Road Trip - Jim Mellon's Erotic Journey Across AmericaChapter 16: Iowa free porn video

I shook my head part in puzzlement and part in wonder; I'd said the three magic words, 'I Love You, ' to three women since I started my road trip: Kim, Summer, and Crystal. I wasn't sure whether Summer and I were serious or just pretending to ease the baby-making space we created. I had wanted to tell Lauren, and got right to the edge but could say the words that way. I wanted to say them to Ellen too. I felt love deep inside for June, Betty Sue, and Pat. Embarrassed, I couldn't remember Karen and me saying those words to each other on a regular basis until she had gotten really sick and recovery looked doubtful. Had we gotten that complacent about our relationship up until then?

Before I'd met Karen I'd wondered whether I would ever find someone to love and who would love me. I'd found two I could be explicit with since Karen's death, and if I'd pursued them more aggressively perhaps every woman I'd slept with might fall in the same category of loving and loved. I'd told Kim and Crystal that I might fall in love too easily, however, they each brushed off that possibility and told me to be open to the strong emotional feelings I felt for someone and to be sensitive to my own emotions.

The night before I left Branson, in response to a question from Crystal, I counted the states I'd visited on a map: thirty. She also had me count up how many women I'd had sex with since my road trip started: seventeen. Crystal laughed at my innocence. Lauren had known this would happen; I had been skeptical. I'd been sending Lauren detailed descriptions of my hookups at her request; Kim, Crystal, and Ellen had asked too. Kim had urged me to include Anna in my intimate ramblings, and to follow-through with the incestuous feelings I'd had for my sister – at least to discuss them with her. I felt skeptical about how she'd receive either my emails or a discussion about the two of us making love. Flirting and teasing was one thing; making love a far cry from that. I gritted my teeth and sent the detailed email about the events in Branson to Lauren, Kim, and Anna. I copied Crystal and Ellen even though they'd been the main event.

My trip north from Branson took me to Iowa City, Iowa, home to the University of Iowa. A fraternity brother and friend, Jed Jessup lived there and taught psychology and philosophy at the university. He'd often asked for me to visit, but Iowa always seemed an out-of-the-way place. He'd recently made tenure, but that, he said, was not the big reason for me to come. The big attraction was ... well, he said he couldn't tell me until I came and saw for myself. He did say it peripherally had something to do with some students he mentored. He'd cheered when I told him I finally planned to visit.

My trip from Branson to Iowa City took three days. A weather front with long-lasting and nasty thunderstorms moved slowly across Missouri halfway along in my trip. I spent a full day laid-up in a Best Western motel in Hannibal, Missouri, overlooking the banks of the Mississippi. I learned a lot about the small town of twenty thousand from the back of my dinner menu at the motel. The community was the boyhood town for Mark Twain and the setting for many of his books including Tom Sawyer. It had been a railroad and river town, and briefly a pony express hub. Cement for the Empire State Building came from the area. Many trees filled the landscape in the town and surrounding area, but the terrain was pretty flat, at least relative to what I grew up with in New England where they have real mountains.

I exercised in the motel's gym, swam laps for a couple of hours in the indoor pool, and caught up with my various emails. I meditated and practiced my guitar and singing – memorizing two songs that Crystal had suggested.

The third day from Branson, I found Jed's house with the help of the GPS on my iPhone. Initially, I thought no one was home; since I arrived about three o'clock, and I expected Jed would be at work at the University. I parked my motorcycle so it didn't block the garage doors and unpacked a couple of things, stacking them near the front door. On my second trip, the door opened and a beautiful young woman in her early twenties stepped out.

"Hi," I exclaimed in surprise, ever the master of witty conversation. I went on, slightly in awe of the gorgeous creature before me; "I'm here to visit Jed Jessup; he gave me this address. Am I at the right home?"

I became mute and studied the woman: exceptionally pretty face – the blonde hair in a sweep across the right side of her face, blue eyes with a hint of mystery in them, high cheek bones that carried some healthy color in them – the color you'd see from a runner or tennis player, sculpted jaw, and a beautiful neck that displayed a pearl choker. She wore some carefully applied makeup, particularly around her eyes, and a light shade of gloss lipstick, but nothing that appeared overdone or gaudy. She appeared to be trim, medium height, naturally busty, and athletic – based on the muscle tone in her arms and shapely legs. She wore beautiful and meticulously crafted casual clothes: a colorful scoop neck summer shirt and white shorts that complemented her coloring. The scoop went low enough to reveal some cleavage without screaming the fact. She looked as if she had a professional job, and she had wisdom in her eyes that caught my attention. I wondered about her relationship with Jed, but thought better than to ask.

She nodded politely and gave me a warm and welcoming smile, and came forward to meet me and shake my hand. "Yes, this is Jed's, but he won't be back until six or so; he has a four o'clock class that doesn't end until five-thirty. He's usually home around six unless some student corners him."

She spoke with authority and familiarity about my friend, almost as though she was his wife, but Jed had never mentioned being married or even settling down. Might he have married someone over half a generation younger and not broadcast the news? Jed and I were in our thirties; this woman looked to be in her early twenties. I detected a level of intimacy between her and Jed just based on how she talked about him and the smile on her face when she mentioned his name.

After a suitable pause to absorb the information about his late arrival, I said, "He invited me to come and stay for a few days. We were in college together – fraternity brothers."

She said suddenly with a flash of recognition, "Oh, forgive me. You must be Jim Mellon!"

I nodded.

The pretty college girl came and put her hand on my arm in a sexy gesture and gave me a polite hug. She started to bubble with enthusiasm now that she had placed me, "Jed mentioned you were coming, but he didn't mention the motorcycle or say when you'd arrive." Now, she paused before adding, "Oh, where'd my manners go; please come in. I'm Sally – Sally Furth, and no wisecracks about my name – like 'sallied forth;' I think I've heard them all."

She smiled again. "Bring your things inside. I'm not sure what Jed had planned for sleeping arrangements when you got here; those change all the time, as you'll see. This is a good time to arrive actually; Jed said you could help with our two newbies who arrive tomorrow." I know I looked puzzled, but she didn't explain that remark. "For now, just put your things in the corner of the living room by the French doors leading out to the deck."

Sally picked up my bedroll and tent and carried them inside, and I followed with my travel guitar and a duffle bag. I went back to the bike and brought in two other duffle bags and the two saddlebags.

Sally studied me – clinically, analytically. I could almost hear the wheels of evaluation moving inside her head. I'd shaved that morning and given myself a haircut the day before. She made me feel as though I wanted to look my best for her. My riding clothes left something to be desired relative to being best dressed; I wore my western boots that seemed to work well on the motorcycle, khaki shorts, and a t-shirt with the arms hacked off that had 'Nashville' written across it in large letters. From being outdoors so much, my skin had bronzed at least a dozen shades darker than Sally's. I think my posture improved around her too.

Lacking vanity, I knew I looked reasonably good to women: square jawed, pleasant face, sandy hair, gray eyes, and a trim but muscular physique. I'd lost a lot of weight since Karen died, and toughened my body almost back to what I'd been in the military. The People magazine article that had appeared a month or so earlier called me 'outrageously handsome.' I still had trouble grappling with that superlative description and blushed when I even thought of the term.

Sally leaned against a doorframe watching me stack my bags and made a statement that seemed to come out of the blue, "You meditate don't you? You're spiritual."

I smiled warmly at her as I stood in the middle of the living room, "Yes, I try to meditate for at least twenty minutes each day, though I miss a few days here and there for various reasons."

She said in a nice tone, "I can see the inner serenity you've started to carry. You share it with others – thank you for sharing with me." After a pause she said, "I also see an important inner sadness– something that involves snow and someone young, something that is slowly fading but will always be with you."

I volunteered without showing emotion; "My wife died at age thirty-two this past winter in New England. There was snow that day. I loved her very much. My trip – from Massachusetts to California – is helping me clear my head about her passing and my loss." I paused and asked, "Do you read minds?"

Sally said with precision of thought, "No, I don't think so – well, maybe. I'm just sensitive to the vibrations people give off. Your spiritual nature comes through strongly. The sadness is in your eyes, not always but it flickers on and off irregularly. When you smile I see the depth of your sorrow and happiness, and they are both deep in their own dimensions." She raised her eyebrows and smiled; I felt as though she had seen my inner most secrets. She concluded her assessment with another insightful observation: "You love and are loved ... by several ... by many."

As I nodded in agreement with her statement, she smiled exceptionally warmly at me. Sally then took things in a different direction: "There's shade on the back deck now – that's good; it won't be so hot. Come and sit with me. I'll get you a drink – beer, wine, soft drink?"

I opted for a diet coke. Sally and I sat while she told me a little about herself. She had a room in Jed's house. There were a couple of others who lived there too; she said I'd meet them soon enough because they'd be home by dinner. Sally was a second-year graduate student in psychology working on her doctorate. Not surprising after our initial interaction, her research area focused on intuition, but she wanted to do clinical counseling after her degree. She explained in more detail about her interest in this area, even in ESP, and how she had to avoid using the ESP terminology and being labeled a nut by the conservative faculty. The minutes flew by as we talked.

Gail Richmond, a pretty housemate of Sally and Jed's, arrived at the house shortly after five and joined us on the deck. Gail too had a sophisticated air about her unlike most college students. She dressed to impress as well. She had been blessed with beauty, just like Sally, and had the same air of sophistication around her that Sally had. She obviously paid attention to her body, used makeup judiciously, dressed sharply, had a carefully coiffed hairstyle – jet-black hair with a luxurious sheen, and similar athletic body tone to Sally. She engendered warmth and welcome to me, and like her friend, went out of her way to put me at ease. Gail was a grad student in education, and well along in her certification program; she explained how she wanted to pioneer using the latest technologies in the classroom, particularly at problem schools.

Fifteen minutes later, the third housemate Lena Thomas joined us. The code of beauty and neat physical appearance extended to her as well: red hair neatly styled, trim and athletic figure, precise makeup – particularly emphasizing her beautiful green eyes, crisp white stovepipe slacks, high heels, and a fold over blouse that allowed one to think about her cleavage without an overt request. Her look and style belonged more in an upscale Manhattan office than a mid-western college campus where most of the other students wore sweats, t-shirts, and flip-flops. Based on a few comments and her laughter, Lena had the most evident sense of humor of the three women. She was a business major, intent on getting an MBA degree, and clear about which of the five leading management consulting firms she wanted to work with after she completed the program.

If I'd had to choose the most beautiful of the three women, it would be a Herculean task. Each of them was beautiful. I briefly had the thought that the three of them had come from the same finishing school. They each radiated sophistication and sex appeal; competence and innocence; intelligence and friendship; independence and connectedness. The thought that I could easily spend a lifetime with any of them and never be bored also flashed through my mind.

Jed arrived home precisely at six o'clock. After we completed a typical male greeting of long-time friends, Jed got us all a glass of wine from a newly opened bottle. Sally and Lena put together a platter of hors d'oeuvres to help us last until a more formal dinner. I took note of my friend, comparing him to the frat brother of eighteen years earlier. He was more mature, thinner, tanner, more in shape, more measured in his ways, a far better dresser – equal to the women, and had a warmth of personality about him I'd never seen before. He had charisma unlike the young man I'd know back then. I felt very welcome in his home.

Lena and Gail slipped away while Sally, Jed, and I talked. Before I realized how long they had been gone, Lena appeared and announced that dinner was ready. Jed led us into a dining room where Lena and Gail served a pork roast with all the trimmings – soup, salad, entrée, and dessert. The portions were carefully balanced to appeal to a gourmet. Sally served us all coffee in the living room after dinner – a perfect rich aromatic blend, the end of the perfect dinner. Sally and Jed disappeared briefly, and I realized they had the cleanup duty in the kitchen only after they rejoined us.

Throughout our dinner conversation, I resisted asking about the relation of the three women to Jed. I accepted their earlier statement that they were housemates, but increasingly I could tell something deeper and more intimate happened in the house. Much of the dinner conversation revolved around my unexpected entry into the music industry, Crystal, and where I thought things might go eventually now that I had a new career. I have to admit the women kept me on my toes and made me mentally rise to the occasion of being in their company.

As we finished our coffee, Jed suggested a walk around part of the campus near the house. I accepted, and the two of us left the house to the women.

Several hundred feet from the house Jed said, "I congratulate you for holding in your curiosity. Most people I know would have bluntly asked about the women, their remarkable similarities, and my relationship with them, but you didn't."

I replied with a smirk, "Well, I am curious. I figured if I needed to know you'd tell me when the time was right."

Jed said, "The time is right. The easy answer is that I am the mentor to each of them – Sally, Gail, and Lena; however, that greatly over-simplifies the situation. They mentor each other too, formally, and intentionally. I provide the mentoring service and environment to a handpicked clientele of young women that want to become sophisticated and polished – in every way you can imagine. Right now there are the three you met; two more arrive tomorrow. I've had as many as eight at the same time, living at the house, but that was too many at one time."

"They're each beautiful," I allowed.

"Yes, and I love them all – literally. The three you met are well along in their self-development. They are dramatically different from when the joined me: cultured, aware, stylish, elegant, refined, and cosmopolitan are a few other positive words that now apply to them. When they started you wouldn't have used any of those words about them."

I was silent digesting his last remark. After walking a hundred yards, Jed went on, "I don't advertise; they come to me – word of mouth. The women at the house have selected the two new women, although I met them as well after they were screened. Each student, if I can use that term, must be a senior or graduate student that will live in my home for at least two years, show potential but have lacked role models and motivation to grow and evolve to be the kind of person the three women want to become. We provide that. Oh, one other thing, when they reach us, most are pretty naïve about every aspect of life, including sex." He chuckled to himself.

"Sex?" I asked.

"Yes, they're each old enough when they arrive to know everything in a hypothetical freshman Sex 101 course. We try to be the graduate course, to continue the analogy; but there's all the other things we do along with it that aren't sexual at all."

I pondered his analogy and then questioned, "And, your role in all this?"

"Beside providing the living quarters, I am the head mentor and primary judge of the women's appearance, behavior, growth, attitude, and, well, you name it. While they live with me, I become the alpha male in their lives. Sometimes, I deliver tough love, but I usually do it with a soft touch. I'm not a parent; I'm more like a big brother, but I'm also their lover – and they grow to love each other physically and emotionally. If they don't like what they hear or experience, they are free to leave at any time, but in ten years not one of the eighteen women that have been with me in this endeavor has ever left."

"And they change over time?"

"They change quite rapidly," Jed explained. "Remember, they were chosen because they had potential and motivation. We all support each newbie starting with things like dress, manners, decorum, and etiquette in every aspect of their life – even sex. They agree they will follow our advice, as best they can, one hundred percent of the time. In terms of dress, for instance, each woman will always be meticulously and carefully dressed for every occasion; it's a commitment they make to themselves and to each other. Their goal is to be as good as the best-dressed woman in the country. There is no 'down time' – a time when they might lapse into sweats, t-shirts, and flip-flops. Those pieces of clothing are not part of their wardrobe. They do dress appropriately for a casual occasion, but never in a sloppy fashion. Today, Sally was home and met you in casual clothes. Lena had come from classes, and had dressed accordingly; so had Gail. When people see them on campus, heads turn – every time."

"How can they afford clothing like that on a student's budget?" I asked.

Jed said, "Looking great doesn't require a lot of money, but it does require forethought about what you'll look like in something you buy, and the utility of it in multiple ensembles. I do admit that if the gap is too large I help them financially." He shrugged, "By the time they've been in the house a week or two, I've already fallen for them and vice versa."

"You said you love them – literally."

Jed said, "Yes, I sleep with each of them, sometimes two or all of us at a time. We have an active and robust sex life with no holds barred. Anything goes, and we encourage each other. We'll try anything once, and usually keep what we try in our repertoire of tricks. More to the point, I do love them. I fall in love with the end products, and someday, I'll probably marry one of them. I'm thinking of Sally in that way right now, but please don't say anything to her; I'm still warming up to the idea of having a wife after being a bachelor all my life."

"How long do they stay?"

"Sally's been with me three years – since she was a senior and now working on her Ph.D. dissertation, so she's sort of the Queen Bee; Gail two years, and Lena almost two. Sally has stayed the longest of any because of her degree aspirations. More typically, two years is about right. Lessons are learned, cemented in, and then the tables are turned and each girl mentors a new recruit. When they finish their studies, they leave. Sally likes me, likes the living arrangements, likes the other women, and ... I think she sees long-term possibilities between the two of us as well."

I added, "You've changed too. It's as though you've put yourself through the same program they go through."

Jed laughed; "I did. I had a girlfriend when I started in the faculty here – Mandy. She rode me hard about my slovenly dress, my irregular personality, my moods, my lack of manners in some settings, my slovenly appearance around the house, and on and on. I slowly shaped up, particularly with the positive feedback she gave me. I lost weight, quit drinking so much, pizza disappeared from my diet, and my manners improved – I even took an etiquette course here at the University. I did a lot more over time, ratcheting up in my self-esteem each time I accomplished some self-improvement goal."

"But you did more than that. You got tenure, at a pretty early age too."

"Yes. As I mentored the women, I paid more attention to the rest of myself including the intellectual and career sides of my life. I stopped rebelling. I tightened up what I looked like and how I acted, I got more precise and motivated internally – more disciplined. I negotiated deals with each of the senior professors on the tenure committee, you know, 'What do I have to do to get tenure?' kind of discussions. I then did exactly what they asked, even going further when I could. When my name came up I went through to tenure on the first vote."

I said, "Well, several things come to mind. First, congratulations on turning yourself into an amazing and urbane person. Second, I love your taste in women. Third, I apologize for my dress code; I'm already feeling the pressure to change my slovenly ways."

Jed laughed. He said, "The women will change you if they feel they should. They're more the mentors than I am these days. None of them are shy or retiring, particularly with someone on the inner circle as you appear to be now. Welcome inside."

I said, "I'll watch myself. Tomorrow, I'll try to clean up my act a little, maybe even do a little shopping."

As we walked another thought came to mind; I asked, "What about the University? What would they think or do if they found out about you?"

Jed laughed. He answered me in an oblique way, "Do you know how many unique and sexually-oriented living arrangements there are in this town? Thirty thousand students go here – thirty thousand horny, hormone-laden students pour in here every year to an equally hormone-laden faculty. There are four thousand members of the faculty and administration. Our home is not unique when seen from the outside. I'm just a single faculty member that apparently rents out some of his rooms. Occasionally, I get 'involved' with one of my tenants, but that's not unusual. The University would never think of getting involved in anything like this unless it became unlawful, which, today in this state and amongst consenting adults, it isn't." Under his breath, he added, "Thank God!"

We walked some more with Jed pointing out various campus landmarks. As we got near the house again, he said, "Tonight, you'll probably sleep with Lena. She liked you a lot at dinner; it showed to all of us."

"Errr, she might not want to sleep with me."

Jed chuckled; "She does, trust me. She will also relish having a man all to herself for a change. I've been derelict in giving her one-on-one time for the past two week. You'll fix that tonight, if you're willing."

I shrugged, content to cozy such a beautiful woman, but skeptical that she'd want a sexual liaison with someone she'd just met. Eventually, I admitted, "Oh, I'm more than willing. I just hope I don't disappoint in some way."

Jed read my mind, "We practice an open sexuality among ourselves and our close friends. You are a close friend, particularly after you opened up over dinner about your late wife, your trip, and your entry into the music business. I know you held back some of your sexual liaisons, but you shared everything else, unless I missed something. Moreover, you displayed both your masculine and feminine sides of your personality; that's rare in a male. I read the women perfectly, and they loved having you in our midst."

"What does 'open' mean – although, I can guess?"

"The girls are comfortable with each other, and I often find a couple of them pleasuring each other – sometimes all three. We sleep together in whatever comfortable combinations an evening brings, and a few times we've included an outsider such as you. We make love together, openly and completely; exhibitionism and voyeurism are encouraged. There is no jealousy or possessiveness. We don't have sexual or relationship secrets."

I commented, "I visited another 'group' setting on my road trip –in Pennsylvania. It was a polyamorous group. Even I've come a long way since then, although that was only a few months ago." I laughed and added almost in jest, "Is sex part of the house curriculum?"

Jed responded more seriously, "Yes, actually it is. While we've started with a virgin or two, the one encompassing statement about the girls when they arrive is that they are naïve about life – especially sex. We cover everything we can with them. No one has ever not wanted to participate in this aspect of things. We watch porn, do our own movies and critique them later, try most sex acts and even play with BDSM a little although none of us right now are so inclined. We study the vocabulary about sex, for instance, do you know what the words snowballing, tribbing, or bezzle face mean?"

I knew about snowballing, but that was it. Jed teased me on the other two, and then told me what the terms meant. He went on talking about the mentoring, "Through our open discussions each of us knows how the others want to be made love to, what kind of people they like, and their preferences, joys, fantasies, wishes, and desires. We are quite transparent with each other. The house motto is 'No Secrets.' In everyway possible; we try to make all these things happen for each person. I have been amazed at how 'earthy' and 'raw' some of the girl's fantasies have been; for instance, we had a gang bang here about a month ago since playing out that fantasy became important to Sally, Lena, and Gail."

I blanched at the thought, and then asked, "So who arrives tomorrow?"

"Ah, I'm glad you asked. You can even help out. Tomorrow, Camille and Nicky will move into the house. We have already been working with them, so they won't be taken by surprise by much at the house. They already know the basic rules of the house: no back sliding on bad habits, transparency, and sexual and emotional openness. They've already worked with the women a little on dress and makeup. They have their charter about etiquette, decorum, ethics, politeness, and so forth, but they're both on square one. They've been trying, but it would have been hard in the living situations they've been in, where many of our principles and precepts aren't valued. The peer pressure in our environment is explicitly beneficial and focused on personal goals and positive things."

When we got back to the house, Lena eagerly awaited our arrival at the door. She glanced at me and said in a tentative tone to Jed, "Is it all right if I take care of Jim tonight? Sally and Gail are already getting ready for sleep in your room." Lena closely looked at me to see whether she detected any rejection or resistance. I had none, so I smiled at her.

Jed acknowledged the arrangements, bid us goodnight, and went off to his part of the house.

Lena said, "I took the liberty of moving your things into my bedroom; well, it's more formally known at Bedroom Four. We each have a bedroom, but we seldom sleep alone; who's in which bed is very fluid. Did Jed explain some of our life style to you?"

I said politely, "Some, yes, but I sense there's a lot more for me to understand. He did speculate that you and I would sleep together tonight, but, please, if that idea makes you uncomfortable, I can easily pitch a tent in the backyard or sleep on the living room couch. I rise early to exercise anyway and wouldn't want to disturb anyone."

Lena smiled, almost like the Cheshire cat. She stepped up to me, put her arms around my neck, and pulled my face to hers for a kiss. She gave me a smoldering kiss, the kind that melts steel without a visible flame. I kissed back, and soon the two of us were very preoccupied with each other.

"Come to bed, Jim," Lena said pulling me down the hallway to her room. I didn't need to be asked twice.

Lena joined me in a shower. I hadn't showered since I'd gotten off the motorcycle, so I felt laden with road grime. She scrubbed me all over – between kisses – and allowed me the same privilege to her beautiful nude body. I have a fetish about full breasts with large areolas; I love to hold them, suck on them, and feel the erect nipples all over my body. Lena apparently liked that game too, for she loved to display herself to me, encouraged me to fondle and suck on her, and often rubbed her tits against me as we moved around under the water.