The Swinging Professor

By Lana Ocean

Clara MacQuarrie is the Head of the English Department of her university. She's well-read, published, smart and gorgeous for a middle-aged woman. But she's alone in the world. Her friends have abandoned her and she doesn't know why.

Then she sees a video of her neighbours and former friends. A crazy sex video.

Are her former friends swingers?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lana Ocean
• Release date: Jun 2, 2022
• ISBN: 9781778117428

Lana Ocean

LANA OCEAN is an award-winning author of fiction in another genre. Erotic fiction started as a lark, and then suddenly she had written thousands and thousands of words.She has compiled many erotic stories over the years and published them using Literotica.com under the name Estcher. She is using a pseudonym because she wants to protect her true identity. Erotic fiction is not something you can brag about at cocktail parties.Lana proudly lives in Canada.Connect with Lana Ocean:EMAIL: [e-mail]

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lana ocean

The Swinging Professor

Erotic Novella

Titles by Lana Ocean

Collected Works

Volume One

Volume Two

Spell Casters Series

The Coming of the Spell Caster

The Schooling of the Spell Caster (coming 2022)

The Rise of the Spell Caster (coming 2023)

Novellas and Other

My Son, My Conqueror

Philanthropy (5 Part Series)

Philanthropy (Complete)

The Swinging Professor

Tomboy Sue

lana ocean

The Swinging Professor

Erotic Novella

The Swinging Professor

by lana ocean

Copyright © 2022

First Edition 2022 (Smashwords)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or in any means—by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise—without prior written permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorised editions.

All inquiries should be addressed to:

E-Mail: [e-mail]

National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Data

ISBN-13: 978-1-7781174-2-8

The Swinging Professor

Erotic Novella

Chapter One

Home is Where the Heart Is

CLARA MACQUARRIE BRAKED at the stop sign and glanced at the other stops. She was alone at the four-way in her residential area and no cars were nearby. She lowered her visor, removed her sunglasses, and revealed her mirror. She brushed her shoulder-length, blonde hair back over her ears and twisted her face from side-to-side to check her crow feet by her eyes. She had started a regimen of applying Pro Retinol and she was beginning to see the effects. She checked her lipstick and, satisfied, closed the visor, replaced her sunglasses on her face, checked for traffic, and turned right. She smiled to herself, knowing she still kept her fine looks. Certainly not the look she had in her twenties, but pushing forty-nine, she knew she still turned heads. Her husband, Chester MacQuarrie, still appreciated her looks and, this morning, he had woken her from a deep sleep, by mounting her in the prone positions, and filled her pussy with his seed, and then had left her wanting for her own release. She hated when he left her without release. Their sex life was sporadic and rarely aligned with her desires.

Despite her sexual appetite, Clara was exhausted. Her day at Bensenville University in Upstate New York had been a long one. University finals were fast approaching and the demands from students for her time were becoming longer than the hours in a day. Her shoes lay on the passenger seat beside her, and she wiggled her stocking feet on the gas pedal and enjoyed the feeling of her bare feet on the controls of her powerful car. She was definitely a fan of fewer clothes, being more.

Her husband had paid for all her enhancements four years ago. She had survived puberty only to emerge with small breasts, but now she boasted a wonderful double-D-cup. She had already been blessed with large protruding nipples, sensitive to the slightest touch, and even a cool breeze could harden them. She adored her new breasts. She had always felt less than a woman with smallish breasts. Her new tits balanced her gorgeous, well-rounded ass, and accented her slim waist. She felt more confident. More sexual. Her clothes fit better, and she loved to display her cleavage and watch the eyes of men and women drift and linger on her chest. She looked for their lust and the hint of envy in women’s eyes. It empowered her, and she was certain her life was better for it.

She drove by several houses she no longer paid any attention to. The road led to her gated community, and she smirked as the houses grew larger and more expensive. Cars went from typical sedans to more expensive cars. Houses grew bigger and more elaborate. The farther she drove, the more expensive the homes. And she knew she lived at the furthest end. She loved driving past the houses, knowing she was in the upper niche. She loved being at the top of the elites.

She now drove a brand new 2019 Mercedes-Benz E-Class Mercedes-AMG E 63, but she could never remember all that. Her husband, Chester, sure remembered. He always bragged to his friends at his law firm, MacQuarrie and McGrath, that his wife drove the finest Mercedes in Poughkeepsie, Dutchess County, New York. She loved the car. Mostly she loved the quiet sitting in it, with the rich smell of leather, and how the seat held her so perfectly. It was so responsive and a light touch on the gas would have her speeding down the highways, the car barely straining, and she felt like she could float. The throaty soft roar of the engine was spectacular, but with the sound dampening in the cabin, she could hear fingers sliding on guitar strings of her music even while driving sixty-five miles an hour down the road.

The houses grew further apart and the land surrounding them grew more expansive. She braked at another stop and turned left to climb the winding road that led to her hilltop community. A large wrought-iron fence rose high to her right and her car sped up the access road, with absolutely no strain. She was eager to get home. Her husband had promised to relieve her of her need for an orgasm. Her pussy was already warm and wet. She pulled the hem of her skirt higher and reached between her legs and ran a finger through her soft folds. Her pussy still held a full bush, her pubic hairs trimmed down to two inches. Her husband loved her hairy pussy, and she smiled, remembering the last time he ate her out with abandon. She loved his hunger. His tongue probing, digging deep, seeking her moisture, and he loved lapping at her hairs down there.

The last time he had eaten her out was two nights ago. She slipped a finger into her vagina and remembered what he had said.

* * *

Jesus, Clara, you’re so fucking wet! he had moaned into her sopping pussy. She lay back on the bed with her upper back up against the headboard of their bed. She had her knees drawn up and held by her hands. Her legs were spread wide, exposing her hairy pussy and beautifully smooth asshole to her husband’s attention. She loved watching him staring at her sex. She loved the exposure and vulnerability of it. It was lewd. It was perfect.

Oh honey! It’s been so long! Don’t stop! she growled with lust and need. Just eat me! I need your fingers in there! Deep!

Chester rammed two fingers deep into her pussy. He was a tall man, standing a half foot above her five feet seven inches. He had large hands with lovely, long, thick fingers. She clamped down hard and then relaxed as he twisted his fingers and then leaned in to suck on her hard and exposed clit.

She would cum any moment, she knew. If only he would bite her clit and…

She bucked as he bit her clit gently. Her orgasm blind-sided her, and rocked through her body, lifting the little blonde hairs all over her body like electricity. It was too much to contain and her voice screamed loud into the bedroom. Oh my God! JESUS! Eat me! Drink me! Get your face in there!

Chester pressed his face hard against her pussy, aided by her hands now gripping his hair painfully and pulling him in. She ground her pelvis against his mouth and tongue. Her vagina squeezed hard on his fingers and then fluttered, milking his fingers, and she wished it was his cock. Suddenly, she wanted more cock. Cock everywhere. Hers to use. To swallow. To take deep inside her mouth and throat. In her pussy. In her ass, burning and thrusting. Her orgasm peaked, and she thrashed on the bed. She pulled hard on his head and felt strands of his hair snap. She didn’t care. She wanted multiple men to fuck her senseless. And women. Their gentle touch mixed with the hard driven need of men to penetrate her. To push themselves into her holes.

The imagery was complete, and another powerful orgasm overtook the last one, and she felt her whole-body dissolve into it. She lost control and squirted directly into Chester’s mouth. She could feel him swallowing and groaned. She wanted those fluids. Pussy juice. Cum. She wanted to be covered in it…

* * *

Reality returned and Clara gasped in her car and pulled her fingers free of her pussy. She glanced at her speed and took her foot off the gas. She had been doing fifty in a residential area. She grinned and sucked on her fingers. She could taste her pussy and a slight salty taste. She had almost cum on her leather seats.

I am so damn horny! she thought. What’s wrong with me?

Since she had turned forty-five, she had recognised her own mortality. She remembered her crisis well. Nothing seemed enough in her life. She believed she had wasted her life. That she had missed out on something important. She had bounced from distraction to distraction. She had tried charity work. Soup kitchens. Writing. Health and fitness. She had even tried cheating on her husband. She had gone back to her student days and seduced a woman from the admin building. She had thrown herself into the woman and did everything of which she could think.

It hadn’t been enough. Something had been missing. She had a one-night stand with a man she found on Tinder. Afterward, she had imagined all kinds of STIs, had herself tested, and swore to never do that again. Random sex was not the answer for her. In time, she failed to discover what was missing, and she simply stopped trying and dived into her work.

Clara was a tenured professor and bore the distinguished title of University Professor. She had risen within Bensenville University from Instructor to Associate Professor to a tenured Professor in only ten short years. Clara had even been the Dean for two years, before returning to English. The strain of being Dean had been too much. The university had pleaded with her to remain. She had raised significant funding for the university over those two years, but it had been far too much for her to continue. She preferred running the English department. She had met Chester during that time. He had understood her need to return to her passion and had been fully supportive. They had married that same year.

The former head of the English Literature and Composition department had died suddenly while Clara was awaiting tenure, and they had immediately nominated her into the position at only age thirty-five. She used to think it was all about being at the right place at the right time, but she knew her friend, the Professor Audra Dourstradmes, had played a large part. Although Audra had denied it.

She recalled the conversation in detail even though it was now ten years ago. They had been such good friends back then. Now, even as neighbours, they were distant. Clara always felt she had disappointed Audra in a way she failed to understand.

* * *

Audra frowned across the table in the back corner of the university coffee shop. Would you stop?

Clara glared at her friend. Clara knew she was complaining yet again about being leap-frogged—as she put it—into her current position at the university. She had known Audra for years, meeting her at a faculty meeting shortly after she had started at Bensenville University. Audra was then a professor of mathematics waiting for tenure. Audra had admitted she had seen her wild-eyed looks and had joined her to make her feel welcomed. Now they were fast friends and even enjoyed being a little flirty with one another. It was easy with Audra. She was stunning in ways Clara envied.

Audra stood a little taller than Clara, but not by much. She was a brunette, with the length just falling past her shoulders. Because of Audra, Clara had a thing for brunettes. She shared the same looking ass. Round and substantial, but perfect for being taken from behind. That beautiful ass flesh absorbing the pounding of a fit man, the skin rippling in waves. Clara had often masturbated, imagining herself with a strap-on pounding Audra’s trimmed pussy. She was gorgeous and Clara had seen all of her over the years working out at the gym and going for long runs around the gated community Audra lived in. Audra also had massive natural breasts. Clara had hers augmented years later because of Audra’s. The best part was Audra was only a year older than her, and they shared the same social references and socialised. They were best friends.

Audra wasn’t finished. Sheila died. She was wonderful. And she will be missed. But she had already recommended you replace her with the dean and faculty. They didn’t even deliberate. You were a natural choice. My God, Clara, you’re known across academia all over the world.

I haven’t even published that much!

"That’s bullshit and you know it! You’ve published six works with the university already! They’re required reading at other universities, for God’s sake. Do