CMNM 101: Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Beginning college life meant leaving my childhood home and moving into a minuscule studio apartment. Although the rent was affordable, my earnings were low, and my savings wouldn't last indefinitely. As an enthusiastic individual studying international marketing, I swiftly obtained a sales position in a neighborhood electronics store, working primarily on weekends. The compensation sufficed to cover rent, providing some degree of security. I was not keen on partying since I had no interest in alcohol, and I desired to establish connections beyond fellow students.
Transitioning to a new city necessitated establishing multiple types of networks. Before the advent of Grindr, where phones were primarily employed for conversations and texting, there existed specific circles of individuals with similar interests. Once accepted into one, there were no further requirements. I detected these at the local swimming pool I often visited and observed a cluster of seniors who frequented the place. The expressions they resurrected upon observing me were indisputably suggestive. Aiming for my behind, and harboring no disdain, I found myself fulfilling their desires. The facility was tranquil during the daytime, with few other patrons, creating ample private encounters. However, I had to safeguard against potentially uninvited guests. Established in the sauna, I accommodated their touches, inclining my legs wider to facilitate easy access and had no reservations about it.
Throughout my years as a student, older gentlemen have intrigued me, encompassing even the elderly. As a 19-year-old, I was esteemed and able to carry on conversations, making me a desirable candidate for countless seniors. I interacted with these men sporadically, only one or two times per month. My networking strategy garnered results through word of mouth, because the men I encountered would broadcast my contact information to others, resulting in additional encounters. Engaging in whimsical activities centered on mutual pleasure was a relatively effortless undertaking that offered safety due to the preceding connections I established. The notion of being a whore subsided, despite fulfilling that precise function, as I held appreciation for the services rendered.
Most encounters involved providing amusement for a duration of an hour or two, bearing no objections to caressing, hugging, or kissing. Numerous times my encounters culminated in me assuming a prone position, with my buttocks elevated, and my hosts executed on their beds. My participation in these encounters rewarded me with finances, as well as satisfying sexual experiences. These unions kindled an interest in learning more about diverse fetishes, and I plan to recount them at a later time. As a crossdresser, my preference for wearing women's garments, such as knee socks, plaid skirts, and white button-down shirts, was particularly appealing since it harmonized with my personal proclivities toward stockings and heels.
One of my most memorable experiences transpired when a retired professor with a lengthy career at the same university introduced me. His field of expertise differed from mine, only occasionally delivering lessons to students. Although approaching his mid-seventies, his athletic figure deviated from the stereotypical elderly citizen. His hair had bleached with silver, and despite his balding head, he exuded vitality. Similarly, he always dressed impeccably, adorned in a suit vest, tweed pants, and brown Oxford shoes. His eyeglasses were situated low on his nose. His abode boasted a generous collection of books, with vast spaces dedicated to his bibliophilic lifestyle. During his spare time, he generally spent it in his leather Chesterfield armchair, engrossed in a book.
When I first arrived at his condominium, which was situated in proximity to the campus, I realized I was inadequately informed about his primary interests. I only possessed the acronym CMNM - clothed man, naked man. I was presumed to be the naked man. Although unsure whether sex would be an element, I was prepared for any prospective eventualities. Engaging in self-preparation, I eliminated any body hair through shaving and prearranged an enema to ensure cleanliness. The task fascinated me, and I was keen to perceive the remainder of the engagement.
After opening his door in his home attire, we communicated before he collected my jacket and stored it in his wardrobe. Captaining the proceedings, he directed me to leave my clothes on a nearby table and accompanied me to his study room. Although uncomfortable with the directness of his approach, I also appreciated his assertiveness and transparency.
I found myself completely naked in a flash and made my way towards him. He sat down in his armchair and instructed me on where to stand next to him. He was observing me attentively, occasionally touching my arm or squeezing my butt. My shaved balls appeared to intrigue him, and he spent a considerable amount of time caressing them. I felt not one ounce of embarrassment being in the nude in front of a clothed professor, nor did I know if he had any sexual intent. My erection was semi-rigid, so the situation had an impact on me, but it was nevertheless fascinating. I'm not sure if I'd be comfortable in any public place as an exhibitionist, but in that moment, it just felt so natural.
He picked up a book and began reading. Regularly, he'd glimpse up from his book to examine my body. He never looked me in the eyes - only my body. I felt like an object, a statue without a pedestal, yet for some reason, it didn't bother me in the slightest. I was simply waiting for his next move.
I stood there for approximately thirty minutes, watching him read his book. Then, in a gentle tone, he inquired if I could make him some tea. I gratefully obliged, turned around, and headed to his kitchen. I filled the kettle with fresh water, activated it, searched for a silver try, and placed a tea cup and saucer on it. I also discovered some biscuits, placed them around the saucer, and obtained a cup of jam and honey. I carefully carved a slice of lemon on the biscuits. I've never worked as a waiter but was rather proud of my rendition of a five o'clock tea. I put the tea bags in the infuser, poured the boiling water onto them, and brought the tray back to him. I placed it on a table next to his chair and stepped back into position.
The professor took a sip of tea and dipped a large amount of strawberry jam onto a biscuit. He put the teacup back on the tray. Using a biscuit, he reached out and touched the tip of my erection with the jam. My erection was instantaneously fully erect. He then took another biscuit and scraped some jam from my erection, with drips of pre-cum. He ate it with relish. I comprehended how he desired his jam served in the future.
When he had finished his tea, he placed the tray on the ground. With a soft voice, he asked me to kneel down and cum on the tray. I did so with delight, gripped my jam-coated erection, and started vigorously stroking it. He dipped his finger into the honey jar, then into my mouth. I was sucking his finger while stroking for him. I couldn't comprehend how horny I was about the entire experience. It didn't take too long for me to ejaculate all over the silver tray. I clenched my penis one final time, then stood upright again and assumed my original position.
He picked up the tray and placed it back on the table next to him. He dipped his finger into the honey jar once more and started massaging my ass with it. I had difficulty keeping my balance, especially when I felt his honey-covered finger penetrating my anus. He was watching me with great focus while digitally penetrating my ass. That was something else.
He disengaged from my anus, and I took a moment to regain my composure. I was astonished at how intense the recent experience was. He didn't even fuck me and yet I felt utterly drained. I was begging for more. He asked me if I was available the following week at the same time, and I instantly agreed. I returned to the hallway, dressed, collected the envelope he gave me, and exited the room. The last two hours had been intense, and I was unsure as to why they had such an influence on me. He didn't even fuck me and still, I wanted more of this. The professor ended up totally spending me.
