t ever asked Laurie out, hadn’t ever hinted that I might ask her out. This might be her long-term boyfriend, for all I knew.

I sat there in my car, the engine still running, going through all the possibilities in my head. Should I run up there and knock on the door, interrupting her date? Ridiculous.

Should I pound on the door and declare my undying love for her? Preposterous.

Before my brain could spit out any more garbage, I saw Janey, Laurie’s roommate, step out of the apartment, followed by the Mystery Guy. She took his hand as they walked down the sidewalk, and I could see her saying something back towards the apartment door, though I couldn’t see if Laurie was standing there.

I exhaled, forcefully, as the two of them drove off. He was Janey’s date, or boyfriend, or whatever. Thank goodness!

Now, I was faced with a different dilemma. Should I go knock on the door? Pretend I was in the neighborhood and decided to “drop in,” which was pretty much the truth?

After debating this for a few more minutes, I decided to give it a shot. Unbuckling my seat belt and turning off the motor, I climbed out of the car and strode across the lawn towards Laurie’s building.

About halfway across the green expanse, however, I lost my nerve. I swiveled on one foot and practically ran back to my car. Starting the engine, I raced home, tears stinging my eyes.


My students got another “reading day” on Monday, as I’d spent all day Sunday in a useless funk. This thing with Laurie was starting to take over my life, and it was all in my head.

Laurie and I were both unusually quiet that afternoon, on the train and in my car on the ride to her apartment. When I pulled up in front of her place, she sat in the car without moving, gazing out the passenger window at the grass where I’d walked on Saturday.

*Does she know?* I thought to myself.

“Jack, I’ve got to tell you something,” she said, and my heart skipped a beat. “I sa... – I mean, I won’t be on the train the rest of the week. I’ve got to go to St. Louis tomorrow afternoon, and I won’t be back until Sunday.”

“Oh,” I said, disappointed. “Um, okay. Have a good trip?”

“I will, thanks. See you in a week,” she said. She paused, biting her lip, as if she had more to say, but then flung the car door open and hurried up the sidewalk.

And out of my life for a week, maybe longer. Had she seen me? Did I scare her away? Did she think I was a stalker??


Needless to say, I was not pleasant to be around for the rest of the week, berating my students unnecessarily when they made mistakes in class.

But nothing prepared me for what happened Friday. I was walking from the train station to my first class, and stopped to pick up a copy of Technique, Georgia Tech’s student newspaper. Sometimes good for nothing but the crossword puzzle, I usually picked one up once a week or so anyway.

And there, right on the front page, was Laurie!!! A head shot of her, underneath the headline, “Tech grad student competing in Olympic diving trials.”

I stopped in my tracks, causing a biker to nearly plow headlong into me. I read further, my eyes only focusing on certain phrases:

“Architecture student Laurie Adams will compete in this weekend’s US dive team finals in St. Louis, hoping for a berth on the 2004 Olympic team...”

“Adams has been diving since she was seven, and won the 1997 Junior Southeast Regionals...”

“...she competes in the 10-meter platform category, considered the most challenging of the disciplines...”

“...although she’s considered a long shot to make the Olympic team and travel to Athens, Adams says she enjoys the competition...”

“...Adams has qualified for Saturday’s finals, which will be televised nationally on NBC at 8:00 PM...”

I just stood there, stock still, jaw hanging open, on a sidewalk in the middle of Tech’s campus, reading the article over and over and over again.


I was a nervous wreck all day Saturday, waiting for 8:00 to roll around. I’d briefly thought about trying to get in touch with her, wish her good luck. I’d thought about driving to her apartment, asking Janey for a way to get in touch with her.

Or maybe, I thought, I could call a bunch of hotels in St. Louis, ask for her by name.

In the end, I decided not to call. I figured Laurie hadn’t told me about this for a reason. She didn’t need me making her more nervous.

Finally, 8:00 arrived and the trials started. I started my TiVo and sat on the edge of my sofa, waiting anxiously for my first glimpse of Laurie.

Suddenly, right after the first commercial break, there she was, climbing the ladder to the platform.

“Next up, Laurie Adams, from Georgia Tech,” the announcer droned. “Adams finished seventh in the preliminary rounds on Wednesday and Thursday. A 23-year old graduate student in architecture, Laurie was the 1997 southeast junior champion.”

I barely heard the last part of that, because Laurie was on the platform now. She wore a simple black bathing suit with the Georgia Tech yellow jacket on the front, just beneath the neckline. Her hair was tucked under a black swim cap, and she strode confidently towards the edge of the platform, some 30 feet above the surface of the pool.

Her first dive was a reverse, and she moved to the edge of the platform and then turned around, facing away from the pool. She inched her feet over the edge of the platform and stood on her pointed toes.

Her calves and thighs and ass were tight as she stood there, a powerful goddess. I’d never seen anyone so beautiful, and my cock swelled to full erection in seconds. I couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly, her legs flexed, and she launched herself off the platform. She twisted and turned and somersaulted before entering the pool with a very small splash, and the crowd cheered appreciatively.

I watched, mesmerized, as the TV coverage switched to the underwater camera. Laurie kicked and swam towards the edge of the pool, her body lean and powerful and graceful.

She effortlessly pulled herself out of the pool, and I saw that she was grinning as she walked over to an older man, obviously her coach. They hugged as Laurie’s scores were displayed, all 8.5’s and 9’s.

The camera turned away from her, to the next diver, and I wanted to scream at the TV, “Who cares about her! Where’s Laurie?”

Between dives, I caught glimpses of Laurie in the backstage area or in the Jacuzzi tub the divers used to keep their muscles warm and loose. She was radiant, and my heart skipped every time they showed her.

Laurie dove four more times, and none of them were quite as perfect or erotic as the first one. On her last, needing a perfect dive to make the Olympic team, she didn’t get it.

She over-rotated (at least, that’s what the announcers said she did) and was quite far from vertical as she entered the water, creating a large splash. Her scores were only 4.5’s and 5.0’s, and she finished sixth overall. Still, she was smiling the last time the camera showed her.

The telecast ended. In daze over what I’d just seen, I rewound the TiVo recording and paused it at the display of Laurie’s first dive. She was incredible, her long strong body stretched out on my TV screen. In slow motion, I started the playback, and watched as she effortlessly launched from the platform and twisted her way to the pool below.

Over and over again I watched that dive, her body spinning through the air and slicing into the water. My cock was throbbing inside my jeans, aching for release. Finally, I stripped my clothes off and left the TiVo paused as Laurie stood backwards on the platform, stretched out like a golden statue, her skin wet and glistening.

I stroked myself relentlessly, feeling my orgasm pending with almost the first stroke. Faster and faster I jacked off, until the pressure built to the point of no return, and I exploded, calling Laurie’s name as I came all over my stomach and chest, staring at her picture on the TV.


I woke up Sunday morning feeling better than I had in a long time. My head was clearer, and I wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe I felt better now that I knew Laurie had some secrets too? Maybe I was just glad we’d have something else to discuss on Monday, other than the fact I was stalking her?

I puttered around the apartment, cleaning things that hadn’t been cleaned in weeks. I prepared some real lessons for my classes this week. No more “reading days.”


“So, this champion diver walks into a bar...” I said. I’d caught up with Laurie on the edge of Tech’s campus, as we both headed towards the MARTA station on Monday afternoon.

She jumped, startled, and stopped in her tracks. I moved up alongside her, and she smiled at me.

“You saw, huh?” she asked. “I wondered if you would.”

“You were in the ‘Nique on Friday,” I said, gesturing to a newspaper box as we walked towards the station. “I couldn’t believe it; there you were, right on the front page.”

“Yeah, Janey told me,” she said. “Some champion diver, not exactly how I wanted to finish my career.”

“Well, I thought you were amazing,” I said. “Granted, I know nothing at all about diving. But you blew me away.”

“Thanks, Jack. You’re a sweetie,” she said, resting one hand on my forearm as we rode the escalator down into the station.

We were quiet for the next few minutes, as we passed through the turnstiles and boarded the train. Finally, once we were in motion, I turned to her.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Laurie?”

She frowned. “Oh. Jack, I don’t know. It’s complicated. It’s just – well, I’ll explain it to you. But not here, not like this,” she said, gesturing at the train. “Can we get a cup of coffee or something when we get off the train?”

“Sure,” I said, puzzled. We rode the rest of the way quietly, each lost in our own thoughts.

When we got to my station, I led her to my car, and we drove in silence to one of the Starbucks that are on every corner in metro Atlanta. After we’d each ordered a caffeine-infused beverage, we sat down on a couple of overstuffed chairs in the corner.

Laurie set her mocha down on the side table. “Okay, Jack. Okay. Jack. Here’s the thing,” she said, wringing her hands nervously. “I – well, I saw you last Saturday.”

“What do you mean, you saw me?” I asked in a strangled voice.

“I saw you, outside my apartment, walking towards the door and then turning around and leaving. I happened to be looking out the blinds,” she said, blushing.

“Laurie, it was just – I mean, I was in the area, and stopped by, and was going to knock, but – I’m not stalking you or anything,” I said, talking too fast.

She rested her hand on mine. “Jack, I’m not pissed. If anything, I’m flattered.”

I exhaled, not even realizing that I’d been holding my breath.

“But that’s why I didn’t tell you about the Trials,” she said.

I blinked, confused.

“I didn’t want to scare you away,” she said softly, her blush deepening. “Some men are intimidated by strong women, by athletes. My last relationship ended because of my diving,” she said.

“And...” she said, trailing off.

“And what?” I prompted.

She looked me straight in the face, her brown eyes so honest and full of emotion. “And, it seemed as though you had your own...issues...with asking me out?” she said, her inflection rising to a question at the end of the sentence. “I didn’t want to add to the problem,” she said, casting her face down and staring into her coffee.

I leaned back in my chair, stunned. She hadn’t told me about the diving because she didn’t want to hinder me asking her out? Truth was, it might have. She intimidated me anyway, all women did after what happened with Marla.

My mind was racing, and then I realized that I owed Laurie. She’d been so honest, so open with me. I had to return the favor if I wanted to continue a relationship with her – and I certainly did!!

“Laurie,” I said tentatively, leaning forward towards her. “I like you. I really do. And I want to ask you out. But I have to tell you something first.”

And so, sitting there in a fucking Starbucks, I poured my heart out to this young girl I’d known for just over a month. I told her everything about Marla and I. I told her how we’d met as teenagers, the typical high school sweethearts. I told her about our pregnancy scare in 12th grade.

I told her about our college years, how we broke up and got back together on several occasions, how I’d suspected she might be cheating on me even then. I told her how I finally asked Marla to marry me, and how she changed after we were married, how our sex life dwindled away to nothing.

Finally, hesitatingly, with tears streaming down my cheeks, I told Laurie about that fateful Thursday afternoon when I found Marla and Tim together. She was crying with me by the time I finished.

“Oh, Jack,” she said, moving over to the arm of my chair and wrapping me in a hug. “I had no idea,” she said, her hands rubbing my back. “I knew – I mean, I figured there was pain in your past, and guessed it had something to do with a woman, but I didn’t know...”

“You couldn’t have known, Laurie. I didn’t tell you,” I said, wiping my eyes as she sat back down across from me. “I didn’t tell anyone. I’ve never told the whole story out loud to anyone before.”

We glanced around the room, noticing a few Starbucks customers looking at us strangely. I looked at my watch: 6:58. We’d been here for over 90 minutes.

“Laurie, would you like to go out with me?”


We went out to dinner that night at a casual Mexican place in Alpharetta. Our first date. We drank margaritas, flirted with each other. Laurie wore a cute little black skirt that showed off her sexy legs, and a low-cut blouse that had me distracted all night long.

I walked her to her door that evening, and we shared our first kiss, deep and soulful. I felt her tongue trace the edges of my lips and my body reacted accordingly. I think Laurie felt it, pressing her hips firmly against mine.


We dated several times over the next few weeks. Dinners, movies, a Braves game, roller skating; we met a few times for lunch near campus. Once we even went back to the McDonald’s where we met.

“I was staring at your ass the whole time I stood behind you in line,” I told Laurie over hot, salty french fries.

“And then, I turned around and fell into your arms, didn’t I?” she said, smiling.


Our physical activities never moved past some deep kissing at Laurie’s front door, however. I was pretty sure she wanted to invite me in, but I wasn’t sure I was ready for that.

To me, sex was still about betrayal. I couldn’t get past the image of Marla bent over our kitchen table, her pussy open and drooling from the cock that had just been inside.

But, there was no denying that Laurie turned me on; I masturbated like a fiend as soon as I got home following our dates.

One Saturday night, about three weeks after our conversation in Starbucks, Laurie wanted to go out dancing. After a quick meal at a local Thai place, we went down to Little Five Points to one of the sweaty, overcrowded dance clubs frequented by people Laurie’s age.

Laurie looked amazing, and I thoroughly enjoyed watching her lithe body move and swivel around the dance floor. She was wearing a classic “little black dress” with a short flared skirt that swung out away from her hips every time she spun and swiveled. She pulled her luscious body against mine for the slow songs, gyrating her pelvis against my own.

My cock was hard and throbbing in my khakis, and this time I know Laurie felt it. She angled her hips and rubbed herself against me, the slick fabric of her dress sliding across the front of my pants. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, sliding her pelvis against my hardness, over and over again.

Finally, after relentlessly teasing me like this for over an hour, she placed her lips close to my ear. “Let’s go home,” she whispered, nibbling on my earlobe.


I wanted to take her home. I wanted to take her to my place and make hot wet love to her all night long. My entire body, specifically one area, was screaming for that.

And yet, I didn’t. I took her back to her place. I just couldn’t. I just wasn’t ready. I could see the disappointment in Laurie’s eyes when I declined her offer to come inside.

I drove home, despondent. Sex was ruined for me, thanks to goddamn Marla.

Or so I thought.


After taking Laurie home, I drove back to my place, depressed and horny. I pulled off my clothes as soon as I got home, intending to shower and masturbate.

I pumped my cock idly with one hand as I started the shower with the other. This was going to be the extent of my sex life, I thought ruefully.


When the doorbell rang, I guiltily pulled my hand away from my dick, out of instinct. I shut the shower off and grabbed my towel off the rack. My heart was pounding as I wrapped the towel around my waist and headed downstairs.

There was only one person who I thought would be ringing my doorbell at 1:39 AM, and when I looked through the peephole, Laurie was there. She was still wearing her dress from the club, and she had a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. She also had a very determined look on her pretty face.

Forgetting for a second what I was wearing (and what I wasn’t wearing), I unlocked the door and swung it open. “Hi,” I said.

“Well, hello,” Laurie said seductively, her eyes traveling up my body as she stepped inside. My cock, which had deflated somewhat, swelled again, and Laurie didn’t miss the motion under my towel. She waggled her eyes in the direction of my crotch.

I closed and locked the door behind her. “I’m glad to see you – but why? And how did you know where I live, anyway?”

“You’re in the phonebook, silly Professor Jack,” she said. “And as for ‘why,’ I think you know the answer to that.”

I sat down on one of the bottom steps of my staircase. “Laurie – I really like you. I’m very attracted to you – but I guess you know that,” I said, blushing. “But I still – I haven’t slept with anyone since Marla, and I haven’t slept with anyone else but Marla for almost five years.”

“Jack, I don’t care,” Laurie said, crouching down on the foyer floor, facing me. “I want you, you want me, let it be that simple.”

My eyes flickered downward to the space between her thighs, and I caught a glimpse of her black panties. My cock stiffened further, and again Laurie looked at my crotch.

“In fact,” she said, “Let me show you just what I mean.” She moved to her knees on the bottom step and leaned her torso close to mine. She kissed me deeply, her tongue snaking into my mouth and playing with mine.

I nearly jumped off the staircase when I felt her soft hand on the inside of my right knee, sliding up my leg. “Shhh, baby,” Laurie whispered into my mouth. “Let me do this. Let me make everything better for you.”

I groaned as her hand slid higher up my thigh, my cock throbbing uncontrollably. Suddenly, her smooth fingertips were tracing across my balls and sliding up my shaft. She broke our kiss and pulled back from me a bit, her right hand still stroking the skin of my cock.

With her left hand, she deftly undid the towel from my waist and pushed it off me. My cock jutted out obscenely, and I moaned from the combination of Laurie’s hand and the cool air now drifting across my dick.

Laurie lowered her head towards my lap, her destination obvious, and my heart pounded even faster. Oral sex had not been a favorite of Marla’s; I could probably count on one hand the times she’d gone down on me. I’d had other, occasional blowjobs, but never a regular lover who enjoyed oral.

I gasped when Laurie’s lips first made contact with the tip of my cock. “Oh god, Laurie, oh god oh god.”

She opened her lips and let the head of my dick pass into her mouth, still stroking the base of my shaft with her hand. Her lips and tongue danced around my glans, her brown curls bobbing over my lap in the dim light. I entwined one hand in her hair and leaned back on the stairs, the edge of a step digging into my lower back.

I felt my ass cheeks clenching and relaxing, clenching and relaxing, as Laurie continued to fellate me. Her lips and tongue swirled over my cock, and she took me a little deeper into her mouth with each stroke. I could feel every ridge, every square inch of her lips and her tongue as she sucked me.

She made love to my cock with her mouth, swirling her tongue over my head and shaft, sucking up and down on the sensitive skin at the top of my cock.

My balls were burning with the need to come, my cock swelling and throbbing in Laurie’s mouth. She knew my need was strong, my orgasm imminent. Still pumping my shaft with one hand, she drew her mouth back off my cock, holding only the tip between her lips, and used her other hand to gently squeeze my balls, her tongue dancing around the underside of my glans.

“Oh Laurie oh I’m gonna oh Laurie oh oh oh,” I said, my hips coming up off the carpeted stairs. With a loud groan that probably woke the neighbors, my orgasm blasted out through my cock. Strong spurts of semen shot from my balls up my shaft, and I closed my eyes and leaned my head back on the stairs as I felt Laurie’s lips and tongue swallowing my load.

I don’t know how many minutes passed before I finally opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. My cock was still semi-hard, twitching in Laurie’s hand, the tip still resting on her lower lip. I brought my head up and looked at her.

“That was amazing, Laurie,” I said.

“For me too,” she said, looking at me, her eyes glistening. “How are you?” she asked.

I paused for a second, wanting to honestly answer the question. “I think I can answer that in two words,” I told her.

“Marla who?”


Later that night, I was holding my cock in my hand, staring at Laurie’s beautiful ass. She was bent over my four-poster bed, hands gripping the bedpost. I’d already come once in her mouth and once in her pussy tonight, and she’d had several orgasms.

I gazed at her lovely furred slit, pink and swollen and drooling and ready for me. But was I ready for this? When, in the midst of passion, Laurie blurted out “oh god fuck me from behind Jack,” I froze for a second.

But I didn’t say anything, just kept quiet as we rearranged ourselves, and I stepped closer to Laurie’s beautiful backside, the fronts of my thighs touching the backs of hers.

Gazing down at her lovely form, I was filled with feelings of love and lust, nothing like the thoughts of hatred and betrayal I’d felt the last time I saw a woman from this angle.

*And that’s the difference,* I realized with a start, as I guided my cock between Laurie’s pink, slick pussy lips. We groaned in unison as I found the angle and my cock slid into her warm wet pussy.

I pumped her faster and faster, all thoughts of my traitorous ex-wife driven from my head as my cock pistoned in and out of Laurie’s tight cunt. I felt her pussy walls clutching at my cock with each withdrawal, and then parting around me as I thrust back in, deep inside her.

Laurie had one hand on her own pussy, rapidly frigging her clit, and I increased my pace. My balls slapped against her strong thighs with each stroke, and amazingly, I felt another climax building.

From the sounds of things, Laurie wasn’t far behind, as she was moaning my name with each thrust. “Oh Jack so good oh so good fuck me with your big cock oh it feels so goooooooood,” she shrieked.

Suddenly, her hips trembled and I felt her pussy contracting and rippling around my cock. “Jack god yes Jack Jack Jack I’m commmmmiiiiiiiiiingggg!” she yelled as her pussy clenched around my cock and then released a flood of moisture, drenching my shaft. I groaned and pumped her harder, thrusting my cock through her tighter pussy, faster and faster, until I exploded inside her, coming so hard it was pain and pleasure, release and relief and therapy, all at once.


A month later, Laurie moved in with me. The timing was perfect, as Janey and her boyfriend had been wanting to move in together as well.

We watched the Olympics on TV, of course, particularly the diving competitions. We watched as a good friend of Laurie’s took home a silver medal, and I asked her if she was disappointed not to be in Athens.

“No,” she said, her fingers intertwined with mine. “Because I ended up with something much more important than a medal.”


It’s now been almost a year since that first night we made love. Six months ago, I put an antique diamond ring on Laurie’s finger. She’ll be done with her master’s in December, and we’ll be married shortly thereafter. She wants kids, I want kids, and I doubt we’ll wait very long to get started.

Just yesterday, Laurie said something to me that really made me think:

“What if you’d gone to Burger King for lunch instead?”


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