CHRONICLES OF AN ACADEMIC PREDATOR
Before you read this story, there are a few things you should consider:
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It contains graphic descriptions of sex between men. In some cases, these depictions may get kinky, and include borderline S&M.
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It is set in the early 1960s, an era before the Civil Rights Act of 1964 when segregation and discrimination were the norm. African Americans were referred to as Negroes or Coloreds, although the "N" word was offensive then as it is now. I have retained the language of the era because it reminds me how far we have come on race relations.
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Be aware that the effects of inflation have been profound. A good rule of thumb is to consider that $1 in 1962 is probably similar to $10 in 2008. So just add a zero at the end of any number.
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Some authors are good enough to create a mood through their words. I need help, so I'll be posted recommended musical selections throughout the story.
CHAPTER 20
Musical Recommendation: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UxX4aVr2PT4 "Mama Didn't Lie" by Jan Bradley
August 28, 1962
I sat at my desk reading the latest copy of Time, waiting for the departmental meeting. I had 15 minutes until it started, and I didn't want to be early. I didn't want to sit there with all the other professors, pretending to be sad that Bob Jensen was dead. The story that grabbed my attention was a feature on the latest attempt to assassinate Charles De Gaulle. Seems someone blasted his Citroen with machine gun fire, but fortunately he and Mme. De Gaulle escaped without injury. More fallout still from the Algerian mess.
I remember thinking how Jensen had been a massive weight on this department, holding us back, distracting us. I wonder if Algeria and France were the same way. I wonder if, now that France had resigned itself to Algerian independence and finally let go, it would be able to focus on itself and its own needs. And hopefully the same would be true of Algeria. Some relationships just weren't made to last.
I steeled myself for the meeting and headed to the conference room. I walked in right before it started. Good. Didn't want to piss Peterson off. He started the meeting.
"I'm assuming that you've all heard the terrible news. Dr. Jensen shot himself yesterday. The police found his body slumped over in his car in the Bong Recreation Area. That's in Wisconsin, for those of you new to the area." He looked at me as he said the last line. The faces around the table were somber, but there were no tears. This was not an emotional bunch of men, and even if they were, Jensen had only made their lives more difficult. He was universally reviled, and it was rather humorous to see these men pretend to be saddened by this event, knowing that they should be, but pulling the act off badly nonetheless.
"The police are investigating. They haven't indicated if they found a note, or anything else to indicate why he took this action. I've assured them of our full cooperation." We all nodded.
"This does leave a gap in our faculty. I'm meeting with the Dean and the Provost to get approval for a replacement. In the meantime, we'll have to work together to shore up any deficiencies." And with that, Peterson delineated Jensen's departmental obligations. There were a few committee seats to be reassigned, but they were the plum choices so they fell to the senior members. I was already teaching his history lecture class, so there wasn't anything to do there. He had one additional class on the Civil War, an area that Adams was interested in, so he ended up getting stuck with that.
Once the practical matters had been resolved, a silence fell over the meeting. If Jensen would have been loved, liked, or perhaps just not despised, people would have been talking about him and his contributions. No one could even guilt themselves into uttering accolades for him, though, and after a minute Peterson realized that they weren't going to. Not that he was jumping in to start things either. "Well gentlemen, let's get back to work. Dr. Jensen's funeral will be on Thursday, and I think it would be appropriate for us to attend."
Crap. The last thing I wanted to do was go to this bastard's funeral. I'd have to look at his wife and kids, who might even be sad that he was gone. And then I'd feel guilty. I caused this. I'm responsible for his suicide. It's just as if I murdered him myself. I couldn't look his family in the eye. I didn't have that kind of courage. I made a tough decision and followed Dr. Peterson to his office.
"Is there something I can help you with Dr. Crampton?" he asked, annoyed that I was chasing after him.
"Dr. Peterson, I had planned to leave tomorrow morning to visit my parents for the weekend. Before school starts. Do you think I should change my plans so I can attend the funeral?" Please say no; please say no, I chanted to myself.
"Well, you hardly knew Dr. Jensen, and I wouldn't say that you two were the best of friends, so I see no reason why you need to stay for his funeral. You may want to send some flowers though." And with that he turned and walked into his office.
Flowers were cheap enough. In the end I just pitched some money into the pool with the secretaries, who would diligently put my name on the card. Only now I had traded one hell for another. Now I'd have to head back to Claremont. I wondered if I could get away with not going to either the funeral or Ohio, but I figured that would look problematic if the police did start asking questions.
August 29, 1962
Here was the familiar road, the familiar signs, the familiar houses, and the same familiar smell, all part of the overall Claremont experience. I'd just turned on to Skyline and was heading up the hill. There was the spot I'd lost the Pontiac, the ruts in the side of the road were still visible, although they'd put up a guard rail now. That made me chuckle. And there was the spot that I'd pulled over and made out with Stefan, where he'd given me the pinky ring I'd hung onto for only a few days.
The thought of Stefan added a whole new irritant to the equation. On the one hand, I was excited to see my father, Abe, Vella, Sammy, and Jeff. On the other hand, I'd have to see my mother, and deal with that issue, and Tonto, who probably still hated me. And worst of all, I'd have to see Stefan. It was weird how my feelings for him had just died. I wasn't worried that I'd get all emotional and want to fuck him. Well, any more than normal, I mean he is still sexy as hell. I didn't want to be around him because he reminded me of my own weaknesses. Because of him I had let my guard down and exposed my horrible secret to a family member. Because of him, someone besides one of the guys I'd blown, or been blown by, knew I was a fag. And what's worse, it was my fault, not his. He was just the symbol.
All of these unpleasant thoughts had thoroughly darkened my mood, so I had to pull myself together as I drove up the private drive, past Abe and Vella's house, and up to the garage. I hadn't told anyone I was coming, thinking I'd make it a surprise.
I strolled into the kitchen and the first person I saw was Vella. She screamed and ran over to hug me. A hug from Vella is the best cure for a bad mood.
"I didn't know you was coming home! Nobody tells me nuthin'," Vella grumbled.
"No one knows I'm coming back, so actually you're the first," I said with a smile.
I heard the silky smooth voice of my mother as she approached the kitchen. "Vella, did you scream? Is everything alright?" Then she walked into the kitchen, looking elegant in a dark blue suit, perfectly tailored to fit her. "JP!" she exclaimed, and hurried forward to give me her "warm" welcome. She was so soft, so cool, and so elegant; it was hard to stay mad at her.
"What a pleasant surprise! Did you just get in?" She turned to Vella. "Would you please see if you can find Jack?" Vella nodded and strode off to track down my father.
"I had a few days before school started so I thought I'd come home and visit. This will be a busy semester, and I don't know if I'll be able to make it back again before Thanksgiving."
"Well it is fabulous to see you. We were just getting ready to go out. The Hendrickson's are hosting a charity event to refurbish the old post office, but we can cancel." She headed towards the phone.
"Mother, please don't change your plans. I'll be here until Sunday. Besides, I'm tired from the drive. I'd like to make it an early night anyway." She stopped and looked at me dubiously, but it's hard for a mother not to take into consideration the sleeping needs of her son.
My father came bustling in, dressed as nicely as my mother. He practically lunged toward me and gave me a big hug, a bear hug, something so completely out of character it shocked me. "It's good to see you son! What a great surprise!" I felt my eyes get moist at seeing how happy he was to see me, but I quickly regained control of myself. Ever since that accident he and I seemed to be closer, more connected. I'm not sure why, but I liked it.
They bustled off to their event, leaving me and Vella to gossip. "Sammy gone and got hisself a girl," she said with disdain.
"What, she's not a nice girl?" I asked.
"Nice girls don't wear they skirts high like that, and nice girls don't go stickin' out they bosoms like that. She may be a nice girl, but she sho' don't look like one." I laughed.
"The only girl he'd find that you think was dressed appropriately is a nun." She laughed with me. "What about Jeff?"
"He doin' fine. Don't see him with any one girl. He spend most of his time eatin'. Between the two of them they about to devour the whole city. I showed yo' mama the food bill and I thought she was goin' a pass out." Growing boys eat a lot, and those two were both big and energetic.
We sat and chatted for about an hour, until I was truly exhausted. I headed to my room and crashed out on the bed. The next thing I knew there was a familiar hand around my chest, a familiar form against my back, and a familiar, if not entirely pleasant smell in my room. I woke up to find Jeff snuggled up against me. My teddy bear was back. I turned around and gave him a big hug and a big smile. Seeing him, lying here with him, was worth the trip.
"Hope you don't mind me sneaking up on you like this," he said cautiously.
"No, it's the nicest welcome home I've gotten. I missed you." I was worried that sounded totally queer, but he just rolled over on his stomach and let me lay on his chest like I used to. 'Think you can sleep in here with me?" I asked.
"If I'm careful I can."
"Still not worried I'll rape you?" I teased him.
He snaughed. "You're the one who may have to worry about that."
"Promises, promises," I joked (sort of) as I got up and went to the bathroom.
Once in the bathroom I paused and thought about my next move. Or, more to the point, his next move. Was our clandestine fuck that last night in Chicago an aberration, or was it his way of making me his fuck buddy? Should I expect anything tonight? Could I just keep my dick from being hard for the next ten minutes? This last thought was more frustration as I stared down at my raging hard on.
I grabbed some Vaseline and lubed myself up, reminding myself of the old Boy Scout maxim: "Be prepared." Then I cleaned up, brushed my teeth, peed, all the shit you do when getting ready for bed. I opened the door and the room was dark. Should I wear my boxers or not? I stood there, wondering. On the one hand, I'd worn them most of the time we'd slept together. On the other hand, I hadn't worn them that last night, and he didn't seem to mind. I slipped them off and tip-toed over to the bed.
I climbed in and felt him move in behind me, felt his warm, naked skin against mine, felt his softly padded rock hard body pressed against me. My dick was raging hard again. I snuggled back into him like I usually did, which had the effect of moving my ass against his lower abdomen. I felt something kind of crinkly, and I realized that I had encountered his pubic hair. He was naked too.
I reached my hand around and rubbed it up his leg, pulling him closer to me. When I got up to his hips, my guess that he was naked was confirmed. He followed my lead and moved up behind me. I felt his rock hard cock slip between my legs, brushing against my perineum and pushing up against the back of my balls. He froze up.
"Um, is this OK?" He pulled back. "I'm sorry; I don't know what I was thinking. Guess I just got carried away."
I reached back and grabbed his ass, pulling it back in. "It was great. Don't move away." I felt him exhale and move back in, felt his cock return to its place between my legs, his strong arms wrapped around me, his mouth against my neck, nuzzling me behind my ear. He gently thrust his hips in and out, sliding his cock against my balls and taint, driving me crazy. "I missed you so much," he cooed in my ear.
"Me too," I said, although it came out in a moan. I reached down and grabbed the head of his cock and played with it a little bit. He stiffened again, but not like before, because of fear, but this time because he liked it. I guided the head toward my hole, lining it up and pushing back into him.
"You want to feel me inside you baby?" he cooed again. God I loved it when he talked to me like that. "Yes," I said, moaning again. He thrust with his hips and I pushed back into him, and in a flash he was buried inside me. The feeling was almost intoxicating.
"Oh baby, you feel so good. I love being inside you. That's right, show me how much you love having my cock in your ass." He was thrusting into me, and I was thrusting back at him, in a rhythmic manner that was totally synchronized. He reached down and grabbed my cock and started stroking. I knew I wouldn't be able to last that long.
"You feel too good baby. You feel too good. You're so hot, can't wait. Gotta cum. Gotta cum!" And with that he began to shoot inside me. He jacked me quickly in time, and before he was finished I had started. My twitching ass must have milked him dry, because as soon as I was done he collapsed on his back.
My psyche is always the most vulnerable after I cum, and I was already heading down that dark path of recrimination. He had collapsed on his back. Had he done that to get away from me? Now that we had fucked, when we were both obviously awake, did he think I was a queer? Was he disgusted by me? In that unique way that Jeff has of sensing my moods and easing my mind, I felt his hand gently stroke my back, inviting me to re-engage with him. I rolled over and landed on his chest, hugging my big teddy bear as tightly as I could.
We lay there for a while, both saying nothing, just enjoying the contact and the bond. He finally broke the silence. "So you think I'm queer?" I looked up at him and moved my hand over his cheek, feeling the moistness from his tears. My heart went out to him.
"Well, fucking another guy is definitely a queer act, but I don't know if that makes you queer."
"Huh? What's the difference?" At least by confusing him I'd stopped him from being so upset.
"I think there are five types of guys. There are guys who are straight, that only like women and guys who are fags that only like men. Then there are guys who genuinely like both, and can go either way. This is just my opinion, mind you, but it's what I think." I felt him nod.
"Then there are guys who are horny and will fuck anything, but it's just a hole to stick their dick in. What it's attached to really doesn't matter. And finally, there are guys who are straight that fall in love with other guys, and they end up doing queer things even though they really aren't." I realized that I was just sprouting out shit, matching these theorems to try and hit whatever he was feeling on the head.
He was silent for a bit, and then he asked "What are you?"
"You tell me and I'll tell you," I chided, but when I didn't get a snaugh I figured that he wasn't in a joking mood. "Sorry. I'm queer. I've known it for a long time. Girls just don't do it for me. I mean, I like them, I like dancing with them, hanging out with them, but when it comes to fucking them, well, I would rather have another guy."
"Have you ever fucked a girl?" he asked me. Wow. That was a zinger, right through my shields, right into my most personal spaces. "Once," I answered. Why did I trust him so much? Why did I open up to this guy like no other, not even Andre?
"Did you like it?" Grrrr.
"It was OK. It felt good, girls are soft, and boobs are cool, but I can't see myself doing it on a regular or extended basis." In other words, I couldn't handle marriage.
"I don't know if I'm queer or not." He said.
"Have you ever fucked a girl?" I asked.
"Yeah, a couple of times. It was fun. I'd do it again." He snaughed.
"When you jack off, what do you think about?" I asked. He really paused at that.
"You," he said.
"Every time?" I asked
"Pretty much." Wow. That was unbelievable. I hugged him tighter still. This guy really must think I'm hot. I was getting horny again.
"So what do you imagine when you think about me?" I asked, with a coquettish lilt to my voice.
"I'll show you," he said, as he rolled me off of him, rolled over on top of me, and for the very first time, he actually kissed me. Not some peremptory friendly thing, but a real, tongue twisting open mouth kiss. And it was the best, the absolute best I'd ever had. Better than Peter, better than Scott, better even than Andre (although thinking about him caused me a pang of guilt).
His strong body was on top of me, undulating against me, rubbing our cocks together, both still slick from our first encounter. I wrapped my legs around him to hold him to me tightly, and I ran my hands down his strong back, feeling his muscles straining as he did most of the work.
Now would be the time where, in the past, I would move this kind of activity to the next level. I'd either try to turn it into a fuck, or a blow job. This time I didn't want to. This time, the contact, that bond, the kiss was enough to send me over the edge. What's more, our bodies were moving so closely in tune together, so in sync, that we shot at almost the same time. It was physically powerful, but the emotional connection was unbelievable. It would be so easy to fall in love with this guy.
He collapsed on top of me, his head on my chest, my hand gently stroking his dirty blond hair, as he drifted off to sleep. I looked down at his handsome face, so peaceful, so strong, and followed him into dreamland.
August 30, 1962
Jeff was already gone when I woke up, but I didn't let it worry me. I knew he had to be careful, and being gone all night was not the way to be discreet. Still, I missed his company. I got up, got ready and meandered into the kitchen to scrounge up some food. There was a note from my mother, telling me that they'd gone out but I should meet them at the club for lunch. Last time I went there I got a condo, I chuckled to myself. Wonder what I'd get this time.
When in town it was customary for me to go visit my relatives, and Tonto was always first. I decided to bite the bullet and maintain the routine, plus I factored into the equation Stefan's desire to sleep in. Maybe I'd be in and out of there before he was awake.
I drove up to the monstrosity and strode into the kitchen. Tonto was there, as usual, and seemed genuinely happy to see me.
"JP! What a nice surprise! How long have you been in town?" I told her that I'd gotten in last night, and I think it made her happy that I still came to see her first despite our problems last time.
"I'm glad you came to see me," she said. "I was worried that that whole brouhaha last time would come between us." That was odd. She made it sound like it was no big deal. It certainly was before.
"I'm really sorry about that Tonto. But you know I love you, even if you're really pissed at me." She chuckled.
"Well JP, the past is the past. Let's just move on."
"Have you heard from Billy lately," I asked, deftly changing the subject.
"Not lately. Last time we spoke he seemed distracted. I was a little worried about him, but I didn't want to pry."
"Maybe you should take a quick trip out to see him," I offered nervously. I knew that he was in the throes of this thing with Janice and the new baby, and, as independent as Billy was, he'd need his mother's help with this one.
"Why," she looked at me suspiciously, "Is there something I should know?"
"I'm not going to betray a confidence Tonto, not even to you. Billy is just fine, but I think he might benefit from a visit from you." She wasn't happy about that.
"Is this about the latest baby, the one on the way?" I'd walked into a snake pit. I said nothing.
"Your silence tells me what I need to know." She held up her hand. "Calm down JP, I won't betray your confidence; you should know me better than that. But he is my son. Now that I guessed, can you tell me, please, what the hell is going on?" Now what? I was busted. I was going to buy back her love by selling one of my best friends down the river, betraying his confidence.
"Tonto, Billy talked to me about it. If I tell you, I will break his trust. If he finds out, it could destroy, or at least damage our friendship. Is that what you're asking me to do?" She wasn't moved by my soliloquy on honor.
"JP, he's my son, and if there's something going on I need to know. You have my word that I won't reveal anything you tell me, OK?" I was doomed.
"Billy's worried that it's not his baby. He was at sea until February. Janice told him she was pregnant shortly after he got back and they, uh, reunited. The doctor suggested that she was much farther along." She looked at me with anger and sadness in her eyes.
"When we were in New York, I told him that he should give her the benefit of the doubt, and that time would tell. I mean, if she has the baby in September or October and it's full term, well that could be a problem." Tonto just nodded.
"Thanks for telling me," she finally said. "I'll protect your confidence. I should get out there and see him anyway. It's been too long. And I'll try not to call my daughter-in-law a slut, although that may take some restraint." I laughed at that.
"Restraint isn't one of your strong suits Tonto." She laughed with me. I saw some motion in the doorway and looked up to see Stefan walking into the room.
"Hello Stefan," I said, greeting him in French and giving him the appropriate kiss on the cheeks in the continental fashion. He was incredibly uncomfortable, and the overall tension in the room had risen considerably. "How are your English lessons coming along?"
He blushed severely and the tension more than doubled. "His English has gotten so good that we decided he could finish learning all on his own," Tonto said. I knew that was a lie, and Stefan's expression showed it. I let the issue drop.
"Well, I have to meet my parents for lunch," I said as I stood to leave. "Let me know how things go with Billy, will you please?" Tonto nodded and hugged me.
Stefan approached me and gave me a hug as well, but his eyes were pleading and said so much more. They said he was sorry that he blew it with our relationship, and they said he missed me. That was too bad for him, because the die was cast, the cord was cut, and we were over. Tonto couldn't possibly have missed how brief and perfunctory our interaction was; hopefully that would put her at peace as regards my intentions toward her grandson.
The rest of the day passed at a leisurely pace. Lunch with my parents, shopping with my mother, a nice dinner at our house, more leisure time with my parents, and then, finally bedtime.
Jeff came into my room about half an hour after I "retired." I was already in bed, wearing nothing, hard as a rock, anticipating his arrival. He stripped off his clothes and climbed in beside me, draping his body over mine and treating me to more of his oral expertise. I pushed him over on his back and decided to show him mine.
I moved my mouth down to his neck, nibbling gently, then to his nipples, sucking on each. He had small nipples, small and sexy. Then I moved down his smooth chest, down his smooth abdomen, followed his small treasure trail, and found his dick poking up, begging me for attention. I took him gently in my mouth, using all my talents, swirling my tongue around his head, moving up and down his shaft, increasing my speed, until I was rewarded by his orgasm.
I looked up at him, and he was smiling ear to ear. "That was amazing. Damn." I smiled back and swallowed loudly, which made him laugh. I moved back up to his chest and snuggled up to him. We just lay there silently, enjoying each other. I'd never been with someone like this before, someone that I could just be around and not have to talk. With anyone else, it would become uncomfortable, but with Jeff, silence was just fine.
He stroked my back gently, then moved his hand lower and stroked my ass cheeks. I hadn't shot before so I was horny as hell. He pushed me over onto my back and mimicked the same moves I had made on him. I enjoyed it but didn't really think about it until he engulfed my cock with his own mouth. I guess I was so used to Andre, who would fuck me, and jack me off, but never seemed interested in sucking me. Jeff was obviously new at this, because his teeth hit me a few times, but it didn't take him long to develop a rhythm.
I was enjoying his work, thinking that I so wanted him to fuck me again, when I felt him gently insert his finger in my ass. He moved it around till he got the reaction he wanted, the reaction that said he hit my spot. He continued to stimulate my prostate with his finger, while he sucked my dick with his increasing skill. That was some amazing stimulation, and it didn't take me long to shoot.
"I'm gonna cum!" I whispered loudly. I figured he'd be grossed out by cum, but he clamped down on my cock and swallowed every last drop. I looked at him, stunned and satisfied, wondering at what a fun lover he was turning out to be.
September 2, 1962
Tears flowed from my eyes yet again as I drove out of Claremont and headed to the freeway that would take me back to Chicago. How ironic that Jensen's death would drive me back home and bring me a reconciliation with my home town. I no longer dreaded it, and in fact, with Jeff, there was an additional motive to visit.
Our last night together had been intense. I lost track of how many times we had sex, and how wonderful it was to lay there with him in between those athletic trysts. He calmed me, he stabilized me, and he satisfied me. He extracted two promises from me. First, he made me promise to come back to Claremont for the homecoming game on October 13th. Next, he made me promise to come back again for their last game of the season on November 10th, and to stay over for his birthday on the 12th.
Published First at : http://groups.yahoo.com/group/arbourtales/