I was beginning to think I was falling in love with Kate, damn it. Or was I just in love with her blow jobs? I just couldn't stop thinking about her. And about her blow jobs. I'd really begun to lose interest in the photography thing. It was Wednesday night, what should have been a night at home chilling out in front of the TV, but I just couldn't get her out of my mind. I sat there, wondered what she was doing right now. Damn!
I picked up the phone and dialed her number.
"Hi David, how's tricks?" she answered. I could hear a lot of noise in the background. She was obviously out somewhere.
"Pretty good," I replied. It was nice to hear her voice on the other end of the line. "What are you up to tonight? Sounds noisy there."
"I'm at the Kentucky Tavern," she said. "Drinks with a work colleague. What are you doing?"
"Oh, nothing. Nothing much. Just watching TV."
"Why don't join us?"
"Yeah, OK, that'd be great. I'll see you soon."
Yes, I thought to myself. Drinks at the local with Kate and her work pal, and then later, who knows? All of a sudden I was feeling a whole lot better. I quickly changed clothes and was on my way to the bus stop.
When I arrived I saw Kate sitting in the outside area, pretty much the spot we had dinner that time when she wanted to make it up to me for being such a bitch. The night our 'relationship', or whatever it was, really began. She was dressed in a cream business suit, fairly short shirt, with moderate sized pumps. Stylish, with a hint of sexuality. Anyone who saw here there, with her fair complexion and slight, almost delicate build, would without doubt have thought she looked tantalizingly sexy in an innocent, angelic kind of way. Of course, that's only those that didn't know her. Still, she looked sexy to me; I could feel my balls shifting a little merely at the sight of her.
There was a man sitting with her; tall, dark haired, about 10 years older than me. Kate saw me coming over and they both stood up to greet me.
"Hi David, this is Richard. We work together at the college."
I exchanged greetings with Richard, an Englishman, judging by his heavy accent. They worked together in the same department of the college, apparently. The waiter came and I ordered a Bud.
"So you're a professor, too?" I asked.
"Yes, old boy, I'm English, as you've no doubt gathered. I'm here on a three-year research project. Kate's been helping me when she can. Turns out our fields of academic expertise are the same: Geoffrey Chaucer and pre fifteenth century English Literature. I must say that Kate is a formidable Chaucer scholar!"
Kate laughed.
"Really?" I said, wracking my brain to try to remember who the hell Chaucer was. Yes, I remembered I studied Chaucer at college for a while. The guy wrote old English poetry, but it might as well have been another language - you could hardly understand a word of what he was on about.
"It was The Canterbury Tales that Chaucer wrote, wasn't it?" I said.
"Yes, that's Chaucer. The Canterbury Tales is his most famous work. A rather saucy, sizzling tale it is, too, especially by standards of the day. An incredible series of stories, really; the first truly great work of English literature in my view: wouldn't you agree, Kate?" She nodded. He continued. "Kate and I have often talked about co-writing a movie script for it, just for a lark, or at least part of it – I mean, old Geoffrey did go on and on!"
As they both laughed at what seemed like a kind of in-joke among Chaucer fans, it suddenly occurred to me how little I actually knew about Kate. Gee, a scholar of old English– I would never have thought it, especially from a girl who sucked cock better than anyone I'd ever met in my life... I chuckled to myself at that one, but then Kate said:
"David, I was just telling Richard before you arrived about your photography thing. He's most intrigued."
"Kate!" I blurted, almost choking on my mouthful of beer. Jesus, woman! Here she is telling another professor from the college that I take nude photographs of their students! What is it with her? She's got the tact of a runaway express train!
"Relax," she said. "Richard's cool, aren't you Rich?" He nodded.
"Absolutely, old boy," he said. "Rather capital idea, actually – wish I'd had the brains to think of it! Mind you, I dare say it wouldn't be awfully ethical for someone in my position! Still, we are talking about young girls of consenting age, so there's absolutely no harm in it – snap away to your heart's content, my good man! I'd love to take a look at your portfolio, though – that'd be something!"
"So would I!" Kate said.
They both laughed. They were having a great time. But I was embarrassed. I could hardly believe what I was hearing from these two 'academic scholars'.
"But I think David's little enterprise is fine," Kate continued. "I don't have any problem with it. Besides, it's helping some of my students financially as they work their way through college, so I guess he's kind of helping to keep me in a job," she laughed. "If only there'd been something like this for a girl to earn a bit more cash when I was going through college!"
"Indeed!" Richard said. "Ooh, I'd have loved to have seen those pictures! But Kate, you really ought to arrange to do your own shoot with David. You're much sexier than so many of those gangly young girls of yours."
"Oh thank you, Richard!" she laughed, embracing him in a hug and kissing him on the cheek, which I found slightly unsettling. Then she turned to me. "So, David," she said, playfully grabbing her breasts through her blouse as if to emphasise her assets, and looking none too concerned as to the potential spectacle she was making of herself in this public place, "what do you think: would you like to do a photo portfolio of me with no clothes on?"
Jesus. I felt my blood beginning to boil, partly through sheer embarrassment, but also because she was making me angry. She was making fun of me. But sitting there thrusting out her tits at me like that was also getting me just a little bit aroused. She's trying to mess with my head; the bitch is twisting my melon. But what was new about that? I ought to be used to it by now.
"Any time Kate, just drop by any time," I said, trying to sound casual, but inside feeling very self conscious and just a little bit foolish. I just wished I had my pics of her with me, so I could watch the look on her face when I spread them out on the table so her Chaucer buddy could see that I already had take nude shots of her, and that I'd shot my load all over her tits. That'd really be something...
"Well, maybe," she teased. "I'll think about it."
I managed to move the conversation away from my 'photography thing' which suited me just fine. We got to talking about the differences between here and England, which was at least common ground as I had spent a few months in London after I graduated. Turns out Richard has a house not far from where I spent a lot of my time, in a place called Bath. I didn't mention it in the conversation, but as we chatted about England I was remembering an affair I had with this English girl there. She was such a screw up, but she did have a killer body. She used to have this bizarre fetish where she liked to hang her naked ass out the window and have me take polaroids of her from outside in the street, which was really a secluded back alley that no one ever seemed walk down. Maybe that's where my 'photography thing' comes from... Invariably the photography would give way to me standing in the alley up against the wall of her house, leaning in the window and eating her pussy. Very weird. She had a husband, too, and that's how it ended – he must have found out, because one day I called round and saw the window opening up, just as she always did for me, and when I walked up to the opened window all of a sudden there was the big hairy naked ass of a man hanging out of the ledge. I froze in terror as the guy turned around and stared at me through his thick red beard and told me to 'fook off and ne'er come back round 'ere, or I'd be a fooking dead yank'. I took the hint. How weird.
The drinks were flowing freely, and I was enjoying the intelligent conversation. I was having a great time. Then Richard stood up.
"You must excuse me while I go to the lavatory," he said. Lavatory, I chuckled to myself; who says 'lavatory'? This guy reminded me a bit of John Cleese in that old Monty Python show.
Kate grabbed his hand before he could leave for the 'lavatory'. "Rich, could you grab me a glass of water from the bar on your way back, please?" she said. She was still holding his hand as he replied, with a flourishing bow that seemed intended to emphasise his Englishness: "Certainly, my dear." I watched as her fingers slid slowly, too slowly, out of his hand. I didn't like what I had just seen – that touch was intimate, like they had known each other a lot more closely, that this was more than merely an 'academic' relationship. I noticed that sparkle in her eye as she looked up at him; I had seen that look before! I felt the pangs of jealousy boiling in my veins. Damn, Kate and Richard!
I sat in silence as Richard strolled off to the bathroom. Kate looked at me.
"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked.
"Um, nothing," I half grumbled. But inside I was seething.
"Nothing?"
"Nothing," I snapped. I wished she would just leave it.
"Oh come on, there's something up. David?"
Jesus. She just doesn't let up. She put her hand on me knee.
