The Shower

Chapter 0. Preview.

(Note: as Monty Python used to say, "Now for something completely different." This is a departure from the "White Knight" series. Each of the parts is shorter and will appear more frequently.)

Tags for this part only.

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Is a shower where one meets the cleanest people? Or the dirtiest?

I had to ask what was I doing with my cock happily stroking in and out of this woman's tight ass as my fingers danced around her clit, providing great fun for both of us in the pitch black shower room. She and I had not really met. I did not see her face. I did not know her name. But I was getting a real good idea of what I imagined her husband could enjoy... assuming she was married as she claimed.

It is actually an interesting story... and what follows, about people, lust and love, is more interesting. At least, I think it is. Of course, I might be biased.

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If you wish to skip setup material and go directly to the shower, Chapter 2 has the parties saying "hello" in in the dark and putting the fun parts together in Chapter 3.

Warning: this story has one entirely natural event occurring at a time and place which will trip somebody's yucky fetish switch. There is a tag (last one). I don't usually write such things, this one exception has a role in framing the characters and is logical in the sequence. However, for those who want to skip it, you can jump over the short Chapter 4 titled "Briefly."

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It is a fact that only meetings can start the chain of events leading to new life. This starts a series where one chance incident of anonymous anal sex in the shower eventually leads, via the long way around, to life mates, lovers and darling children. The central characters include a man and two women he meets at a new job.

The central character a freshly minted PhD, Alec Braxton who is a new hire at a university. He is looking for something and finds something else. Such is the nature of discovery.

The series is planned for 8 parts, with each part having several chapters. The setting and activities of Part 1 are not typical of the rest, but first meetings are sometimes like that.

This set starts with the 2020-21 Academic Year that could have been, rather than the one that actually happened. I admit I have trouble seeing "joy" and "2020" together. Too many lights were dimmed. There will be no mention of COVID, vaccines or face masks or current politics.

I am nominating this as "Erotic Couplings" as most of the essential activity in this and future parts involves two people who are not married to each other. Some might nominate this Part as "Anal Sex" but that is incidental to the rest of the story so that label is misleading for the series. There is "married extra-marital fun" as theme for the series, but the folks having fun are not "Loving Couples."

Part 1 is essentially anonymous sex in one of those random, opportunistic encounters that changes lives. The identity and motivations of the actors are not fully presented. Truth is concealed. Some of what is said may be untrue or misleading, some critical facts are left out or disguised in this part. But on the small campus the characters will meet again so the seeds will grow and branch out as they all seek the sun. Part 2 clarifies the critical facts. Please reserve judgement as to the motivations until sufficient facts are presented.

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I am now retired, but in a past life I taught at several universities, some of which you may know because of successful football and basketball teams. Our greater academic success was largely unreported and under-appreciated. The job experience is a little different from the typical workplace or even K-12 teaching. I try to include some of this background into my fiction. Call it an education in higher education.

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Chapter 1. In The Dark

Tuesday, July 21, 2020

"You can't start a fire without a spark

This gun's for hire

Even if we're just dancing in the dark"

--by Bruce Springsteen

I teach graduate finance and accounting courses but that is incidental. My real job is to encourage collaborative publishing. I am what they call an academic "hired gun" on a 4-year contract to spark changes that would hurt a lot of people. My contract is for big bucks but is still an excellent deal for the university, since it was facing a death sentence that would hurt a lot more people if I failed. My annual salary is just part of the larger package, the President's flexibility in non-monetary factors made Hillside my choice.

I signed on to the graduate faculty of Hillside University in April, after I turned in my approved edit of my PhD dissertation in March (at another university). I moved to Hillside in May. By July I was starting to get my routines set on the new campus.

On a hot evening in July one of my summer habits is to run on campus during the last hour before sundown, to avoid the heat and traffic. That also gives me a chance to chat up Nancy, an instructor who aided in my recruitment. She just finished her regular tennis game so we both had a health glow going and needed a shower. I was hopeful she might want to share. It would not be the first time.

Nancy and I have gotten naked to enjoyed mutual oral pleasure but we are not exclusive. Our first time was at the convention where I was interviewed; she got my attention, aroused my interest and swallowed with a smile. I returned the favor, twice. The next few times were more relaxed encounters during my visit to campus before I made a final decision and after I moved. She might have received some $pecial motivation from the university higher-ups to hold my interest and be friendly; my market is very competitive plus I have some unique skills that make me especially valuable.

Based on my salary the Liberal Arts faculty cried "foul." Before I arrived there were impassioned speeches in the Faculty Senate and folks marched (in May, when the weather was nice), but that was somebody else's problem. Also, they don't know what is in the fine print, or the hoi polloi would scream bloody murder.

After I arrived on campus Nancy and I continued to get together for mutual enjoyment. Our time together includes discreet overnights, but the sex thus far was limited to oral and fingers. I am fine with that. We usually take turns giving pleasure. I give her a big smile about twice as often as she gives one to me, but in some things quality counts the most. Nancy is the winner.

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Nancy was by her old Camaro when I caught up with her. For tonight Nancy had other plans and it looked like those plans would start with her sharing a shower with some townie. It seems that for the cost of a burger and a few beers somebody, likely a guy or gal (odds were 30/70) she went to high school with, was going to enjoy Nancy naked.

After a brief talk I wished Nancy "good luck" with her night.

A few minutes later I ran into 60-year old Professor Dryden, who is a regional star in our field and, with Nancy, played a major part of getting me on board. Normally new hires start teaching in the fall, but because I finished my PhD earlier than expected I was brought aboard early and was able to pick up some extra money this summer team-teaching a general MBA course with Dryden.

But it wasn't about the money.

I agreed to the potential ambush. Sharing class time gave Dryden a chance to observe me closely. He would report about the quality of my work. If I was all I claimed to be, he would be a fan. But if I did not measure up they could invoke the opt-out clause in my generous extended contract and send me packing early.

No worries, I was quite sure Dryden would be impressed and would brag to the Provost about his genius in picking me.

Our talk tonight was brief but pithy, he challenged me to teach FASB #19 (he used the quaint term from the last century) as a computational example during class next Monday night, and to do it without a hint of present value computations. He wanted to make a big deal of the broader concept on the next exam, which I would write so he could steal it for his text book. It was a challenge because he wanted to see how I would handle the nasty cluster of thorny issues. It was also a great way to evaluate how good a teacher I was, since nobody else in the 5-state area covered the topic in depth. Quality education was the department's cachet with the national accounting firms that paid the big bucks to Hillside's top graduates.

I started to adjust my lecture plans right away. However, I belong to the subset of academics who gets distracted easily.

I knew FASB #19 was promulgated in 1977 so my mind went naturally to the music on my iPod that came out that year. The Sex Pistols sang "God Save The Queen." Queen sang "We Are The Champions/We Will Rock You." Jimmy Buffet recruited the conch nation with the happy wonders of "Margaritaville." The renewed/reimagined Fleetwood Mac, formerly a Brit blues band transformed into a Brit/US pop-hit machine, started their reign when they unleashed "Dreams" as an album that played non-stop in the minds of most people who heard it. In politics Jimmy Carter demonstrated how the world could ignore the USA when our military was chained up by a President who sought a higher power and lusted in his heart. Do your remember the good times during the Carter years? Nobody else did either. But as an ex-President I will say he did some good, habitat-wise.

As Dryden knew, FASB #19 was already on my syllabus of readings for next week. I had been leaning towards a light conceptual approach (15 minutes of lecture, with very little math) because frankly, our general MBA students who were the majority of the class were never going to be up to the present value math required.

FASB #19 was an accounting rule designed for oil and gas discoveries, at a time of shortages when revenue was pretty much assured. The 50-year time horizon requires present values for everything. Then it gets complicated, the CPA has to compute the selling price and profit margins of gasoline each of the next 50 years. The oil game resembles liars poker in some ways, this rule sought to fix that by adding many, many more lies. The pronouncement is more "CPA science fiction" than usable CPA rules, because we know nobody can predict 50 years out without making massive errors in their predictions. It did not last long.

Still, it was a good model for a critical issue and Dryden wanted a full demo, with a bottom line computation, for the exam. That meant fitting a big, squirming octopus of a problem into a small neat box. It was a thought-provoking, interesting challenge.

Most students would not see it that way. That would be my challenge.

I thought of using a sports example like that Mahomes guy, but that would not work for so many reasons. For example, whole front row of in my class was made up of Chinese female students who are whip-smart but would not get past the terms involved. Starting with "football," and why a quarter-of-a-back was worth more than a full-back when neither "foots" the ball.

I kept trying different examples in my head as I made my way to the woman's shower in the Athletic Center.

That was NOT distracted thinking.

The woman's shower was a summer issue. This summer the men's shower was being repaired, so men used the woman's shower at the top of the hour and women used their shower at the bottom of the hour. There was a loud warning buzzer 5 minutes before each change. This time of night only faculty are in the building, swiping their university ID so the building knows who is there. I got ready for my shower and then waited for the buzzer to enter. Nobody else was around.

I was in the shower thinking about the challenge, and humming something Fleetwood Mac (wait for it, you will too), so maybe I lost track of time. Academics do that, reality is such a distraction. Then all the lights went out. Suddenly I was naked and wet in one of the few rooms on campus without a window. It only lasted a minute or two, then the red emergency lights kicked on. The hot water kept going, but I put FASB #19 aside in my mind and started soaping my hair in the red light. A minute later the regular lights came back on and as I relaxed I thought of co-op power plants and coal contracts for the FASB #19 example: monthly or quarterly dividends, power demand for summer and winter, climate projections, annual coal purchase contracts, etc. It might work. Following that very clever thought slowed me down and I'm afraid I again lost track of the pesky real world.

It seemed like only a minute or two passed before the lights went out again. The emergency reds flashed on as I rinsed, but after only 30 seconds they also went out leaving me in a pitch black shower room. At least I was clean.

I had been the only one in the shower, and I had not heard a warning buzzer for the switchover, but students agree I am a terrible judge of time. Also, just after the emergency lights went out I heard what sounded like a door on the woman's side. Footsteps in the dark came towards the sound of my shower.

The lights stayed out. It occurred to me again that the men's time might be over so I got ready to leave. The layout of the shower is not too complicated, a large area with shower-heads along the walls plus four central pillars with shower-heads on each side. I figured I could sneak away in the dark.

The locker room in the dark? That could be a killer.

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Chapter 2. Hello

I was about to turn off my shower when a female voice said "hello" like it was normal. She sounded about 4 feet away. I was mortified, and maybe a little panicked, as it was pitch black and I was a new guy on campus in the woman's shower with a woman. Not a good look for the overpaid hired gun.

I had to say something. "Uh... hello? I seem to have overstayed." In my panic I tried a bad British accent and avoided contractions. The footsteps stopped.

"Uh... Hi... " she responded. Her voice seemed very calm. "Look, do you think we could skip introductions? The thing is, I am... well... why confuse people? I just needed to cool off so I came in here. I always mix up the 'top of the hour' 'bottom of the hour' thing."

The comment suggested she had been on campus a few years, I had learned that shower repairs are an annual event that would go on until the plumber's unborn grandkids graduated from a more expensive college.

As she said "skip introductions" my mind switched to a new track based on the reference. So I talked, it is what I do for a living. "Sort of 'Last Tango In Paris?' Okay, no names. I am pleased to meet you, Ms. whatever your name is."

"Now there is a spot-on film reference, and one you don't hear often. It came so quick. Respect. I am pleased to meet you. I must say, I don't recognize the voice..."

Yeah, I was working on that so I stuck with the butchered Brit accent. "I am new on campus... this is my first coed shower encounter. Do they happen often in your experience? My Dean did not mention..." I was trying to be funny (also harmless) attempting dry humor and I guess it worked because she gave a sharp laugh.

"No, but I have had a few close calls. Budget issues - there is a budget so we must spend it. We simply must keep this between ourselves... if Herr Broomhead hears about it he WILL use it for recruiting."

'Herr Broomhead' was a common derogatory term for our campus president, Dr. Curtis Brumhuld, PhD. It was another clue that she was faculty who had been here a few years. Still, she sounded young for that.

"Actually, my being here is probably my fault, I must have missed the buzzer and lost track of time. I shall be on..."

"No, you didn't, there was no warning buzzer. It should have happened during the first outage, but - surprise - the power was out. No power... no buzzer. No buzzer means no foul. I suppose we could look at the clock, but there is none in the shower, it is not in the budget... you see the problem? Look, we are both adults, faculty. We have probably seen pictures of people without clothes. I don't mind meeting like this, and frankly some company is welcome in the dark. Maybe I should mention, I came in here to cool off because I had a glass of wine. One glass. I'm not drunk or anything, but I get physically warm when I drink, so... this seemed like a good idea."

"I should go... Any idea how long the power..." I asked.

"Once a week it usually is out for 30 to 90 minutes. The university has a deal with the power company when they shift over from day to night modes. If I were you I would stay here, the dressing room is a minefield of benches and such." She was right about that.

"Well then, as long as you do not mind, I will be rational and stay put. Is the entire campus like this?"

"No, just this quad, with the old lecture halls from the 1950's. This building came 40 years later but the power company had a contact and insisted on including it, so... lights out. Hightower and the Student Center are on another account, a higher rate but no outages because they have elevators, none of our exalted leaders will climb eight flights of stairs. The dorms and the faculty buildings get power from the university power plant over the hill. The power company fought that tooth and nail. They get back at us like this."

I tried to keep her talking. "Do you happen to have a deck of cards? Perhaps an imaginary deck?" That got a laugh, and it seemed like she was coming closer.

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Chapter 3. Imagine No Cards

"Would you mind extending your arms toward me?" she asked. It seemed a reasonable request.

I did as she asked and she made contact. She ran her hands over my forearms which gave us both an idea on height. She seemed to be taller than I expected, right around my height. Muscular forearms too. She stopped there.

She asked, "That movie you mentioned... what is the most memorable scene for you?"

"From Last Tango? Well... the scene with Maria in her late father's military uniform is kind of sweet."

"Really? We are being adults here, remember? At that point you saw her wonderful young naked excess tits on display, plus she was fucked, sodomized by a man over twice her age, and masturbating for real on the set just to make a point. Nobody over the age of 12 thinks her daddy's uniform is the most memorable scene."

"Okay," I fessed up. "Well then, I confess that 'get the butter' is quite a line to capture the imagination. Brando delivers it perfectly. You see that scene once and it stays with you. All the sex scenes are memorable, Maria had quite the body at 18, but I think most would say the anal scene is the most memorable on so many levels. I mean, the age difference alone, she was just 18 and Brando was around 50 but he still did those physical moves. It held the attention."

"I agree. Let us put that aside for a moment." (That made me picture it - Maria's young large sagging tits, the anal sex and masturbation, it all looked so real. You can guess what happened below my waist.) The next words from her were hesitant. "I don't want to scare you, but I have an idea to pass the time that is better than imaginary cards. Do you know what Penthouse Letters are?"

"Of course... from the last century, the dark ages pre-disco. These days we have an internet..." That quip was not as clever as I hoped.

"Yeah, I know, but I wanted a distant reference so I would not date either of us... I found my great uncle's stash once, maybe he left it where I could find it, he flew a hot rod and may have considered my parents a little stuffy. I read them, devoured really, and since then I have always had a 'Penthouse' type of fantasy. Did you know that many were written by women?"

She said "flew a hot rod?" Whatever could that mean? I responded. "Yes, I have heard that somewhere... yes, it was on an 'Audible' program with Susie Bright. It is an interesting concept: women writing for men, expressing themselves freely in beautiful magazines vilified by other women. The old 'enemy is us' thing." I wondered where she was going.