This story is about an incident during my freshman year in college back in 1971. I was doing a rather mediocre job in my Sociology class when an observant professor made an interesting proposition. A proposition that only a sex-obsessed 18 year old kid would even consider.
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1. Struggling with Sociology.
Freshman year in college, circa 1971, found me in Colorado, which was a long way from my home in upstate New York. I had decided to go to the University of Colorado because of a great scholarship, NOT because I had already screwed every girl in New York State, as my friend Dave was fond of saying.
I was doing quite well both in and out of class, with the noticeable exception of Sociology, which for whatever reason escaped me despite my best efforts. Professor Richard was a decent enough guy, and one day after class I stuck around to ask what the chances were of my getting a little help or doing something for extra credit. It seemed a shame for me to miss the Dean's List because of this one class.
Professor Richard allowed me to redo a paper that I had botched, which helped quite a bit. We began conversing fairly regularly, and one day out of the blue the conversation turned to sex. While that was not that unusual a topic for me, it did shock me at first when he shifted a rather mundane conversation into an area I was not expecting.
"You have quite the reputation Kenneth," Professor Richard commented, looking and sounding much like Sebastian Cabot from the show Family Affair. A rotund man of average height, he had a thick black beard and piercing eyes that caused many of us to wither when he would challenge us.
"I do?" I asked, puzzled at what that could be referring to.
"From all I've heard, you must be a very busy young man," he said while looking at me over the eyeglasses that were perched on his nose. "You must be servicing half the young ladies on campus judging by the way they talk."
I blushed with embarrassment at this comment. Not that there wasn't a slight degree of truth to it, but there was something about hearing it from your teacher that gave it an eerieness I can't describe.
"I take your silence to be an affirmation of my statement Kenneth," Profesor Richard said with a chuckle. "Come now man, it's nothing to be ashamed of, but if reaches the point where I've heard of your exploits you must indeed be famous, or shall I say infamous?"
"I do like girls," I admitted sheepishly.
"And they you!" Professor Richard laughed, slapping me on the shoulder. "That busty brunette that sits to your left in class... Ms. Pierro. She's one of your conquests from what I've heard."
"I've been very lucky all my life," I said haltingly. "Maybe part of it is being discrete about it."
"Quite right and proper," he agreed. "Discretion is very important and I commend you for it. Ms. Pierro does not share that trait with you, which is how I found out about your considerable skills, as well as learning of your legendary... endowment, shall we say? She spoke very highly of you in those regards to one of my aides and I happened to overhear her."
I didn't know what to say so I pawed at the floor. What do you say when your male teacher starts talking about your cock? I was hoping that he wasn't going to come on to me, because although I may have had the reputation of humping everything that moved, my interests were strictly focused on women.
"I have what I consider to be an interesting proposition for you Kenneth," Professor Richard said in a lowered voice. "I respect your attitude towards those you may have been intimate with, and your discretion is the only reason I dare discuss such topics with you. Would you care to come to my home for dinner sometime this week?"
"Uh... yeah. Sure."
"Would Saturday night be possible?"
"Okay," I agreed, knowing that I would have to break a date to do this. Whatever "this" was.
"Splendid!" Professor Richard said with gusto, giving me his address and sending me on my way with another slap on the shoulder.
2. Saturday night dinner at the Professor's.
Professor Richard greeted me at the door of his house that Saturday night with a pipe in hand that brought Sherlock Holmes to mind, with the only difference being that he resembled Nigel Bruce's Watson more than Basil Rathbone's Holmes.
He brought me into his study, where he offered me a cognac. I accepted without knowing what it was, but it was alcohol, and while it did burn going down it also relaxed me a little. Professor Richard showed me his collection of books, which covered a wide range of authors, their only common ground being that they were irreplaceable first editions.
After our drink Professor Richard led me into the dining room, where two elaborate place settings awaited us, complete with candles burning in elegant holders. This was an impressive show he was putting on for me, and while it was certainly nothing I was used to, I appreciated the display. All I had to do now was find out what this was leading up to.
Professor Richard sat opposite me at this lavishly arranged dining room table and rang a little bell. From behind me I heard a door swing open and I sensed the presence of someone entering the room, followed by the unmistakable aroma of perfume.
The woman wearing the perfume came around my left side with a tray that carried two bowls of soup. The soup I noticed much later, because my attention was elsewhere. The woman carrying the tray was an incredibly attractive woman I guessed to be in her thirties. The uniform she wore was a skimpy little black french maid's outfit that left very little to the imagination.
The french maid touch contrasted greatly with the woman, who had oriental features. Not having met very many people from that part of the world, I cursed myself for my ignorance but guessed she was of Japanese descent and could only hope that the Professor would help me out.
"Kenneth, this is Aiko," Professor Richard announced. "Aiko will be serving us this evening."
"Welcome Kenneth," Aiko said as she bowed to me before serving the soup. "It is an honor to have you with us this evening."
I stammered something lame and forgettable as I tried not to stare at this tiny angel who seemed to glide around the room. She was so petite and delicate looking that I felt guilty gawking at her incredibly shapely legs as she went over to Professor Richard to serve him.
Her butt was pert and firm looking as she bent over with it facing me, and I took the opportunity to rearrange my cock, which had become most energized by the sight of Aiko. Her beautiful and clear white skin was made ever more so by the contrast of her jet black hair, and that incredible petite body had me breaking into a sweat by the time she left the room.
"How do you like the soup Kenneth?" Professor Richard inquired, clearly noticing that I hadn't paid a bit of attention to it, although it had smelled good.
"Oh, uh... fine," I managed to get out. "That's quite a uniform your maid has on there."
"I'm pleased you like it, and apparently you were pleased with the woman wearing it as well."
"Well yes, she's beautiful," I told Professor Richard after tasting the soup before it congealed.
"I'm glad that you have an attraction toward older women," Professor Richard noted. "So many males only have eyes for the younger females these days, but they miss out on a great number of treasures when they do."
If the Professor knew that I had spent my previous summer having sex with two neighborhood women more than twice my age, he would have known that I hadn't yet met a woman that was too old for me to find attractive.
"How old is Aiko?" I asked. "Thirty?" I guessed, expecting to be a couple years low out of courtesy.
"Here she is now Kenneth, why don't you ask her yourself?" the Professor said as he motioned toward Aiko, who had just come back into the room with salads.
"I dunno, that seems kind of..."
