A Professor Living Dangerously

Katherine Dennison-Kupersmith felt that a huge weight had been lifted from her being. A recent hire as an Assistant Professor in the School of Social Sciences at a prestigious southern university, she had been struggling for months to identify a field of research that would differentiate her from the rest of the younger staff and put her on a solid tenure track. Finally, she felt like she had landed on something interesting and was certain there was little published research on the topic. In academia, it was "publish or perish", but she hated the way her colleagues would regurgitate the same old concepts in slightly modified form to appease the beast.

Katherine realized how fortunate she had been to land her position. She had been up against three other well-qualified candidates any of whom would have been a solid selection, but it was a position she wanted badly so she had immersed herself in preparation learning about the department faculty and their individual areas of expertise. During the interviews, she conversed with each member of the search committee in-depth on their interests, which she felt certain had been the deciding factor.

Since her husband of three years had a position as an attorney with one of the better firms in the city, landing the position had been even more of an imperative. There was no way he would have wanted to move, and given the difference in their incomes, she knew it would have made little sense. She was thankful that it was an issue avoided.

Katherine called her husband Jeff on his cell phone with a gushing voice and talked him into leaving early to go to dinner. She loved him deeply, but the required work hours of a new attorney were outrageous and she had been spending way too many nights dealing with an exhausted man. However, now with her own mission, she thought the free time might actually prove to be a benefit.

Katherine had been waiting at the table in their favorite restaurant for twenty minutes when Jeff finally showed up offering his apologies as he sat.

"I can't wait to hear the news," he said with a sincere smile.

Her struggle with finding a direction to take her research had made living with her difficult for the past few months, so he was thrilled that she had apparently decided on something. Just as Katherine was about to speak, the waiter came for their drink orders, and it was all she could do to hold back until he left.

"Okay, so I think I've found something that's interesting and fresh," she said, bubbling with enthusiasm.

"Tell me. I'm dying to hear," Jeff replied, equally enthusiastic.

"Okay, well you know I've been looking to link the work I've done in emotional intelligence with my interest in disadvantaged women's issues?" she asked, knowing he had heard her describe it many times before.

"Yes, go ahead," Jeff encouraged.

"So, what I'm thinking is to research the lives of young women who participate in the sex trade. Now I know that others have looked at this before, but I want to look into the impact of emotional intelligence on outcome and modifications that may occur over time," she explained.

"So, you want to see how a woman becomes a better hooker?" Jeff replied.

The instant the words left his mouth he knew he had screwed up and Katherine's glare confirmed it. She quietly took a sip of her Cosmopolitan before speaking.

"You're not getting it," she said with dripping sarcasm.

"Look I'm sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. You're right though. I'm not sure I do get it completely, but I'm just an attorney not a Ph.D. in these things," he answered, trying to dig out of the hole.

"Don't be patronizing," Katherine said, and Jeff could tell she was growing frustrated.

"How are you going to research the topic? I mean how do you find subjects and how do you get them to talk to you?" he asked, trying to move past his faux pas.

"I'm not completely sure. It's something I will have to work out," she replied.

"But you think this is a new area. I mean something that hasn't been picked over by others?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. I just looked some this afternoon but I found very little and there was nothing with the emotional intelligence angle," Katherine answered, practically jumping from her seat as her enthusiasm returned.

The couple had a delicious dinner with Jeff avoiding any sensitive subjects so his wife could enjoy her evening. It seemed to him her concept had some flaws, but since he wasn't an academic, and he felt it was logical there would be a process in developing the idea, he didn't probe. After dinner, they went straight home and tore each other's clothes off on the way to bed. Katherine could be an intensely passionate lover, but, unfortunately, she had recently become so consumed by work issues that their lovemaking had become flat. It drove Jeff crazy when she didn't reach an orgasm and despite all his efforts, it was becoming the norm. However, this evening she was totally engaged and her body was sensitive and responsive. She climaxed with her arms and legs wrapped around him with whines of pleasure coming from her mouth, and then quickly fell asleep in his arms.

Jeff and Katherine had met when he was a second-year law student and she was starting her Ph.D. program. Within three months they were living together, balancing their student life and the blossoming romance. When Jeff graduated and found a good job, he moved to the city ahead of her while she finished school and completed her dissertation. It had been a hard two years, only seeing each other about once a month, but it did make both feel that their relationship was worth continuing. A month after Katherine finished, they were married in a nice ceremony, and then she concentrated on finding a job. Landing the professor position had been an absolute dream come true.

Katherine had originally caught Jeff's eye during a party at a friend's place. He demanded an introduction from a mutual acquaintance, and he dominated her time for most of the evening. Even though she was in a relationship they went out the next weekend and after that were basically a couple. All their friends thought they made the perfect pair as both were attractive, intelligent and ambitious, and they quickly became devoted to each other.

Katherine always attracted lots of male attention. She was a slender, raven-haired beauty of 5'7" with long legs and perfect C-cup breasts that stood high on her chest. A youngish looking twenty-seven, her dark brown eyes, cute dimples, and juicy lips always made men melt.

She had been with three other men before Jeff. Two were long term boyfriends but the other was a one-night stand because of too much to drink, and while she had told her husband about the two boyfriends, she had not admitted to the third. To her, Jeff was an attractive, physical person with a caring personality, but he was also a highly intelligent man she could respect. He stood right at 6' tall and weighed 180 pounds, his hair was medium brown, and his mischievous smile usually disarmed her.

Over the next month, Katherine developed her research plan outlining further areas of interest and data she wanted to collect. The one continuing problem was how to get cooperation and interaction with her subjects. She thought about putting ads in underground newspapers offering money for participation in a survey but her mentor, an older woman that was a full professor, was adamant that the best way to collect the data was in the field.

"I know she's right, I just don't know how to go about it," she said to Jeff one evening.

"That sounds like it could be dangerous," he replied, worried that in her zeal she might lose perspective.

Another month went by and Katherine was becoming more and more frustrated. Every plan she came up with to gather the field data had holes in it she couldn't overcome.

"You have to help me," she barked at her husband one evening after she had spent over an hour describing all the difficulties she was facing.

"I would if I knew how. What do you want me to do?" he answered sympathetically.

"I don't know. Find me a contact I can talk to," she replied.

"A contact?" Jeff asked, confused by what she meant.

"Yes. Someone that works in the sex trade. Someone that knows their way around," she clarified.

"Well, honey, I don't know anyone like that," he responded.

"Well, you're a lawyer, aren't you? Don't lawyers deal with criminals?" Katherine challenged.

Jeff didn't respond immediately. He knew she was very frustrated by her inability to move forward with her project, so he pulled her close, put his arm around her, and said, "You know I'm a contracts attorney, not a criminal one. But let me think about how to do this."

Jeff did think about it over the next few days and finally contacted his friend Clark that worked at a law firm that specialized in criminal defense. He explained what Katherine was seeking to do as best he understood and asked for information on who in the city would be good to approach.

"Well, the guy that comes to mind when you explain the goal is Little Sam Taylor. He owns a couple of strip clubs in town and the girls there also turn tricks. But, damn Jeff, this is some really dangerous stuff. I would highly recommend that your wife find some other way to do her research," Clark explained.

"I know. It worries me too. But she is consumed by this whole thing right now. Hopefully, when she sees what she had to deal with she will come to her senses. Do you know this Taylor guy?" Jeff responded.

"I've never met him, but one of my colleagues has represented him," he answered.

"Could you get me his contact info?" Jeff asked.

"Let me see what I can do," his friend replied.

It took three days before Clark called back with Sam Taylor's cell phone number. Once again, he explained to Jeff the dangers of what was being proposed and tried to talk him into dropping the idea and finding another way. Jeff thanked him and assured his friend he would look into things before telling Katherine. He didn't immediately call, but after several more days of dealing with his wife's miserable disposition, he reluctantly dialed the number.

"Yes?" a deep voice came over the line.

"Uh, Mr. Taylor...Uh, you don't know me, but I was given your number by a mutual acquaintance and I wondered if I could bother you to meet with me and discuss something?' Jeff said, stumbling through his words while realizing that explaining what his wife wanted to do would be difficult.

"Who the fuck is this?" Sam Taylor demanded.

"Uh, Mr. Taylor my name is Jeff Kupersmith and like I said I'm just seeking to meet with you for a few minutes to discuss something," he answered.

"What kind of something?" he asked, suspiciously.

"It's really difficult to explain over the phone, but I promise it will only take a few minutes if we could meet," Jeff asked again, able now to speak more clearly.

"Come to the club at nine," he replied quickly and hung up.

Jeff's friend had explained that Little Sam Taylor ran his business from a club on South Bayshore Blvd so he assumed that was where the meeting would take place. He worked late before going to the meeting, wanting to avoid his wife, as he felt it was too early to share what was transpiring. Jeff had been in the city long enough to know that the area where the club was located was seedy and frequented by a less desirable class of people, and on the drive, he felt his stomach knotting with nervousness over what he might encounter. He had led a fairly privileged life and had experienced very few interactions with this level of society.

He found the club without difficulty and turned into the poorly lit parking lot. Since there were only a few cars, he found a spot close to the door. Through the walls of the building, Jeff could hear a heavy bass beat that hit him like a wave when he opened the heavy metal door.

"Five dollars," an overweight Hispanic girl in a too-tight dress said.

He paid the cover then asked her over the music, "I have an appointment with Mr. Taylor at nine. Can you tell me where to find him?"

"Ask at the bar," the girl replied while smacking gum, and Jeff couldn't help but glance at her large glitter-covered breasts that heaved from the top.

As soon as he entered the main area of the club, he saw it was a large room with two stages. One was in the center of the room and had a young black girl with a large ass dancing on it wearing a g-string and a bikini top. Like her ass, her breasts were pronounced and spilled out from the covering. She seemed disinterested and oblivious to the few customers inside. The other stage was at the back, and while the lights were flashing from the rack overhead, it was empty. Scattered around the room he could see a half dozen girls in skimpy attire. Several were talking to the patrons while the others chatted at a table in the back.

"I'm looking for Mr. Taylor," Jeff announced when he reached the bar.

The bartender, a heavyset man with his long hair pulled into a ponytail, didn't respond but walked to the end of the bar and stepped into a side room. He was gone for several minutes and when he returned, he nodded towards the door. Jeff walked to the end of the bar and stepped into a small room he could see was set up like an office with a desk and two chairs against the wall. Sitting at the desk was a large black man that eyed him up, and then nodded towards the chairs.

"Now, what you want?" the man asked.

"Are you Sam Taylor?" Jeff replied.

"I damn sure am," he replied, gruffly.

Jeff was immediately struck by the misnomer of the word "little" to describe the man. Even sitting, Jeff could tell he was well over six feet tall and in excess of two hundred pounds. Wearing black slacks and a dark blue silk shirt, he looked to be about forty and had a large barrel chest, thick arms, close-cropped hair, and a beard. His nose looked like it had been broken at least once and one of his cheeks had a rough texture that might have come from acne scarring. He gave Jeff a dismissive look like he was wasting his precious time.

"Mr. Taylor thanks for taking the time to meet with me. I know you're busy and I promise to go fast. My wife is a professor at a local university and is interested in doing research on women that work in clubs like yours. I've come to see if letting her spend some time with the girls is something you would consider," Jeff said.

He was following a script he had thought through that he hoped would pique some interest, and had intentionally stayed away from mentioning prostitution as he thought it might scare him off.

"What the fuck? Are you fucking shitting me?" Sam Taylor replied, looking at Jeff like he was an idiot.

"Well no uh, actually I'm uh..." Jeff stammered, having lost his confidence with the outburst.

"How did you find me?" Sam Taylor demanded, cutting him off.

He explained that he was a lawyer and had been recommended by a friend at the firm that had represented him. He hoped he wasn't out of line divulging his source, but Sam Taylor's booming voice and physical presence made it hard to think. Fortunately, as he explained how he made contact, using the names of the lawyers at the firm, he seemed to soften.

"Now start over again and tell me what you want," he directed the young attorney.

Jeff started from scratch and tried to explain, going slower this time and adding more detail. Sam just stared at him as he spoke giving no hint about what he was thinking. When he had finished, he remained quiet for a long time making the young man uncomfortable before he finally spoke.

"Where's your wife? How come she ain't here?" he asked.

"Well, as you can appreciate, I wanted to see things for myself before she got involved," he answered.

"It's her deal ain't it? Taylor shot back.

"Yes, it is but...," he started before he was cut off again.

"Bring her here next Monday. Same time," he stated, then turned away.

Jeff sat there stunned for several seconds then rose and left the office barely looking at the others as he exited the club. On the drive home, he debated whether to tell Katherine about the meeting and by the time he had pulled into the driveway, he had convinced himself it was best to forget the whole thing.

He found his wife in bed watching TV when he got inside. He could tell she was feeling depressed as she barely spoke to him as he passed her to go to the closet to change. He climbed into bed naked hoping to initiate some lovemaking, but she pushed him away when he tried to embrace her.

"Please, not tonight," she said, staring at the television.

Jeff flopped onto his back and looked at the screen feeling resentment at her rejection and the impact her obsession with her project was having on their lives. Finally, with a mixture of frustration and trepidation, he told her about Little Sam Taylor and the meeting he had just attended.

"Oh my God, are you kidding? Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Katherine said, almost jumping out of bed when she realized the extent of what her husband was describing.

"Well, I wasn't sure it was the right thing. I'm still not sure," he replied.

"It sounds good so far. Keep going," she demanded.

Jeff explained every detail until he ended by telling her about the demand from Sam Taylor to meet with her the following Monday.

"Okay, that sounds perfect. I can be done with work and run some errands and then we can go," she said, showing no concern for the safety issues Jeff had tried to explain as he was describing the club.

Katherine snuggled close to her naked husband and rubbed his chest beneath the covers before letting her hand descend to his shaft. She fondled him lightly, quickly bringing his cock to a full erection.

"Thank you, sweetie," she purred in his ear and then kissed his neck.

Jeff was content to let her do the work for the time being and Katherine didn't disappoint. She quickly pulled her clothes off then returned to his side, this time with her uncovered breasts pushed against his chest while she playfully stroked his cock. Then with a smile, she disappeared beneath the covers until he felt her juicy lips sliding over his erection.

"Ummm..." he let out, arching his back as his wife's wet mouth descended.

The next morning over coffee the young husband recalled the lovemaking with his wife thinking it had been some of the best sex they had ever experienced. When in the mood, Katherine was an equally enthusiastic giver and receiver of pleasure and he loved it when he could turn her on and see her let go. Last night had been spectacular and he was already looking forward to the next time.

On Monday, she sat in the passenger seat, eager with anticipation, as they drove towards the seedy bar. Jeff had tried to explain to her the condition of the place, and the inherent danger she would be facing, but she would have none of it. To her, it was a chance to finally advance her research and achieve the things in her academic career she felt were important. He noticed the distressed look on her face when they pulled into the parking lot and she got a look at the place, but she quickly pulled herself together, and they entered the building.

Inside, waiting for Sam Taylor to meet with them, Katherine got to look around. When she saw the girls working inside, her spirits picked up as she felt they were exactly the data source she was seeking. There were fewer than she expected, so she might have a sample size problem, but at least it was a step in the right direction. After a ten-minute wait, they were told to go to Sam Taylor's small office. He stayed seated as they entered, and directed them to sit. Jeff had told his wife to wear simple clothes for the meeting and she had selected jeans and a white blouse. He was glad he had done so because now he could see that Sam was sizing up his wife.