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My Sweet Boy, My Goy Toy

By on November 13, 2012
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Goy Toy 2
The sex was transcendently good.  I was in awe of her hunger, her intensity, her raw wanting.   I’d never been with someone so frank about what she wanted, so articulate and specific in her demands, so verbally, manually, orally adept.   It was the best first time I’d ever had; we fucked over and over again against walls and on countertops and – finally – in her bed.  When the light came, I went off to teach my 8:00AM discussion section without showering, wanting to keep Chana’s scent on my skin for as long as possible.  I wanted other people to smell her on me.

I couldn’t play it cool. I wanted to see her every night.  It was Chana who set the boundaries, reminding me of my research and my papers and our mutual grading obligations.  Not wanting to seem as needy as I was, I readily agreed to pace ourselves, even though I knew damn well I would have dropped my advanced paleography seminar in a heartbeat for her.  She knew better.

Her boldness took my breath away; one morning, as we sat in the large lecture hall, listening to the professor for whom we both TAed drone away, Chana arranged her jacket over her lap, pulled up her skirt, and grabbed my hand.   Our eyes fixed ahead, I slid my hand between her legs.  She was already slick; I fingered her slowly to orgasm, listening to her breathing quicken almost imperceptibly.   When she came, she expertly feigned a small coughing fit, patting her chest with her right hand while the fingernails on her left gouged my arm.  Fuuuuuck, she groaned almost inaudibly.  It was the guttural release in her words that pushed me over the edge. For the first and only time in my entire life, I ejaculated in my pants without being touched.

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Hugo Schwyzer is a professor of history and gender studies. Follow Hugo on Twitter at @hugoschwyzer.
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