The double tap on the open office doorway caught my attention. Glancing up I found Mary Richards, American Literature professor and owner of a set of the finest natural C cup breasts that I'd ever had the privilege of playing with, standing in my doorway. "How was the summer?" she asked.
"Good," I answered automatically without thinking. "Had a really good summer. You?"
"Mmmm," she answered, raising her eyebrows as she did, "I've got a lot to tell you. You up for Saturday?"
And there it was. It was the third week of school, two weeks later than I would have bet on, but there it was. The routine the previous year had been that we would get together on Saturdays two, sometimes three, times a month and go out to dinner, a party, a movie, or maybe the theatre, and then fuck each other to exhaustion. She'd been my date to the staff Christmas party last year, and although we weren't together all the time, many knew we'd seen each other multiple times.
I hadn't seen Linda since she left, except in classes, and she hadn't said anything or stayed around long enough for me to say anything to her after the class. I'd see her again the next class but here we hadn't been separated by even a few weeks and the exact scenario that she'd hypothesized about had come up,
"What will you tell Mary Richard's when she wants to bump uglies?"
I hadn't really thought about it at that time, I'd ignored that it would happen, but now here it was -- the elephant in the room, at least in my mind.
"I can't this week Mary, maybe next?" I lied. I could, but the reality was I didn't want to.
"Ok, I'll hold you to it. Gotta run." And just like that, she was gone.
Linda was being her normal perfectionist in class, even better than the previous semester, giving me no reason to talk with her about anything. She'd had her homework done and ready the first time and every time I called for homework to be turned in. She'd aced the quizzes that I'd given. She'd answered questions in class perfectly. She'd missed no classes, had made no calls to ask what the homework was, or used any other excuse to call me. I missed just hearing her voice.
I'd called her the afternoon that she left, but she hadn't wanted to talk about it, just said that it was better and easier this way. She gave the same reason; we wouldn't have to hide our relationship from other professors; we wouldn't have to pretend in the company of other students that we didn't have anything except a student-teacher relationship. Somehow I had the feeling that I'd done something wrong, but going over and over in my mind, I couldn't see what. We'd started with some lustful infatuation, we'd hooked up and obviously had some mutual care and admiration going on, but somehow, something must have been missing - as just like that, it was over.
~
I opened the door; Mary stepped ahead of me into my living room. I slid my hand onto her back, just as I had so many times before, but instead of enjoying the attributes of her body I was realizing all the differences between her body and that of the last woman that had stepped through my front door with me, Linda. Linda's body was muscular, she worked out daily, Mary's back was softer, not as muscular, but still shapely. Mary's much larger bottom was where the difference really showed; soft, rounded, and sexy in a different way.
"So are you going to tell me about her?" Mary asked an hour later, rolling onto her side and propping her head up on her arm. Her other hand was playing with the hair on my chest, lazily drawing figure eights with a finger.
"Who?" I answered, unsuccessfully trying to make it seem that I didn't know what she was talking about.
"The woman that's been sharing your bed. The woman that's been leaving her touches around the house. The woman that seems to be on your mind more than the one you're with."
"I don't know, are you going to tell me about your lovers? Meet anyone interesting? Or should I say, hook up with anyone interesting?"
"It's about time you asked," she giggled, dropping onto her side and snuggling up to me. Looking up to me with an impish look on her face, first she sucked her lower lip between her teeth and then said "I had my first threesome."
"What?" I exclaimed, knowing that she'd always professed that she'd try it if the opportunity arose. She proceeded to gleefully tell me all about her nearly three-month trip to Europe, starting in Turkey and then moving westward and north to the Scandinavian countries before ending with a week on the beaches of Spain. She'd met a Swedish couple, Soren and Annika, at the airport in Mykonos that were staying at the same resort that she was. They hit it off and ended up spending the day together and meeting up on the beach the following day. When Soren made a pass at her that evening after dinner she'd asked him "What about your wife?" He responded that Annika was hoping they could all play together. "So we did. "
"Hmmm." I said, realizing that my cock was responding faster than it had been. "Was it all you thought it would be?"
"Oh my God, yes. In Spades! I was a little unsure about whether I would like being with a woman, but -- O. M. G!" She pronounced the three letters as if they were words, with emphasis. "I don't know, I thought maybe Annika would be a bit jealous of me being with Soren, but it was just the opposite. She loved watching us and joining in. We'd wear Soren out, and then take care of each other until he recovered. Women are so soft, and warm and cuddly -- and a 69 with a woman is absolutely the best." She rambled on effusively for easily fifteen minutes, telling me all about nightclubs and sex, beaches and sex, siesta's and sex, and just plain sex before she ran out of steam. "So what about you? I know you weren't a good little Monk all summer so who did you hook up with?"
Despite having had several weeks to come up with some kind of believable lie, I hadn't. I told her that I'd hooked up with a couple of women at different times; a woman in a bar, and then several weeks later a woman after a wedding, and that we'd spent most of the summer together, but it was over -- she'd moved on.
"Just like that? A summer fling and now she's gone? Did she live with you?"
"Not really, she just spent a lot of time here. We called it off. She works nights; I work days -- the same problems as with my wife. She's got a daughter; all in all, we just knew it wouldn't work."
"Well then that's good for me, isn't it? I still get you on Saturday nights or whenever I need a nookie session?"
I laughed. "Yes, I suppose so."
Despite my laughter and assurance, I had my doubts.
I got back into the routine fast enough, day after day getting up, going to class, and teaching the same thing, again and again. Twice a week I'd see her; sitting in her same spot, wearing her same oversized sweatshirt. She'd answer if I called on her, she'd volunteer just as she always had, but then she'd look away. The occasional flash of eye contact we'd had the semester before was gone as if she was studiously avoiding it. I'd see her watching me when everyone else was watching me, but it never had the magic feel of the previous semester.
And it was agony for me.
Mary and I hooked up three consecutive weekends, attending a staff party at the halfway mark of the semester. As always, despite the desires to not talk business, work parties always come down to business. Secretaries and administrative assistants, always willing to tell the importance of what they're doing for the process, are the worst. Second worst are the pompous professors, too big for their britches, flush with their tenure and knowing that no one can test them. When it comes to the classroom, they are God. For junior, non-tenured professors like me, we just keep our mouths shut and listen to what others are saying.
"What I heard is that they're examining records, looking for anomalies with statistics. You know, low grades that suddenly change or get increases where they're not deserved. They've got some statistical consultant that used to work for NASA. Remember when the space shuttle rocket blew up years ago? It's the same guys that figured out what happened with that." I was getting a glass of wine, two actually -- one for Mary and one for me when I overheard this little tidbit. I moved my eyes, glancing over without turning my head. I didn't recognize either of the two young women that were talking while thinking they were out of ear-shot of others.
"Do you suppose they'll finally nail that scumbag professor?"
