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 32
Musical Recommendation: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y7jb2abzjE4 "The Night Has a Thousand Eyes" by Bobby Vee
January 24, 1963
I found Jason in the kitchen, cooking. "Hungry?" I asked.
"Of course," he said with a smile. "Worked up an appetite. I'm making some spaghetti. Want some?"
"Sure," I said, and he added some pasta for me. "Add some for Ronnie too. He looks like he can eat."
"You're gonna feed him?" Jason asked.
"Yeah. I think he learned his lesson." Jason looked at me like I was a total wimp.
"If you say so."
"Look, the point of torturing him wasn't to get off on it, even though that's a side benefit." I leered at him. "I wanted to take him down a notch or two so he'd be civil, and we'd end up with a decent student."
He looked at me skeptically. For him, it was about inflicting pain and enjoying it. I reminded myself that Jason had his own demons to evict.
When the food was ready I went and roused Ronnie. "Get up," I said.
He looked at me nervously, wondering what new evil torture I had planned for him. I tossed him a robe to put on.
"You can relax. No one is going to hurt you. We made some spaghetti and thought you might want some." For the first time I saw him smile. Genuinely smile. I can't say that it made him any more attractive, but it was nice to see anyway. God, I was such a wuss.
"Cool," he said, and followed me to the kitchen. Jason just glared at him, but left him alone. It was funny that this big hulking guy was more or less hiding behind me for protection.
We ate silently. After we were done Ronnie looked at Jason and said "Thanks man. That was really good." Then he got up and headed to the sink and started to do the dishes. I looked at Jason and he rolled his eyes, not in disgust, but because he was relenting. He wanted to be pissed at Boyd, to hate him, to make him a target of abuse, but now that the guy was being nice to him, it was hard even for him to do.
We went into the living room and kicked back to watch television. Ronnie liked the color TV. He didn't really say much, just hung out with us. Jason finally got up and headed to his room. He was antsy. I was tired. At 11PM I stood up.
"I'm tired. I'm going to bed." Ronnie looked at me with a confused expression on his face. Now that we'd totally blasted him into submission, he seemed completely helpless. "You can go home if you want, or you can stay here with me. You're safe here now."
"Well it is kind of late, and it's cold out. You sure you don't mind? I could sleep on the couch."
I held out my hand. "Come on." I led him to the bedroom and he self-consciously shed the robe, standing there naked. He slid into the bed and rolled over onto his side, facing away from me.
I climbed into bed and lay on my back, feeling guilty. I didn't really find Ronnie all that attractive. He was a Bubba from Mississippi, and so round. But I'd hurt him, and maybe he deserved it. Yeah he was an asshole, but what must his home life have been like? How did he get from there, being cornholed and ridiculed by his brothers, to one of the country's top universities? There must be more to this guy than I'd seen. I couldn't help myself. I rolled over and spooned up behind him.
He thrust his ass back into me. "If you wanna go again, I'm ready," he said. I gently stroked his back, avoiding the welts from the belt. "You don't wanna fuck me?" he asked.
"Not really," I said, and instead of relief, he seemed dejected. I rolled him over on his back. He cringed when he hit the sheets. He was still sore from getting whipped. I noticed that he was hard again. He was disappointed because he wanted me to fuck him. "I had a different idea."
I grabbed the Vaseline and lubed his pole, then rolled over and faced away from him. "It's your turn to fuck me." He moved up behind me quickly, enthusiastically, and swiftly entered me. He didn't spend time on prep, or foreplay, he just went for it. He started pumping and I adjusted myself so he hit my spot. I was intrigued by how physical he was, intrigued and excited, but it was curious how there was no emotion in it at all. It was like he was masturbating by fucking me. All of these thoughts didn't stop either one of us from cumming, though. After we were done, he rolled back over on his side away from me.
"Ronnie," I said. He reluctantly turned over and faced me. I pulled him to me, laid his head on my chest, and stroked his hair like I'd stroked Jeff. But he didn't seem comfortable with that. He didn't want affection, he didn't want kindness. "You OK?"
He rolled away from me and onto his side, facing me. "I guess. It was a pretty tough night. You guys were real assholes. But I guess I deserved it."
"I get the feeling, though, that you kind of enjoyed it." If I would have punched him in the stomach, I would have gotten a better reaction.
"You think having two guys torture me, shave me, and then fuck me was fun for me?"
"Yeah, I think in a way it was," I countered, not willing to admit that I had hurt him as bad as I probably had.
"Maybe I should get going," he said, getting ready to leave.
"Stop. You're not going anywhere. You don't want to talk about it that's fine. I was trying to be nice, to reach out to you, but hey, it's easier for me to just to roll over and go to sleep."
"That's bullshit. You're feeling guilty and you were hoping that if I liked it you wouldn't have to worry about hurting me."
"Actually Ronnie, I don't feel guilty at all. You were at total jerk, offensive, and you got caught blatantly cheating. As far as I'm concerned, my conscious is clear." OK, maybe I wasn't being completely honest, but he wasn't astute enough to catch me. "But I think that getting fucked by me and Jason sparked some bad memories for you, and I do feel bad about that."
"Whatever," he said.
"I also think that this angry, asshole persona that you adopt, just like you're doing now, is incredibly ugly. I can't think of anything more unattractive, and I can't see how it's going to help you here at Northwestern. It also pisses me off, and if I see it again, you're going to end up cuffed in the bathroom with a couple of dicks up your ass again."
"I'm done. I did what you asked."
"You're done when I say you're done. Now roll over."
"Why?"
"Because I'm gonna fuck you again. Roll over. Now!" He grudgingly rolled over and I lubed up my hard cock and slammed it inside of him. I fucked him hard, just like Jason had done, putting all of my anger and annoyance with him into it. I could give a shit whether he enjoyed it or not. After I came and I pulled out, I noticed that there was cum on my window. He had shot across the room.
It dawned on me that maybe he liked this kind of rough sex. Maybe that's what got him off. By being kind, by trying to help him, all I'd done is make him want to piss me off so I'd fuck him. I slapped his ass hard, making him yelp.
"In the future, I don't want to see the angry jackass I've seen a few minutes ago. Got it." I saw him nod. I rolled over and went to sleep.
January 25, 1963
I woke up pissed at Ronnie. That and I had my morning hard on. I moved up behind him and, even though he was still sleeping, jammed my dick up his ass. "What the...uh...?" he asked groggily. I ignored him and just drove into him until I climaxed. Then I callously withdrew, got up, and took a shower. When I got out he was still in bed.
"I want you out of here in 20 minutes, got it?" I said. He looked at me, sort of shocked. I'd given him a chance, and he was a dick. So fuck him. He went into the bathroom for a few minutes, came out, got his clothes on, and left in less than ten minutes.
I stalked angrily into the kitchen and glared at Jason. He just looked at me curiously. He seemed to have no compunctions about what had happened. He seemed just fine. That pissed me off even more.
I didn't like the way I felt. I felt evil. Well, that didn't really bother me. But I felt dirty, and that did. Worst of all, I was angry. Fucking pissed. And that really made me even madder. It started to dawn on me that anger was as dangerous as love when it came to emotions. It made me do things I didn't really want to do. Made me lose control.
Jason stared at me, watching me think this through, and it was as if lightning bolts flew into my brain. I had fallen far, so very far, from my old ways. Here I was, stomping around my own house like a teenager, throwing a tantrum, and letting people, Jason in this case, see my internal emotions. I opened the fridge, grabbed the milk, and when I turned around to face Jason I had re-asserted my calm, cool veneer. The surprise on his face was my first truly pleasurable experience of the day.
"I've got to get to campus early today. Think you can clean up the mess for me?"
Jason just nodded. "Sure."
"Thanks," I said, grabbed some coffee, and headed out.
The office was empty when I got there, which was fine with me. I forgot about my issues at home and focused on my paper. I worked with fervor, and was almost done with it when I heard a knock at my door.
"Come in," I said. Tom Hartford came in cautiously, looking nervous.
"You still have time for lunch?" he said.
I looked up at him, temporarily bewildered. Then I glanced at the clock on the wall. Noon. Damn, I'd been completely engrossed. "Sure," I said, got up and grabbed my jacket.
We went to a little Italian place in Evanston. I hadn't heard of the place, and it turned out to be really good. Tom was as cute and charming as always, but I was sedate after last night so I wasn't really into flirting. The interesting thing is that he seemed to sense this and didn't bother to try to touch my foot with his, or do anything else overt.
"So what happened to you yesterday? You weren't in class." He had to be expecting this question, but he still didn't seem ready.
"I was feeling pretty crappy. I tried to get to school but I just couldn't." That was a pretty lame excuse, and not believable, but I let it pass.
"Just don't miss too many days. I base my tests on class lectures." I said, not telling him anything I didn't already tell all my other students.
"I won't," he responded, with his golden smile.
Lunch was great, and I enjoyed his company. He helped me relax from my trying night, and from my absorption in my paper. He paid as he promised, so on the way out I put my arm on his shoulders in a friendly gesture. He flinched slightly, and then relaxed into me like any normal (straight guy) would.
"Thanks for lunch Tom. That was a great! Not only did I have a great meal, I learned about a new restaurant."
"You're welcome," he beamed.
"You want to come over and study?" I asked.
"If you don't mind, I'll take a rain check. I have some things to do at home."
"No problem," I said, and meant it. It was nice to be around this young, handsome man who clearly liked me and flirted enough to suggest that maybe there was something more. But I was so close to finishing my paper, and I was so burned out that I was glad he passed.
I dropped him off at his apartment and then headed home. Jason wasn't there so I had the place to myself. I liked having Jason around, he was a great roommate and he was a good cook. But I enjoyed these times when I could be alone in my house, curl up on the couch, and just read, write, or watch television and feel completely in control of my environment.
Jason came home later, around 6pm, and Ronnie Boyd followed him like a lost puppy dog. "Go to your room," Jason said to him as they came in, and Ronnie eyed me warily and headed to Jason's room.
Jason looked at me with a smile. "Ronnie was bad again today and needs to be punished. Wanna help?"
"I'll pass," I said. He shrugged his shoulders and followed Ronnie. A few minutes later I heard some screams from his room, but after I only heard muffled noises. I was becoming disgusted by the whole thing, but I still found myself hard as a rock thinking about Jason in there stabbing Ronnie's ass with that huge javelin of his.
February 14, 1963
I sat in my bed trying to decide if I even wanted to get up today. Yesterday had been my climax, so to speak, as I'd finally finished my paper and sent it off for peer review. Of course, before I'd done that I'd gotten Peterson and Broughton to look at it. They'd suggested a few changes, which I made, and now it was off, entrusted to the mail. I was most interested to hear what Professor Gireaux had to say, so much so that I'd written a special copy out in French for him.
Ronnie seemed to come over once or twice a week and Jason would do whatever Jason did to him. I didn't pay attention or get involved. For me it was a blotch on my psyche, something I regretted. I still didn't like Ronnie, and I found that I was becoming more and more irritated with Jason for keeping the "torture" sessions up. At the same time, I chided myself, a champion of the idea that people should be free to do whatever they wanted in private, and the knowledge that for me to feel otherwise would be the ultimate in hypocrisy.
So now I found myself in the unfortunate position of having nothing particularly urgent to do. Yet on a day I should be enjoying a denouement after having finished the paper, sort of like post-orgasmic bliss, I was instead slapped in the face by the fact that it was Valentine's Day, and the guy I loved was some 400 miles away. And that was a dangerous road to go down, but I idiotically went there, speculating on what he might or might not be doing today.
Jeff was probably embroiled in the silly, bullshit high school rituals of Valentine's Day, or VD as we'd called it then. He was probably flitting around campus with Carol, as she coquettishly flirted with him, pressing her huge boobs against him, and teasing him until even a gay boy would be hard as a rock. And she'd get him something stupid, like a leather bracelet, to prove her undying love, and he'd have to do the same. Then they'd go out for a romantic little dinner tonight, and then they'd go park somewhere, probably on Skyline, and she'd let him get in her pants, maybe even fuck her. Maybe. The thought of him with her, going through those mating rituals, was agony, and I found that I didn't feel mad at him at all, but I as fast growing to hate her.
I lay back down on the bed, ready to sink into a depression coma for the day, when I realized that I hadn't bothered to get him anything, not even a card, for VD. Part of me said that I should be above that, but then I thought about it, and how much he would appreciate getting something from me. Even if he'd fallen out of love with me and in love with Carol, he'd still care about me. That roused me, and I got up, took a shower, and headed downtown to do some shopping.
It was still fucking cold in Chicago. It would probably be cold until April, maybe May. We'd be lucky if we were able to see our sidewalks by then. But I was getting used to it, or at least to the routine of it. I went to that men's store where I'd taken Jason and got some things for Jeff, and a few for Jason too. For some reason, when I was shopping, I felt better and lost my irritation with Jason.
Then I headed to Marshal Fields, ready to do more damage to my very own BankAmericard. I strolled through the men's department and then, much to my surprise, I spotted Tom Hartford working in the Men's Shoe Department. I'm not sure why it surprised me. Most students had jobs. But he had presented a persona, or perhaps it was more accurate to say that I had assumed a persona of him, as a scion of Connecticut aristocrats. And someone from that background would not be shoehorning penny loafers onto the smelly feet of other men.
I was torn between going over and saying hello and just walking away. I finally decided to say hello. To do otherwise would have seemed to say that there was something wrong with working at a department store, and that was simply ridiculous.
"Hi Tom," I said cheerfully, and he turned to me with a mortified look. Oops. Maybe saying hello was the wrong decision. "I didn't know you worked here. Great place!"
"Uh, hello Professor Crampton. Yeah, I just work here part time. My parents don't like it, but it gives me some extra spending money." He was nervous. And lying.
"Nothing wrong with that. Plus you probably get some great store discounts! No wonder you always look so good." Maybe that last sentence was pushing it, but his grin seemed to suggest that it wasn't.
"Very true. Well, I better get back to work." He shook my hand and turned to help an impatient elderly man who seemed to think he needed a pair of sandals in February.
I got home around 2PM and it took me two trips to carry all the shit I bought up the stairs. I started sorting things out into stacks: The stuff for me, the stuff for Jason, and the stuff for Jeff. I put my stuff away, I put Jason's things on his bed, and I sat down and wrapped Jeff's presents. It dawned on me that not only was I going to have to wrap all this stuff; I was going to have to ship it. My impulsive decision was turning into a lot of work.
Musical Recommendation: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EXT_SFZ-UME "I Will Follow Him" by Little Peggy March
I was going to watch television but the only thing on was soap operas and watching them would be just too maudlin. So I just curled up on the couch with a book, heading into a new world for my next research project. Somewhere along the way I had dozed off, and I felt a hand shaking me, trying to wake me up. I opened my eyes and there, staring at me was Jeff. I blinked a few times. Was I dreaming? He saw my gesture and laughed.
I was off the couch and on top of him so fast I knocked him down. Our lips met, our bodies meshed, and it took amazing restraint to remember that I was in the living room and it probably wasn't a good idea to rip off his clothes right here and now.
"Does this mean you're happy to see me?" he asked.
I was going to throw some smart-ass comment at him, but I just couldn't. "Yes! Yes! Yes! I am very happy to see you!" Why did I turn into such a girl when I was around him? Maybe because he was such a man, I thought, and smiled inwardly.
"So what brings you to Chicago big guy?" I asked.
"I wanted to be with the person I love on Valentine's Day," he said, and that was way too corny.
"Oh, did you bring Carol with you?" I joked. He cringed for a minute, and I thought I'd pushed it too far, but then he laughed.
"No, she's home and really pissed off. Besides, I don't love her. I thought about hanging out with Stefan, but he was busy, so I picked you instead." I punched him and laughed. The fact that we could laugh about these things, or I guess I should say people, showed how comfortable we both were.
I kissed him on the lips. "Come on, I want to spend some time alone," I said. We headed to the bedroom and I almost ripped off his clothes. I was impressed with how well he kept up his physique, and I took a chance to admire it as I ran my mouth over his nipples and down his chest and abdomen to his straining cock. I took him in my mouth and showed him how years of practice had made me one great cocksucker. He tried to stop me, but I was relentless.
I lubed my finger and gently pressed it into his ass. We were too well-tuned to each other for him to worry. He opened up willingly to let me in. Then, while hitting his spot with my finger and simultaneously sucking him like a siphon, I drained his balls. He lay there, panting and satisfied.
"Wow. So all I have to do is drive 400 miles and I'll get the best blow job ever?" he teased.
"Yep. Anytime you visit, that's you're reward." I snuggled up to him, relishing the feel of having him close. The joy of the contact and the intimacy made me forget my own raging hard on. This was more important.
"So tell me what made you drive all this way? You're going to miss school and get in trouble."
He looked at me with a playful grimace. "Calm down mom. I checked my classes and nothing earth-shattering is going on. Besides, I already got a scholarship offer."
"You did!?! Where?"
"Ohio State. They want me." I hid my disappointment. "But I still have some time to see if anyone else wants me too."
"I want you," I said.
"I kind of figured that out," he said and smiled at me. "I just missed you a lot, really a lot, and I decided that I didn't want to deal with all the fake VD bullshit with Carol. I mean, we do okay, we go out with other couples and stuff, but the romance of VD, well, it's not there and I think she knows it. I'm just not that good at faking it."
"Well, I was here feeling sorry for myself, all alone, pining away for you and here you show up and rescue me like a Knight on a white horse." He kissed me again, but instead of a quick kiss, it lengthened, as did he, and in no time at all he was inside of me. It was glorious, it was heaven. I threw all my caution to the wind. I let all of my defenses down. I loved this guy, loved him with all my heart. There was no way I could fake it, no way I could pretend otherwise.
We lay there again, only this time we had cum, mostly mine, all over us. He had collapsed on my chest and I stroked his hair and his back. "I love you Jeff Hayes. I've tried to keep up my walls, to protect myself, but I can't. I just can't. I love you completely."
He smiled up at me and kissed me gently. "I love you too JP."
"Just know," I said, looking into his eyes, "that you have the ability to make me very happy, but you also have the ability to hurt me, and hurt me very badly."
He kissed me again. "I won't hurt you babe. I am going to work on the happy part though." Then we made love again, slower and with more passion, and I knew then that I was hooked, and that my emotional destiny was once again in someone else's hands.
We got up and took a shower together and sauntered out to the living room in our robes.
"I'm hungry," Jeff said.
"So what's new?" I said with a chuckle.
"Hey, I've been burning through some serious calories. I gotta go down and get my stuff so I can change and we can go out to dinner. I'm buying."
"Oh yeah? What did you do, rob a bank?" I asked coyly.
"Nope. But I've been saving my money for a special occasion." I rolled my eyes. Cornball.
"I've got a better idea. Why don't you just go naked?"
"Too cold," he said.
"Well, maybe I can help you out." I said, and dragged all the packages I'd gotten over to him.
"What's this?" he asked.
"I went shopping today to get some presents for the guy I love on Valentine's Day."
"Oh yeah? Well these better fit or you're busted," he responded. Fortunately everything fit. I have great taste in clothes, if I do say so myself, and I'd bought him this blue suit that set off his eyes perfectly. We headed down to the steakhouse I'd taken Jason to, and a couple of bucks to the host kept us from having to wait for a table even on that busy night. I personally think it was Jeff's drop-dead gorgeous appearance that convinced him. It would have convinced me.
"So are you going to Ohio State?" I asked.
"Well if that's the only place that accepts me, I will." he said.
"You should be able to get in anywhere." I said.
"You mean Northwestern?" he asked.
"Yeah. That's what I mean. Is is so wrong to want you around?"
"No," he said obligingly, "but I want to play football."
"Well," I said, "I don't want you to make your decision based on money. That's something you don't have to worry about."
"I don't want to be a kept man," he said defiantly.
"That's a bunch of bullshit. If we're a couple, then we build a life together. You pick some short scrawny guy when you could probably have your pick of anyone, you should at least take advantage of the fact that he's rich."
"You're not short and scrawny. You're beautiful. Handsome. Besides, I thought you said your parents cut you off, took your card and everything."
I couldn't tell him everything, but I had to tell him something. "I have my own money. I don't need theirs."
"Yeah, I know you work, but do you make enough as a professor to pay the bills and my tuition payments?" He asked.
"Probably, although throwing in your food will certainly be a challenge," I joked. "Seriously, I've got my own money, not just my salary. A lot of it, as a matter of fact."
That made him pause. "I don't want you to think I'm with you because you're rich." he said.
"Well, you drove 400 miles to see me today and you didn't really know for sure that I was rich until right now, so I think you've covered your ass on that one." He smiled back at me.
We sat there and enjoyed our dinner, pausing to gaze into each other's eyes like young lovebirds. I thought about what a great guy he was for the zillionth time. If it were anyone else, I'd have gotten the third degree about my money. Shit, I probably would have had to produce a balance sheet for Andre. But not Jeff. He trusted me. What a great feeling.
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