Bi or Young Man Crazy?


My affair with Greta, the European Creative Director of the ad agency for which I worked as a freelance copywriter was over. We had never looked on it as being permanent, but it had been intense and passionate and had lasted six months. For a confirmed lesbian like Greta that was a long time and for a ‘not quite sure’ lipstick like me it had been a wonderful interlude.

This was the second ‘big’ relationship in my life to end suddenly. My marriage had gone tits up when my bisexual feelings became stronger than those for my husband. And now this with Greta.

I was not disconsolate. I had no illusions about what Greta and I had. It was not love, we both knew that, but it was enormous lust. It was a lust that we played out almost daily for those six months. We became sexual adventurers, sexual explorers and sexual devotees. But of only one form of sex, lesbian sex. I was convinced that I had now turned a corner with my sexuality and that there would be no going back. No more quick fucks with guys, no more blow jobs or one night stands no, from now on I was a woman’s woman and I would only go with women.

Greta and I complimented each other as perfectly as two women can. We are both in our early forties, quite attractive with good bodies and nice figures. She has blonde, short hair, I have long black hair. Her body is angular, a little like a young man’s, mine is curvy and voluptuous. She has hardly any tits to speak of and I have enough with my double Ds for both of us. She is naturally a leader and dominant, I am by inclination a follower and am innately submissive. She delighted in fucking me with a strapon and I was only too willing for that to happen, most nights and often more than once.

It was not a traumatic break up. She wanted to go home to the States and I would not go with her. That was it, over and done with and no hard feelings.


Life moved on. I remained convinced that I was now a lesbian, but could not come out as Greta had. I stayed securely in the closet, but indulged myself at gay and lesbian bars and clubs. That gave me the sex I needed so badly, but it also brought me many disappointments; gay and lesbian people tend to be more promiscuous and transient than our straight colleagues.

After Greta, I became bored with London and although I had met a delightful young woman, Sammi, I became restless. I almost called Greta to say I had changed my mind, but knowing that she was ensconced in San Francisco and was deeply into the lesbian scene there I didn’t. But I wanted a change of scenery and life-style.

I decided to go back to lecturing, something I had done for a while a few years ago. As I was looking for a vacancy I suddenly thought why not move away from London, I never had before, but why not? I was a city girl really, but the countryside had an appeal; that was certainly a change

I scrutinised the Times Educational Supplement and The Guardian looking for positions as a lecturer in English or Creative Writing at a university or sixth form college. I really didn’t fancy Lancashire, Northumberland and most of the far North counties other than Yorkshire and I certainly wouldn’t even consider Scotland or Wales. Devon and Dorset had an appeal and as I have always enjoyed Norfolk that got on the short list as well. I was surprised at the number and variety of jobs on offer. I registered with a few online jobsites and started sending my CV off. I was pleased to be invited to numerous interviews.


“Why go away?” Sammi said as we lay together on my sexually underused, fashionably low double bed in the Islington townhouse.

“I just feel it’s time for a major change,” I replied kissing her blonde head.

“What if it doesn’t work out?” She asked cupping my full and slightly sagging breast and licking the nipple that was still rock hard from us just having made love.

“I’ll just come back. I won’t sell the apartment so you can use it when you’re in London and of course I can pop back and meet you here any time and you can come and stay with me when you like.”

We didn’t talk much more for half an hour or so for we had other uses for our mouths; she tasted wonderful!


I was surprised at how many interviews I obtained, but thoroughly enjoyed touring round England visiting towns I had never been to before. Although most of the schools and colleges offered accommodation and travel expenses I didn’t take the accommodation reimbursements for I preferred to be independent. I could, therefore, stay overnight in hotels even though it may not have been necessary, and I could choose where I stayed, rather than the cheap fleapits their allowances would provide. I did though accept their travelling allowance, which at forty pence per mile more than covered the costs of driving my M3 to their location.

I always get a thrill out of staying in hotels by myself, not that I do it that often. But when I was married and was working I had to stay away at times and usually gained a nice tingle when checking in, having dinner or a drink in the Kastamonu Escort bar. Nothing much ever happened, but it was the possibility that something might that gave me the buzz. At that time though, I was happy with in my marriage and although I got the occasional come on I turned them down.

During my ‘interview tour’ I wasn’t naughty, well not with strangers, or men come to that. I had several chances, but didn’t progress them. After all I was now a confirmed lesbian and although probably not a penis hater, the idea of going with men slightly revolted me

I was now in a complete Catch 22 situation. I’d had a wild period after the divorce came through bedding six guys and ladies in about as many months, well to be accurate I bedded only four and carseated two! I hated myself for what I was doing so I stopped dating. But I needed sex, yet didn’t want to get involved, didn’t want to become emotionally dependent upon a man, couldn’t bring myself to make the mental connection needed to turn one night stands, which I hated, into memorable sexual experiences, so I rejected men and I had taken girl-friends including Greta. Sammi is my current naughtiness. She’s twenty three and is a blonde, blue eyed beauty studying stage and film production at an acting school in Bloomsbury, London. She is also totally bi-sexual.

Sammi came with me on a little tour I made in Yorkshire and Derbyshire when I had a number of interviews over a three day period. That meant staying two nights in hotels, which was lovely.

“Would you move all the way up here?” The Essex girl asked as we had dinner together in the hotel dining room in Harrogate.

“I might, why not?” I smiled back at my beautiful, young, sexy and very available dining partner and lover.

“Well it’s up North ‘aint it.”


“Well they speak funny don’t they and things are different up here.”

“Yes Sammi that’s why I might move here, things are different, I’m different, I want to do different things,” I told her as we went up in the rickety lift to our room on the fifth floor.

“What do you mean different things?” She asked as she stepped out of her jeans and I pulled her tee shirt over her head baring her small breasts that rarely had the dubious benefit of a bra, but then with the pertness and firmness of her youth, her B cups didn’t need any support. Now in just a tiny pale blue thong she looked so young, slightly vulnerable, but massively sexy; I could hardly wait to fuck her, so I didn’t, I just did it.


In the end I took a post as a Lecturer in Creative Writing at a redbrick university just outside Whitby in North Yorkshire. It was the beauty of the national park and the sparkling eyes, nice grin and neat body of the head of the Arts Department that swung it for me. The male lecturers were not bad either

During the three months waiting to take up the post at the start of the autumn term in early October, I visited the area a few times. I rented a three-bedroomed cottage some six miles away from the college in a delightful village nestling in the rugged, but lovely moors that in Yorkshire are called ridings. I bought new furniture, fixtures and fittings and all the other stuff needed to get a new house, well actually a two hundred year old one, going. I found an older lady and her husband who would look after the house and gardens until I got there and then would clean the place and tend to the quite large gardens after I moved in. I found a gym, joined that and checked out the local pubs and restaurants. As my start day approached I found myself becoming excited, but strangely apprehensive as well.

I wanted the change for sure, but was I going too far? I had never lived ‘oop north,’ I knew no one up there; I had a new job and a new home. What the fuck had I done, I thought many times?

Standing in front of the mixed gender class of eighteen to twenty two year olds as I prepared to deliver my first lesson I was hellishly nervous. I was wearing an on the knee length skirt and thin wool sweater, which on reflection I had thought in the ladies just prior to entering the class, was probably a little too tight for it seemed to mould itself to my boobs emphasising their size and fullness.

“Good morning everybody,” I said in the most friendly yet firm voice I could muster. “I’m Tina Neesen and I am here to teach you about creative writing.”


“No stand up straighter,” Sammi had coached me the last time we’d been together in my London house. She had persuaded me that a part of teaching was acting, something they hadn’t told me at the teacher training college. “Body language, voice tones, personal projection, use of hands and movement are all part of communications” she’d explained as I stood naked in the main bedroom of my cottage. “People take in more of how something is said than what is said,” she told me.

We had just had sex. Good sex, but then the sex between us was always good and today’s was no exception.

Sammi has a fabulous tongue and boy does Kastamonu Escort Bayan she know how to use it. After we’d both made the other climax by using our fingers on the other’s clit and pussy, we’d showered together and had a couple of glasses of wine.

“Lay on the sofa,” she’d said in a rather stern way. Although we are quite mutual in our lovemaking, Sammi does have a slightly dominating nature at times, which suits me fine.

I undid the towel that I’d wrapped round me, let it fall to the floor and stared at my young, blonde lover. God she did look good. She really is a Lolita for her face has such a youthful innocence that is quite belied by her womanly body and sexual behaviour. She was also wrapped in a towel, a dark blue one, which emphasised her golden hair and stunning blue eyes and showed off her tanned skin and the freckles on her chest and shoulders.

“No on your front,” she growled as I went to lie on my back.

I turned over as I asked. “Does that come off,” nodding at her towel?

“When I’m ready,” she replied running her fingertips down my back and smacking me lightly on my bum.

“Mmmmm, nice.”

She caressed the slightly oversized cheeks of my full bum and then ran her fingers between them. “No, change of plan.”


“Get up.”

I stood up.

“Bend over the arm of the sofa.”


“Because stupid I am going to lick your arse until I make you cum.

And for the next ten minutes or so she did just that.


Teaching, or lecturing as they prefer to call at colleges, really is like riding a bike, or having sex in a way; no matter how long since you last did it, everything comes back when you do it again. As nervous as I was that very first lesson, by the second or third day I felt fine. Overall, the groups I gave lectures to were pretty good.

Attending the creative writing sessions was optional. It was offered as training in support of the drama courses, as an aid to the programmes that had a large writing element and as part of the business studies process to teach how to produce formal and informal reports and compose copy for ads and promotional material. I was required to give two and a half hour long lectures each day and handle a few two or three person tutorials. I thought having such small numbers in the tutorials was rather inefficient and felt that groups of four would be better. I made a mental note to mention it to Briony Higgins the Head of the Arts Department and the woman with the pert bum and nice smile during my bi-weekly one-to-one that she had with all of her staff. When she had told me about the way she worked including the one-to-one meetings, the devastating smile she flashed as she said it made me almost ask if they were over dinner in my cottage or, maybe over a pillow in my bed.

I didn’t of course, but I was tempted.

The lack of sex of any sort, I hadn’t seen Sammi for three weeks and hadn’t been with a man for months, was getting to me. I felt almost permanently frustrated, I masturbated nearly every night, read, generally disappointing, but occasionally exciting, stories on Literotica. I had even taken to looking at some female porn sites such as and masturbating along with watching women do that; something I fully recommend.

I settled into both the new job and location during October and November. I made friends with three female teachers, got to know some people in the village, joined a local golf club, started bridge lessons and threw myself into the university social life.

“Have you dated any of the staff” one of the students in my creative writing group asked me as we danced at a student union ballroom dancing evening that the lecturers were encouraged to attend. I went to most of the events mainly in the hope that my boss Brioni would be there and she might take me in her arms and press herself against me. No such luck, though, for the only one she attended she brought her husband with her. It seemed to me that he scowled at me all evening; someone must have told her that there was a new female lecturer who was divorced and had long, black hair, big tits and wore glasses.

“No Neil I haven’t” I replied.

“What about any of the students?”

“Of course not,” I snapped back rather sharply.

“Why of course not, it’s not unknown.”

“It’s frowned upon and in any case you’re all young enough to be my children.”

Pulling me slightly closer as we coped with the intricacies of the foxtrot he said into my ear. “Well that’s the attraction to some of us.”

“Really?” Was all I could muster as a reply as I felt his bulge pressing into my tummy.

“Oh yes loads of us have this thing about older women” he whispered, letting his hand slip down my back a little until it was almost touching my bum, making me feel thankful that the lights had been dimmed. “It’s a bit like a contagion, with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Neesen disease is spreading like wildfire.”

“Now, Escort Kastamonu now Neil.”

“Now now what, Tina?”

“You know what I’m saying.”

“And you should know what I am saying.”

“No I don’t” I rather unwisely replied as he pulled me even closer and squeezed my breasts against his chest as his fingers slid into my bra strap through the dress.

“It’s simple.”,

“Is it?”

“Yes, I fancy you.”

“Neil we’d better stop this.”


“Because we should, it’s wrong.”

Fortunately the dance ended and I was able to escape.

Later that evening in the bedroom of my cottage I could hardly believe what came into my mind as my fingers unfolded the pink ‘petals’ guarding my clit. It was Neil’s face, then his bare chest, then his naked body, then his erect dick and then, as I rubbed my clit faster than I usually do, he fucked me.

I could not understand why or what was happening. I was so off men. I had committed myself to a lesbian life-style with Greta and was going that way with Sammi, but for some reason a twenty-year-old kid had got to me so much that I was lying on my bed naked, my legs spread as I finger fucked myself to an orgasm imagining it was him.


I was lecturing the next day to the group that Neil attended. As I stood in front of the fourteen guys and six girls I could feel his eyes on me all the time. I glanced at him several times; he smiled at me and was very attentive, but didn’t seem to make any notes at all.

As I rambled on about the use of short sentences in a far less structured way than I usually do, my mind went back to the previous night. I had started to undress when I felt myself becoming aroused. As I usually do, I stroked my fingertips across my nipples and then pinched them to their full hardness. I slipped my thong off and laid on the bed, one hand squeezing and caressing my tits the other finding my clit. I couldn’t help looking straight at Neil, when I recalled the vision of him coming into my mind and us having sex as I masturbated. His gaze and smile seemed to be saying that he knew all about that, which of course, was ridiculous. His gaze also seemed to undress me so I stood there completely naked delivering my lecture. He could see my full, slightly drooping tits with the coral pink nipples, the slight bulge of my stomach, my patch of neatly trimmed, but only once shaved, tawny pubic hair, with my lips poking through and my thighs, which although slightly chunky, thankfully had no cellulite.

“Thought any more about it Tina?” He asked when he stayed behind after the rest had gone.

“About what?” I replied feeling flustered as I gathered my papers and books together.


“What do you mean us Neil?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t.”

“I want to date you.”

“Date me?”

“Yes go out together.”

“Neil I am forty, twenty years older than you.”

“Wonderful, that excites me.”

“It might excite you, but it would look ridiculous.”

“To who?”

“Anyone who sees us together.”

“Ok then we can stay in instead.”

I laughed at his cheek and walked out


“Well go with him” Sammi said when she came to the cottage the next weekend.

We were in bed. We’d been out to dinner. I’d explained to the pub owner that my niece was visiting for the weekend and as I had said that I wondered if later I might be explaining that my nephew was visiting me!

As usual, immediately we had got home we’d had sex. Then we’d gone to bed and I had told her about Neil.

“Sammi you don’t mean that do you.”

“Yes of course, you want a man don’t you, for sex I mean? Well now and then, I know I do.”

“Er I’m not sure, I have you,” I replied cupping her nice little boob.

“Yes, but you want a cock as well don’t you? One of these” she went on turning the vibrator on that she had taken from the bedside drawer where she knew I kept it.

“Oh god Sammi” I groaned reaching out and grabbing the soft flesh of her pert bum as she ran the vibrator across my nipples, down my bod and onto my mons; it felt brilliant.

“Is it good Teen?” She asked pressing the tip of it against my lips.

“Good isn’t the word,” I groaned opening my legs and raising my knees. She pushed the buzzing vibrator into me. It went up and up and up until only the screw top end was visible between my lips. We kissed and I got my hand between her legs, slipping a couple of fingers into her warm wetness.

“I’m going to fuck you now Tina.”

“Yes Sammi yes.”

She started pushing the eight or so inches of black, hard plastic deep into me and then pulling it almost out.

“Just think this could be Neil. He would be as hard as this I reckon and maybe as big” she said into my ear, just before she pushed the tip of her tongue into it.

“I couldn’t go with him, he’s too young and in any case he’s one of my students,” I groaned as the sensations created by the vibrator rushed through me.

“He’s nearly as old as me Aunty,” Sammi replied using the nickname she sometimes called me. “And you’ll be amazed at how young guys can fuck,” she said using the toy just like a man uses his cock”

“How do you mean?” I grunted.

As I started she croaked. “Rock hard again in under an hour and four or five times a night.”

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