"By the end of the school year, you'll be deep in the know about 'all things Alden'," said Anne, chuckling at the end of the sentence. "This college has a heart, a soul, and maybe a few things haunted." I had not heard Anne laugh out loud when I came to Alden College for the first time to interview for my new job. Her laugh struck me as part naughty, part witchcraft. But most colleges have their legends. I was glad to have Anne Satterfield, the college's unofficial historian, to be my guide.
I accepted the formal job offer just before Memorial Day, five weeks before I would start. I lived just outside a large Eastern city at the time. So I invited Anne to come visit, provided that she could swing the cost of the flight. I extended my invite over Skype so I saw the priceless expression on her face. It was as if she had won the big ticket in a lottery and wanted to collect her winnings before anyone could claim a matching number. She opened her blouse for me and started playing with her ample tits. I ran my hand along my zipper line until her nipples hardened pink. Then I unzipped and pulled out my throbbing cock. She smiled as we rubbed ourselves in synch, licking her lips as my cum took flight.
"Oh Rob, this is going to be so beautiful. You and me. Making a new Alden," said Anne, her saggy tits still in my view. "I can hardly wait to see you." She blew a kiss. Then she turned off the call.
After I cleaned up, I could not get Anne out of my mind. I'd dated my share of curvy women, always found the shape arousing. I did not care about the difference in our ages. But Anne was two extremes, one the needy teenager, the other the motherly guardian of Alden College. I knew no one who had been in a relationship with someone like Anne. And for all I knew one of these extremes, or both, could fade away as her true retirement date got closer. She had no reason to care about me or my success going forward on July 1st, let alone a year later. She could have left me to learn about all things Alden on my own.
I was stunned when I picked up Anne four weeks later at the airport. She had lost weight; her ample breasts became more prominent through her white cotton buttoned blouse, top buttons unbuttoned. She wore a long flowing floral skirt that looked loose and comfortable as if she could read a book in her lap. As she hugged me tight she gave my cheeks the wettest kiss I'd ever gotten in my life. As soon as we got away from the airport crowds and found my car, she stopped me and ran a hand around my ass. Then she slid her tongue into my mouth. I became lost in the kiss, not caring if anyone walked by us, and brought her closer. The kiss resumed as soon as we got in the car. It was as if we were making out in a drive-in theater, not caring about the movie.
I had planned our return journey to Alden to stop at other colleges that had faced challenges similar to those Anne and I would face in our coming admissions cycle. A former women's college needed to have several "hooks" to lure men, we learned. The challenge of finding them was far from easy. These schools had advantages we did not. Some had more money. Others were located in college towns where there was more to do, and there were other schools nearby. Most took me only as grad students or night students. They would not live on campus. This made the most sense, if Alden was in a place if it could get them. But the school was too isolated for that. We could only take men as full-time students, as we had always taken women.
There's a line about the opportunities for women at a college that has far more men than women: the odds are good, but the goods are odd. One might imagine this is also true for men at a female-majority school. But that depends on the men you get. What kind of men would we have in our next freshman class? Would they be drawn to our women—and the attraction would be mutual? Or would they be different? That conversation dominated our cross-country journey when it was just us in the car between schools or rest stops.
Anne proved to be a better travel companion than I'd ever expected. She initiated many of our unscheduled "breaks." She'd spy a secluded spot and run her hand along my knee cap and inner thigh urging me to pull over. She had an apparently never-ending collection of loose-fitting shirts and blouses and flowing skirts and slacks. On driving legs when no school stops had been planned she wore no bra at all. I left the back seat of my SUV folded down, blankets for cover, so that we could play at any time.
Anne had vacated her office at Alden to make room for me upon my arrival. While she would be my advisor about all things Alden for the next year, as well as my "landlady," she also wanted to take time to herself to enjoy her new found freedom. I was fine with that; she had no obligations to me as a successor or lover. After I settled into my new office, Anne presented me with a gift. It felt heavy under its careful and colorful gold foil wrapping paper and tightly tied red bow.
"Anne, this isn't necessary," I said, feeling the weight of the package. "You've given me far more than I deserved. I know how much you loved this job and how much you mean to Alden."
"No, it's necessary." Anne smiled. "It's your bible of all things Alden."
I untied the red bow and snipped the tape that held the wrapping with a scissor on my new desk. Anne had given me a leather bound history of Alden College filled with glossy pictures of its past and recent present. More interesting was the name of the book's co-author: Anne Satterfield.
"My god, why didn't you tell me?" I asked. "I could have read this before I left."
Anne put a hand on my shoulder, careful for no one to see it if they walked past my open office door. "I wanted you and I to 'read' this together. You've made me feel so young, like I could relive my best times here. She looked to see if no one was walking by, squeezed my ass and kissed me on the cheek. Anne had gotten into the habit of wearing more prominent makeup since I first came to campus. I blushed, then took a handkerchief out of my pocket to wipe her kiss off my cheek as she frowned playfully.
I sat behind my new desk and placed the book at the center. Anne took the visitor's chair that I had sat in during my first meeting with her. I flipped past early pages of women at school and play, faculty in class. Those could have been taken at any college. Then my fingers arrived at the page with the heading 'Liberty House.'
"Liberty House has been at Alden since time immemorial," said Anne. She reached behind her neck, unhooked her necklace and handed it to me. The charm matched the Liberty House logo in the book. "Liberty House is very special—and we must protect its legacy."
"Why? What makes it so special?" The pictures of the house showed me nothing remarkable. Other colleges had all-female homes for women with special interests or needs.
"Liberty House is not a language house, or a theatre house, or anything like that, and it's definitely not like a sorority." Anne opened her hand to ask me to return her necklace, and I did. "Liberty House also has the highest GPA on campus. It is also the most philanthropic. But it cannot accept men."
I knew nothing about Liberty House until now, nor did I have any influence upon its future. Alden would remain all-female for at least another year, until room could be made in the more traditional residence halls. I had no idea if men would even want to live in Liberty House if its mission had included only women for over a century.
"We don't have to worry about that for now," I said. "But what if men want to join in the future?"
"I won't let it happen, Rob. I swear I won't," Anne replied, her tone determined.
"Anne, I'm sure the College will make some accommodations for Liberty House, and for the men we admit."
"You must know more about Liberty House. You must know why it must stay what it has been. Some traditions are meant to stay traditions. There's more to the house than what you'll find in this book."
This was a July day. There were no students in the residence halls, though the upper-class women who lived in the special-interest houses were allowed to remain on campus for the summer. Each house had its own kitchen as well as a small parking lot for the students who had brought cars to school. Like faculty at other small colleges, Alden professors hired students as research assistants for the summer. About half of the residents of Liberty House, Anne told me, took advantage of such opportunities.
"Emily Scott, the current president, is living on campus this summer," said Anne. "So are seven other girls. There's also a house mother, Renee', who lives on the first floor. She's been there fifteen years."
"That's a long time,"
"She's a history professor here, too, and an alumna. This place means as much to her as it does to me." Anne picked up the leather-bound book she had given me, and showed me the cover. Renee' Masterson, the second name, had been Anne's co-author. A lightbulb suddenly clicked in my head. Had Renee' and Anne been something more than co-authors?
"She's also my best friend on campus," Anne said. "A lot of faculty have come and gone. Those who stay tend to be alumni. A handful were sisters in Liberty House."
