The Halls of Academe

THE HALLS OF ACADEME, PART TWO by K. Nitsua. Copyright 2004 by the author.

After that abortive trip to the lake the semester went on. I was glad that things were getting busy the way they always did toward the holidays, as it left me little time to think about Drew and whatever relationship we had, which wasn't much. When I saw him in the halls of our building he was pleasant, but remote. I couldn't blame him. Hadn't I told him to back off? Drew, it seemed, had taken me at my word.

He stopped coming by to my office to chat, even after class hours. If we happened both to be staying late he'd say hello, go into his office and shut the door. Somehow our workouts at the pool no longer coincided either.

Perversely, I missed him. I swallowed my hurt pride when he gave me the brushoff, and tried to convince myself it was for the best.

People who knew us both began to notice something was amiss. One day during my office hours I heard a knock. A female voice said, "Got a minute?"

I looked up, disappointed it wasn't Drew. "Hello, Marce. What's up?"

Marcia Hannon was our specialist in European History. There had never been any doubt about her getting tenure, which had happened a couple of years back. She was pushing forty but, with her petite figure and lively sense of humor, seemed younger. The students loved her, despite her reputation for giving some of the hardest essay exams on campus.

Now she approached me and sat in a nearby chair. "Just wondered, Glenn--did you turn in the check requisition for our Ambrose series speaker?"

I clapped my hand to my forehead. "Damn, that totally slipped my mind. Have I really screwed up this time?"

Marcia was unperturbed. "Not really. If you get it in by the end of the day today the business office can have it ready when Dr. Gill gets here. Otherwise, we'll have to tell him we'll mail his honorarium. That might be a little embarrassing, considering how small it is."

"For sure. Thanks for the reminder. Ever thought of being chair?" I teased her. She rolled her eyes.

"Please. Don't even joke about that. Although," she added, peering at me, "You do look like you could use a sabbatical."

"That bad, huh?" I kept my tone light. I didn't want to get into why I might be so stressed. Marcia leaned forward and lowered her voice.

"Golden Ohlen isn't giving you grief, is he?"

I was taken by surprise. "What? No, he's fine. What about you?"

Marcia shrugged. "He and I are cool. Of course, we're in different fields so he doesn't see me as competition. Some of the other faculty aren't so keen about him, though. I heard a certain person who shall remain nameless trashing him in the Commons at lunch the other day."

"He wasn't an English professor with the initials E.L., by any chance?" She smirked.

"I might have known." Despite our recent break I felt compelled to defend Drew. "You know what his problem is. Jealousy, plain and simple. Elden Lewis wishes he could have gotten an article into a top-tier journal when he was a grad student. Have a book manuscript under review by Stanford University Press."

"I grant you all of that. Still, Drew brings some of it on himself, you know. If I had all those credentials--and looked like Brad Pitt to boot--I'd be a bit more gracious to those less fortunate than me."

I smiled. "Everyone knows you are graciousness personified, Marcia."

She laughed. "Flattery will get you nowhere. I am not taking the department chair from you." She rose to go. "Good luck, Glenn. I don't envy you having to write Drew's first-year evaluation."

"What am I going to give him besides an unqualified rave? Everyone's still in shock that he actually came here."

She raised her eyebrows. "Well, I shouldn't spread rumors, but from what I've overheard some of my students saying, he's not knocking `em dead in his classes this semester. He might need your help."

I tried to keep my voice calm and detached. "Assuming he'd accept any from me."

She gave me a curious look. I wondered whether she knew more about us than she was letting on. "Yes, there is that. Take care, Glenn."

I sat and thought about what Marcia had said. So it wasn't all smooth sailing for Drew Ohlen at Steelman College. Brilliant scholars weren't always great teachers. In fact, they could be downright lousy. If Drew really was having a lot of trouble relating to the students here, it was my duty as his chair and mentor to help him.

The hard fact was, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I remembered the scorn in his eyes at my stupid remark about compromising my objectivity. In that one moment I'd lost his respect. I could imagine what his reaction would be if I offered my help. My face and ears burned at the thought.

I'd rejected Drew to keep our professional relationship intact. Now I didn't even have that cold comfort.

"Coward," I said to the empty air. No one contradicted me.

"Glenn?"

I wheeled around, startled. I was standing in the men's locker room of the Steelman College natatorium. It was the third of January, the week before classes would start for spring semester.

I had gone that afternoon to start working off the extra pounds that always managed to climb on me and hitch a ride during the holidays. The campus was almost deserted and I hadn't expected to see anyone at the pool, other than the student lifeguard trying to make a few extra dollars over the break.

"Drew...how are you?"

My heart was thudding, and not only from surprise. I hadn't seen Drew Ohlen for several weeks, since he had been back in L.A. over the break. He was dressed in workout clothes, shorts, singlet and new shoes, all of which set off a glowing California tan. Of course he hadn't gained an ounce. He looked great.

Just my luck that he'd caught me at this moment. I'd stripped down to nothing and just put on the swimmer jock I always wore under my suit to hold me in place. Even though he had already seen me naked I blushed, acutely aware of my stomach above the waistband. Damn, I had to lose that weight. I bent and grabbed my trunks.

Drew didn't seem to notice my embarrassment.

"Fine. Listen, can I come talk to you before school starts?"

This was a change. "Sure. What's up?"

He sighed, put his hands on his hips and looked at the floor. "I need some help."

"What's wrong?" Now I was really concerned.

He smiled. "Didn't mean to scare you. I need to talk to you about my fall course evals. Have you looked at them yet?"

"To be honest, no." I was supposed to look at the course evaluations for junior faculty in my department after each semester was over, but had put that task off.

"Well, just so you'll know. They're terrible. I knew there were some problems but I didn't think they'd be this bad. I'm really worried. If the Provost sees them he'll fire me on the spot."

"He wouldn't do that." I'd seen junior faculty in this state before. It was always a shock to read the things some students would say when they knew they would be anonymous. They could be vicious.

"How about tomorrow at one, Drew? Bring your copies and we'll go over them and figure out what we can do. Trust me, it's not as bad as you think. We can turn this around."

Drew sighed again. "If you say so. Thanks, Glenn. I'll see you tomorrow."

He had sought me out for the first time in many weeks. I should have been overjoyed, but I wasn't. I was determined to stick to business, help Drew become the good teacher I knew he could be. That was all.

But after several weeks of not thinking of him, I knew the way I'd seen him today, tanned and fit, muscular shoulders bare, chest hair peeking out of the low collar of his singlet--that image was going to haunt me tonight as I tried to sleep.

I stood in my trunks, glad that the jock had held my goods in place. The pouch was stretched full. If I hadn't been wearing it things could have gotten embarrassing.

The next day we sat in my office and paged through the copies he had brought me of his evaluations.

I tried not to let Drew see my reaction, but I was concerned. He hadn't been exaggerating. This wasn't a case of one or two disgruntled students. The same negative comments appeared over and over again. Unless everyone in a class had conspired to "get" Drew--not likely--the fact that so many students had said the same things meant they just might be true.

"Well," I finally said, "We're going to have to figure out why they think you're not concerned about them. Also why they score you so low on being open to diverse views."

Drew sighed, a bit impatient. "Glenn, what am I supposed to do? Sure, these kids are bright, but lots of them have been brainwashed by Texas public education. I think they got pissed last fall when they found out they didn't know everything."

"And you do, Drew? Know everything, I mean?"

He looked taken aback. "No, of course not. C'mon, you know me better than that."

"I do. But these kids in your first semester World History Survey don't. They're running scared, feeling academic pressure, some of them for the first time. It's easy to crush them, make them feel small. That seems to be what you're doing."

"So what should I do?"

"Don't just lecture. Get them involved. Ask them questions, what they think. Then listen to what they say, no matter how stupid it seems. Find something that you can work with."

"But there's material I've got to cover. What if they wander off-track?"

"Then you steer them back. Remind them what the topic is. Call their attention to specific passages in the reading that you want them to consider."

Drew was silent, then shook his head. "This is going to be really difficult."

I let my voice harden. "Well, Dr. Ohlen? Do you want to be a good teacher, or not? Do you want to get tenure, or not?"

He looked up, startled. I backed off, just a bit. "Drew, you've met and overcome challenges before in your career. This is just another one. I'll help you all I can."

"How?"

"Well, let's work on one class. The second semester World History Survey, since it's going to be your biggest, and it has a lot of general ed students in it. With your permission, I'll sit in at least once a week--more if I can--and observe. Then let's set up a weekly meeting and talk about what I saw."

I was aware of Drew looking at me. I kept talking.

"I also recommend that you do a midterm course evaluation. Pass out the same form if you like, or you can make up one yourself. That way, you still have time to make changes if things aren't going well. I'll go over those with you too, of course."

"How are you going to find the time to do all this?"

I shrugged. "I'll make the time. This is important."

Drew leaned forward and I caught my breath. There was a look in his eyes I hadn't seen in quite a while.

"Glenn, I can't tell you how much I appreciate this."

I shrugged, trying to ignore the thudding of my heart. I'd forgotten the effect his physical presence had on me. "Thanks not needed. It's my job."

"Spending hours a week helping one faculty member is not part of your job." Drew got up to go. I heard him say under his breath, "Damn, I wish--"

"What?"

He looked back, his eyes neutral again. "Nothing. See you Monday at nine? Room 103."

So I started observing Drew Ohlen's World History class. At first the students were curious, but after a few sessions they soon forgot I was there. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday for several weeks I sat quietly in the back of the classroom.

The class had eighteen students in it, fairly large for a discussion-based class but not unmanageable. After a very short time I made a surprising discovery: teaching in this format made Drew Ohlen nervous. All the signs were there. He talked fast, too fast for some students to follow. He cut them off when he thought he knew what they were going to say. He moved a lot around the classroom without a clear purpose. And though he had worried about the students wandering off track, in fact he was the one that went off on tangents and neglected the supposed topic of discussion.

He was aghast when I told him all of this.

"I really do that?" he said, several times. I nodded.

"If you don't believe me, we can try videotaping a session or two. The students will really notice, though. It'll change the entire dynamic of the class."

"No, we don't need to do that." Drew shook his head. "I just can't believe I'm so bad at this."

I tried to reassure him. "These aren't huge problems, Drew. Look, the students can tell you know your stuff. They just want to feel like they're partners in the learning experience."

His smile was crooked. "You know and I know that the last thing graduate school does is make you feel like a partner in the learning experience. If we're motivated, we learn everything we need to know. Everything except how to teach."

"Well, better late than never, I guess."

"I thought my student days were finally over. Guess not." I looked at him as he bent over the notes I had given him. This was a different Drew from the confident Adonis who had swaggered into our department for his interview last spring and bowled us over. Against my better judgment I found myself missing that man. Maybe with my help he'd back soon enough.

"I forgot to say one thing. I've really enjoyed watching you teach."

He snorted. "Like hell."

"I really have." It was the truth. Despite his problems in the classroom, Drew's brilliance and ease in handling complex topics was breathtaking. Often he went over students' heads, true, but I could appreciate the quality of his mind.

What I didn't tell him was that I also appreciated the chance to sit and stare at him for hours every week, watching his blue eyes flash every time he got excited. Or waiting for that glowing, irresistible smile to break out. Or tracing the V-shape of his back and shoulders with my eyes when he turned to write on the board. Checking out his tight butt in the fitted khakis he wore to perfection.

I could lust after him to my heart's content, and no one was the wiser.

Gradually Drew's teaching improved. He seemed more at ease, making jokes, poking fun at himself. The students noticed this and were more willing to speak up. Discussions got livelier and there was frequent laughter. A unit on the role of women in traditional society precipitated a fiery debate, when Drew asked the class to think about whether things had changed all that much in the modern world.

I stopped him in the hall after that class and gave him the thumbs-up sign. He nodded, flushed with excitement, and said, "Yeah, that went pretty well, didn't it?"

"It was great. You really got them fired up."

He shook his head. "I'm amazed I can do that." Self-deprecation was another skill at which Drew was improving.

I put my hand on his shoulder, shivering inside at the small liberty I was taking. "You're passing out the mid-term evaluations next week, right? I bet you're going to be happy with what they say."

"Damn, I can't believe it," Drew said. We were in my office a week later, course evaluation forms in an untidy pile on my desk. He slammed his hand down on the wood, exultant.

"I think this is what they call a slam dunk," I said, keeping my voice level, though I was as excited as he was.

"I especially like this one. I can't believe this is the same professor I had for World History I last semester.'" Drew laughed as he picked up another form. "Or this one. I enjoy listening to him as much as looking at him.' Can you believe a freshman woman would write that?"

"Might not be a woman," I suggested.

He didn't pick up on my remark, just leaned back in the chair and heaved a sigh. He blinked, and I noticed how bright his eyes were. Were there tears in them? "I don't mind telling you, Glenn, I was really scared. Scared I wouldn't be able to do this." He sat forward again and looked directly at me. "Thank you. Now let me take you to dinner, to repay you a little bit for all you've done for me."

It was a late February day, already warm, and the sun was shining into my office. What I really wanted was for him to suggest we go to the lake again. That wasn't going to happen.

I said, "Thanks, that would be great."

He grinned. "I get to pick the place. Remember I'm still on an Assistant Prof's salary."

Drew's taste in dining out ran to cheap Mexican, lubricated with strong margaritas. As the evening wore on we got more and more boisterous. He regaled me with irreverent anecdotes about famous scholars that he had worked with--people I could only dream of meeting.

He finally paid the check and we left the restaurant, lurching a bit but trying our best to appear sober and composed as we got in my car. Fortunately we were only a few blocks from the Steelman campus and my house.

"Oh, damn," I said, as we approached the limestone buildings of the college.

"What's the matter?" Drew asked.

"Well, there's a report I've got to read tonight, not that I'm in any shape to. Mind if I stop by the office and get it?"

Drew grinned. "Such a workaholic."

We pulled into the parking lot and I got out. To my surprise Drew got out too.

"I'll come with you. I need to walk some of this wine off."

The building was locked, so I used my passkey and punched the code in to disable the alarm. Our footsteps echoed off the tiled floor of the corridor.

We reached my office door, unlocked it and went in. My desk was in its usual chaotic state. I forgot about Drew as I rummaged among the various piles.

"Where the hell is that Religion Department report? I am not going to ask the Provost's Office for another copy. Oh, here it is. Thank god--"

I turned with the looseleaf binder in my hand and recoiled, startled. Drew was behind me, his face inches from my own. His warm breath, fragrant with alcohol, bathed my face.

"Drew--" I stepped back and his strong hands grasped my shoulders.

"Glenn. Listen to me. Please."

"What is it?"

His blue eyes were dark with emotion.

"I want to apologize to you."

"Apologize? For what?"

He lowered his eyes and shook his head. "For being such an asshole last fall. Rushing things. Trying to force you into bed with me. If you only knew how many times I've beat myself up for doing that."

"There's no need for you to do that."

His eyes pierced mine again. "Yes, there is."

"Drew--"

He rushed on. "I was a cocky, arrogant fool. I thought I teaching here would be a breeze. That everyone would just fall in love with me, including you." He let me go and turned away. "I know better now, but it's too late. Because I've lost you."

I reached out and grasped his shoulder, feeling the muscle knotted beneath his shirt.

"It's not too late, Drew."

He turned, startled. "What?"

Now it was my turn to eat crow. I wanted him so badly but even so the words stuck in my throat.

"I've thought about that day at the lake."

Drew's face and neck flushed a deep red. His hand went to the back of his neck, and a rueful grin appeared on his face. "Please, don't remind me."

"It's not that. I didn't make you back off because I didn't want you."

He said nothing.

"I said no because I did want you. Like crazy. So much that it was scaring me to death."

Drew's mouth opened, but no words came out. I rushed on.

"I've done a lot of thinking since then. You were right about everything. I can't believe I have the nerve to ask, but I'm wondering if the offer's still open."

A long silence. Finally Drew spoke. "What about that stuff you said? About professionalism? About, how did you put it, compromising your objectivity?"

I shook my head in disgust. "All bullshit. Chairspeak. I've gotten really good at it."

We looked at each other. My heart skipped a beat as I saw a slow smile spread across Drew's face.

"Maybe it's time to stop talking."

He raised a hand toward my face. I caught at it in mid-air and pressed it, hard, to my lips. He gathered me into his arms. At last I was where I had dreamed of being, pressed against his chest. I felt the heat of his body, heard his heart beating. It was thudding as loud and fast as mine.

We stood in there in my office, rocking back and forth. As much as Drew's physical being had filled my fantasies over the past months, at that moment I felt nothing sexual, just simple tenderness.

Then Drew pressed his lips to mine and tenderness was gone. We kissed frantically, tongues, lips and teeth grinding and clashing against one another. I ran my hands over his body, marveling at the hardness of his torso. When I started to pull his shirt out of his pants, though, he stopped me.

"No office blow job," he said. "We're doing this right."

I nodded. "My house is two blocks from here. I'm warning you, it's a mess."

Drew laughed. "I'll never tell."

He chuckled again in my bedroom when he saw the stacks of papers piled on the table by the bed.

"Don't you ever stop working, Glenn?" he asked, as he unbuttoned my shirt.

I shrugged. "I've never had anything else to do here at night." I gasped as his fingers found one of my nipples. Drew smirked.

"That's going to change."

He pulled my shirt off and gazed at my chest. I blushed.

"Drew, do you really think--I have a hot body?"

He smiled. "Would I lie to my department chair?"

My insecurities came rushing back. "You're so damn beautiful. You make me feel old and fat."

Drew shook his head. "I'm just me. You want to know the truth? The day I saw you in the locker room at the beginning of the semester, I had to go home and jack off."

"Really?"

He nodded as he undid my belt. "Mm hmm. You looked so fucking hot in that jockstrap. Ran out of the gym, hoping no one would see my woodie."

I ran my hand across the hardening bulge under his fly. "You were a cocky little devil, feeling me up at the airport."

Drew laughed as he undressed. "Look who's talking. Here I am about to do my teaching demonstration and a search committee member's checking me out in the bathroom mirror. Talk about pressure."

By now I had his dick in my hand. I gazed at it, feeling its hardening heat, marveling at the beauty of the male anatomy. I shook my head. "I'd never thought I'd get to touch it."

Drew's voice was soft. "It's all yours, baby."

I fell to my knees to worship my idol. I drew him into my mouth, savoring the different textures, smooth hard knob and bumpy, veined shaft. I tasted the salt of his precum. I pressed forward until the head of his cock was about to gag me, his dark blond pubes tickling my nose. Above me Drew sighed and ran his hands through my hair.

"Mm, nice. Suck it."

I gathered his nuts into my hand as I slid back and forth on his shaft. In the midst of my labors strong hands grabbed me under the arms and pulled me to my feet.

I was disappointed. "Why'd you make me stop?"

Drew smiled. "You're too good. I was getting too close."

"I want you to cum in my mouth. I want to taste it."

He shook his head. "Not yet."

In another moment our remaining clothes were on the floor and I was stretched out on my back, Drew crouching over me. His mouth surrounded first my cock, then my balls, engulfing them with warm wet heat. I felt his tongue moving down the ridge behind my nut sack, between my legs. I let out a moan as it began to tickle and tease my asshole.

Drew made muffled sounds of approval as he burrowed between my cheeks, his strong arms lifting my legs high as he ate out my hole. Finally he came up for air. His face appeared between my legs, reddened and wet from his exertions, plastered with a wicked grin.

"Damn, you're hot," he said. "You ready?"

"Ready for what?" I said, puzzled. Then I realized what he meant. "Oh, no," I said, smiling to cover up my anxiety. "I don't do that--get fucked, I mean."

Drew's face fell, then I saw his jaw set. He was not going to take that as a final answer. "Why not?"

I thought making something up, but what came out of my mouth was the truth. "Drew, I've never done it. Been bottom, I mean."

He was incredulous. "Never?"

I felt silly and ashamed. "Dirk is the only man I ever had sex with more than once, and he never wanted to. Since then I've thought about trying it, but I didn't want just anyone. I wanted to do it with someone I cared about."

His gaze was steady, magnetic. "Do you care about me, Glenn?"

The words stuck in my throat.

"Well, I care about you. Can you trust me?"

I looked into his eyes, his eager, handsome face. I saw his body, the massive shoulders and muscled chest, the bulging biceps. Finally I looked at the swollen rod jutting from between his legs, the prize he was offering. I tried to imagine how it would feel inside me. I couldn't.

I nodded. "Okay."

In a flash his hands cupped my face and his lips were on mine. "Oh, Glenn," he whispered when he released me. "Thank you. You won't regret it."

My smile was weak, the doubts already surfacing. Drew, however, appeared to have none. He reached down, picked up his pants from the floor and drew out a somewhat worn square of foil from his wallet. I laughed.

"You always carry one of those?"

"Never know when you might need it. Now, how about some lube?"

I clicked my tongue. "I really don't know about that."

Drew got off the bed and went toward the bathroom. At the door he turned. "Trust me, every gay man has something in his medicine cabinet that'll work."

I chuckled despite my anxiety. The swaggering stud who had been gone during the early part of the semester was back. Drew might have deferred to me where classroom teaching was concerned, but here in the bedroom he was in charge.

In a moment he reappeared, carrying a plastic tube, a glistening sheath of latex over his swinging erection. "What did I tell you? Water-based moisturizer. The label even says `oil-free.'"

He got onto the bed and stretched out on his back, propping himself up on one elbow. His other hand grasped my arm.

"Okay, guy. You on top to start."

In another moment I was squatting over him, shivering as his hand rubbed cold gel between my cheeks. My own cock was rock hard. No doubt about it, my body wanted this to happen.

Drew grasped his cock and guided it into position. "Now, let yourself down. Nice and easy."

Hesitantly I obeyed, feeling the blunt head of his cock press at my resisting hole. The pressure increased, until suddenly it broke through the ring of muscle. Searing pain shot through me and I cried out, straightening as fast as I could so that he popped out again.

"Oh shit--I can't."

"Yes, you can." Drew's voice was commanding. I looked at him. His expression was firm, reassuring. His hand gripped my arm, preventing my escape.

"Just wait a minute and try again. Trust me, it's going to work."

The force of his desire stilled the protests on my lips. Instead I took some deep breaths, tried to relax. Finally I began to lower my body onto him a second time.

My heart thudded as I felt him pressing once more against me, slowly invading my unwilling hole. His thickness stretched me to the limit, until all of a sudden my sphincter muscles closed around him and he was inside. I had just enough time to register that it didn't hurt, when Drew grabbed me with both arms and pushed my body downward. I screamed as his cock surged through me in a huge thrust and I came to rest with my butt pressed against his pubic bone.

I turned my face to the ceiling, half sobbing, half laughing. The sensation of having my ass filled with cock for the first time was indescribable. The most carefully guarded place in my body had been invaded in brutal, final fashion, leaving total and unconditional surrender as my only option. I had been waiting for this moment all my life.

Just as that realization hit me Drew sat bolt upright, forcing me down. I hit the mattress on my back, hard enough to knock the wind out of me.

"What the--"

His eyes bored into mine as he turned himself, pressing his weight onto me. My legs were hooked over his shoulders, my body bent double, my ass still impaled on his cock.

"Now," Drew said, "We're going to get down to business. I'm going to be on top when I fuck you, Mr. Chairman. Any objections?"

I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feel of his rod inside me. I opened them again and looked into his face. His expression was as intense as I'd ever seen it. I shook my head.

Drew smiled. "Good."

I reached for my cock but he grabbed my hand.

"Uh-uh. You cum when I want you to. And it's not going to be soon."

I wondered how long I could endure this position. My back was already starting to ache. Drew read my mind.

"Don't worry, Glenn. I'll make you forget everything except how good you feel."

He kept his promise. Even now I can feel every moment of that first fuck, the sweet, long agony as he slowly withdrew, the anticipation of the moment when he would plunge into me again, making the bed and my body shake with the force of his thrust. I cried out every time he hit bottom, drawing a smile of satisfaction from him.

After a while he sat up again, leaning backward, holding my hips and pulling the lower half of my body into his lap, my shoulders and head still resting on the mattress. In this position he began to move his hips again, and an involuntary groan escaped from me at the shocks of pleasure that exploded in my brain every time the head of his dick hit my prostate. Drew grinned again at my reaction to this new sensation.

"You can feel that, can't you?"

He teased me a while longer, avoiding full penetration, then bent me double again and sank into me up to the hilt, his balls pressed against my butt. His tireless hips swung into action and he gradually accelerated the pace of his thrusts to a steady, relentless pounding. My eyes closed and my head lolled on the pillow as I let him have his way with me.

I don't know how long Drew Ohlen fucked me that night, but he not only broke through the protective shell I'd carefully constructed around myself since those awful days in Oklahoma, he smashed it to little pieces. After a while I was like a newborn baby in his arms, helpless underneath him, whimpering. Begging for more. Hoping it would never end.

My arms encircled his back and drew him down toward me. I felt the heat of his driving body, his sweet breath on my face. His musky scent filled my nostrils. Sweat dripped from his brow onto my cheek.

"Fuck me, Drew," I said. He nodded.

"You got it, man."

I tightened my hole around his piston. Drew nodded approval. "Mm hmm. Sweet ass. So fucking tight."

He grabbed my own aching dick and began to stroke it, his eyes spearing me. "Ready to cum for me? Let me see you squirt."

I nodded as my breath quickened. Drew's eyes never left my face as he propelled me toward orgasm. "C'mon guy, that's it. Cum for daddy. Let me have it."

Incoherent, broken words came from my mouth as I felt myself approach the point of no return.

"Oh God, oh yes, yes...fuck YES!"

With a shout I went over the edge, but forced my eyes open long enough to see the first jets of sperm arc from the bursting head of my dick. I gave in then, squeezing them shut and grunting helplessly as I blew my load all over my heaving chest and belly.

"Uh-huh. Beautiful sight, to see you shoot. Do it guy," Drew murmured. His thrusts increased in force and speed until he was drilling into me. "Fuck... I'm cumming. Oh shit!"

I tightened my ass muscles as hard as I could, trying to draw him into me even further as his rod throbbed, delivering its cum into the rubber deep inside of me. I opened my eyes and looked up. Drew's body was in spasm, his back arched, his face frozen in a grimace of agony and ecstasy. All at once he let go and collapsed onto me with his full weight. We lay, embracing, hanging on to one another, stuck together with my cum, recovering from the tornado that had ripped through our bodies.

After a while Drew raised himself on his hands and smiled down at me.

"You okay, Glenn?"

I smiled back.

"Never better." A slight trace of anxiety appeared in his eyes.

"I wasn't too rough, was I? Did I hurt you?"

I shook my head, trying to clear the stars dancing in front of my eyes. "I don't think so. I'm not so sure about the bed, though."

Drew chuckled. "It's been a long time since I got carried away like that. That'll teach you to play hard to get."

My smile faded. "I was such an idiot."

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it." He leaned down and kissed me. "You were worth the wait."

He started to withdraw. I groaned anew as my ass clamped down on him, not wanting to let him go. He laughed.

"C'mon, baby. I'll be back soon, I promise."

Finally released, he headed into the bathroom while I stretched my stiff legs and back. I caught a glimpse of the rubber covering his still semi-erect cock, ballooning with his cum. After a while he returned, now swinging free, holding a towel. He wiped me off and gathered me into his arms. I lay against the light covering of fur on his chest, content beyond imagining. At that moment it would have been enough to lie in bed with Drew for the rest of my life.

Soon enough, though, the usual gremlins awoke inside and began to stir. I shifted and sighed.

"You okay?"

"Tomorrow morning," I told him, "I'm going to go to Jon's office and resign as chair of the history department."

"Who's going to help me with my teaching?" He looked worried.

"You're turning things around, Drew. Those midterm evals prove it. The students seeking you out, coming in during your office hours--those are good signs. Just stay on course and you'll be fine."

"I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't been there for me. " Drew put his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. "I know you think it's the right thing to do, but I'm sorry about it anyway."

I shrugged. "Helping you has been worth it, but otherwise, it's just a title. The extra money's for shit. Doesn't begin to make up for the paperwork and aggravation. Now that it appears we have a relationship it'd be cleaner if I weren't evaluating you as a professional."

Drew chuckled. "`It appears we have a relationship.' I guess that's one way to put it." He pulled my softening cock and wiggled his brow. "If Elden Lewis could see us now."

"How did you know? He actually lives next door. Believe me, I didn't plan that."

Drew shook his head. "I guess it takes all kinds to make a university, but I could do without him. Think he's watching out his window to see if I leave tonight?"

I sighed. "I'd love for you to stay, but--"

A wry expression appeared on Drew's face. "I know. One step at a time. Having taken your virginity I don't think I should ask for any more." His mouth descended on mine in a long and lingering kiss. Finally he broke away. "I'd better stop that or I won't leave."

He rose from the bed. I felt a pang of regret at the sight of his nakedness, about to be lost to me again. Drew dressed quickly, then bent down and kissed me one last time.

"See you at school, professor. Meet at the pool at noon?"

"I don't know. Seeing you in that Speedo--I'm not sure I could control myself."

Drew snorted. "After the way you've kept me at arm's length this year? Trust me, you're the champion of control."

Words rose to my lips. Not any more. Not after what you did to me tonight. Instead I said, "If you say so. Night."

He hugged me one more time. "Night, Glenn."

I lay awake that night long after Drew had gone, mulling over all that had happened in my mind, smiling, frowning, once in a while laughing out loud. My world had been turned upside down with stunning speed. I was terrified, but also exhilarated. No matter how it ended, the ride would be one to remember.

I had no idea just how memorable things were going to get.

TO BE CONTINUED