For the Love of 300

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For the love of 300 – a Wicked Wednesday Post


*Blog update* the very lovely Melina Greenport chose this post as one of her Top 3 this week – I’m feeling very honoured considering the occasion of it being Rebel’s 300th Wicked Wednesday x x x see the other choices here

Well, I’ve been having my annual bout of the doldrums over the past few weeks – you can tell when I haven’t been posting any blogs etc… I believe it’s a seasonal winter bluesy thing, but It’s been particularly bad this time.

But, when I saw it was Marie’s 300th Wicked Wednesday prompt, well, I simply had to drag my sorry ass to the keyboard! But as you can also see, it’s Thursday but never mind 😉


For the love of 300


Do you know, I haven’t thought about him for years. My 300 guy. He was my maths tutor, and yes, we were lovers but he was a peer rather than an older professor. A guy passionate enough about maths to see me through my finals.

And see me through he did. We had a brief affair that mainly centred on his love of the number 300. He believed it was a magic number – a number that was the absolute pinnacle of everything. All things centred around those three digits.

I only understood how obsessed he was when we became intimate. It started when he walked in on me brushing my hair.

“Here, let me,” he said, taking the hairbrush from my hand and spinning me to face the mirror while he drew the bristles from my scalp to my split ends exactly three hundred times. I know because he counted every stroke. It was hypnotic, divine, and drew goosebumps over every millimetre of my body. And then, once I was melted and malleable, he nibbled at my shoulders. When he stopped abruptly after a while, I had a feeling it was after that certain number.

You know, he said after we’d kissed, “Three hundred is a special number.”

“Really?” I asked, rolling my eyes. We’d had a fairly lengthy session on quadratic equations and he’d made me do, you guessed it, 300 problems. My head was reeling.

“Do you know how many angels guard the gates of heaven?”

I shrugged.

“Do you know the optimum laps on your clit to give you the best orgasm?”
I blushed. But I knew what the answer would be.

I was very aware he was spinning me a line to get me into bed, but I was also deeply curious about his theory. Certainly the hair brushing, massaging and kissing had whipped me up into a frenzy.

I knew I wasn’t really up for him shoving his dick in and out three hundred times, I’ve had some dull lovers but I reckoned that might have topped it all.

But he lay me back, ensuring I was encased in pillows with one under my hips then parted my legs slowly, sliding his palms up my inner thighs, studying my cunt the whole time. It took all my strength not to snap my legs shut or my eyes, but I did it. I watched him study me, engrossed in my body. He dipped his head forward and begun lapping at my pussy. Swirling and flicking, nuzzling his face into me, pushing me open with his tongue and fingers until my back arched and my eyes closed on their own as I spiralled into the realm of mounting climax.

I kept seeing fractal upon fractal, numbers flying off and merging, all smaller and smaller versions of each other until I became engulfed in their spiralling rhythm. I folded in on myself, a seething ball of pleasure disappearing into the pinpoint of my clit, where like the event horizon of a black hole, everything slowed and stilled.

Then, bang, the expansion was instant, nuclear even, a bomb blast of orgasm shook my soul and the fractal reversed throwing me out into the universe where wave upon wave of eternal bliss carried me to the outer edges of time itself.

Awareness started to return and like a film rewinding faster and faster, I slammed back into my body just as he withdrew from my centre.

He locked his gaze with mine.

“Three-hundred,” he said, and his smile was like the kiss of the three-hundred angels I almost touched just seconds before.



And there we have it, I would like to pay tribute to hosts of memes, like, Marie – Wicked Wednesday, Molly – Sinful Sunday and KOTW, Kayla – Masturbation Monday who offer folks like me a lovely place and platform to experiment. Sometimes on a dry spell, a prompt, or reading the other participants words or seeing their beautiful art and photography, gets the juices flowing once more – so again, thank you! It is no small task hosting these each week. It means a lot x x (and if you are a timid blogger, you are so welcomed here! Don’t be shy, join in! We’re all the same 🙂 )

For more Wicked Wednesday – click the rainbow x x x

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11 thoughts on “For the Love of 300

  1. Tabitha,

    First, OMG, that photo is stunning!

    And as for the tale of the maths tutor…Mmmmm. Scrumptious. I’ve loved a mathematician, so this one held a soft spot for me.

    I completely agree with you about the generosity of the meme hosts. It’s a special community and their daily efforts make it so. xxM

    1. Aww thank you SO MUCH Melina – and especially for choosing it <3
      I love that you had a mathematician lover 😀 And I adore maths - it really is a universal language - just like the orgasm I guess x x x

  2. This is a brilliant story. I love it. Your use of words is divine, the way you described the orgasm. Beautiful!
    Thank you for joining in with the 300th Wicked Wednesday 🙂

    Rebel xox

    1. Thank you Marie – and Congratulations on your 300th Wicked Wednesday – I am in awe of your dedication to this community x x

    1. Ooo Molly – maths is really sexy, I thoroughly recommend giving it a go 😉
      And yes, a good tutor… 😀
      Thanks again for being such an epic meme host too x

  3. That was an awesome story, with great use of the prompt! I had a math teacher in college who was like eye candy, and I got a very easy A in that class.

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