The apartment door

I met Raf and Denis at a club that checks age at the door, and I told them to come over the next night if they still wanted to fuck. Raf is twenty-seven. Denis is thirty-four. Both of them said their ages again on the stair because I ask. I am twenty-five. I am a grown woman with a lease. This apartment is far from any classroom. They do not know my program. They are not professors. They are not anyone who grades me or whom I grade. I do not mix those rooms. I have no boyfriend. I had already decided before I heard the knock.

I stood in the doorway in the leather jacket, black t-shirt, jeans, short dark bob, a thin necklace. They saw me clothed, bright, blocking my own threshold until I chose to move. I told them the rug, my mouth, my cunt, and cum on my chest from both of them. Not in me. I wanted to see it. They agreed. I let them in and locked the door behind, which is a habit and not a cage. Either of them could have left. I could have pointed at the stair.

We got on the rug. I sucked Raf's cock while Denis got my jeans down and rubbed my cunt with two fingers. Then I switched, Denis's cock on my tongue, Raf lining up. I told Raf to fuck me. His cock pushed into my cunt and I moaned around Denis, sloppy, happy, in charge of the mess. We rolled. Denis fucked my cunt while I sucked Raf. I like the swap. I like two cocks and one decision. I rubbed my clit when Denis found a deep stroke and I came with my forehead on Raf's thigh, cunt gripping, a bright loud orgasm I did not muffle. The neighbors can deal with a Thursday.

I got on my back for the ending I had ordered. They knelt over me and stroked their cocks. I held my shirt up. Raf came first, cum hot on my chest and the underside of my tit. Denis followed, stripes across my sternum, his cock jerking in his fist. I looked at both of them and smiled like a woman who had gotten the delivery right. They washed their hands. I walked them to the same door, jacket back on, and did not offer breakfast. In the morning I sat at my own table with a reading for my program, coffee, door shut, nobody from the department in the story. It was just my life. I did the pages. My chest was clean. My cunt still felt well used, and I liked that the night had ended when I said it had.