I'm honestly not sure how realistic this chapter is, but I think it is fun, with some weirdish sex, so enjoy. Regardless of how plausible it is, it is certainly ridiculous, so keep that in mind as you read!
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Sylvan Courtyard -- Seven: The New Workout Craze
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I had remained at Mandy's until almost 10:30 that night. It had been almost dangerous driving back home to Sylvan Courtyard, I was so exhausted. Going on nine straight hours of astoundingly educational sex, with only breaks to accomodate two cups of tea, one small plate of cheese, and one glass of sherry, will take it out of a guy.
The next day, Thursday, I found that my mentor had a grant presentation in Dallas, so I would not have a chance to see him until Friday. That morning, I swept into his office as early as I could. First and foremost I had to address my readiness to defend my dissertation. But almost as important, for a number of reasons, I needed to tell him what had happened. I didn't really believe that Mandy would actually tell him herself, but I sure as hell was going to fess up, and as early as possible, so he would hear it from me first if she did decide to drop a bomb on him at some point about what we had done.
"Hello, Ken," he said as I knocked on his door. He did not look up from the two data charts he had on his desk before him, frowning as he looked back and forth between them. He simply waved me to a seat on the other side of his desk.
"Are our results still not reconciling?" I asked, curiously.
"No, they are not," he said mildly, still looking down. "And I am convinced that that is telling me something important," he muttered. He went on to ignore me for a bit. This was not unusual at times when I dropped in and he was wrestling with something that pissed him off.
Suddenly, his fist shot out over the desk in my direction and hung there in mid-air. He waggled it impatiently a second later.
"Huh?" I said, reaching out to bump my knuckles against his. "Did you just figure out the problem?"
"No," he snorted, but he leaned back in his chair. "The fistbump was for you. I hear congratulations are in order."
Wait. She had called him while he was
out of town
to tell him she had screwed his favorite? What sort of one-upmanship were these two into?
"I'm sure you came in here to ask me where I think you are regarding your dissertation, and if you could possibly defend it in the time you'd need for that Colorado job," he went on blithely, causing a record scratch in my mind.
"Yessir," I said, barely missing a beat.
"You haven't called me sir in years, Ken. Don't get nervous in the homestretch," he said dismissively.
Then he proceeded to detail to me that I was indeed in the homestretch. My research was done. Complete. And so was my dissertation, at least in principle. I still had formatting and illustration to complete, but that was a matter of detail. He had just reread my current draft on the flight home, and while it still needed polishing, it looked very good. "More importantly, the state of your work now shows the depth of your understanding of what you've proven. That's the part that will earn you your doctorate. By the time you finish editing and focusing the manuscript, and maybe rewrite section four entirely, I think you will be ready."
He looked at me with a friendly yet cruel grin. "In fact, I have just this morning scheduled you for your defense on September 30. You will need to kick some ass be ready."
"Wow! That's... fast," I said breathlessly.
Reality set in then, as it usually does. "But... this all seems pretty presumptuous of us, doesn't it? I mean, I've checked out the program there. It's small, but no slouch. And Colorado, especially in the mountains, is one of the places I have identified as a major preference to work. The position seems ideal for me. But am I really going to be ideal for them? I mean, I haven't even contacted them yet. All we have is the news that the opportunity exists, from a friend of the professor leaving."
"I'm glad to see you don't have stars in your eyes, Ken," my mentor said, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers as he was wont to do. "But what kind of mentor would I be if I let that pain-in-the-ass-on-wheels do all the work of finding you a home for the future? Fortunately for my status as your favorite, while She knows the professor there who is leaving,
I
have two papers in common and am currently working on a third with the chairman of their department."
Oh.
My.
"Let's just say that I spoke with him yesterday. At length. If you live up to my billing, he thinks you are the ideal solution for him, and in more ways than one. You are a darned near perfect fit for what he needs, and more importantly, he won't have to do a lot of work to find you. Fair warning, the guy is unreasonably brilliant but never met a shortcut he didn't want to take. Just make sure he keeps thinking that
you
are that shortcut."
I sat there, stunned. Things were moving fast, even faster than the day before. I had a great opportunity, but a lot of understandable doubts about whether I could measure up. "Wow," was all I said.
"I'm confident you can do this, Ken. All of it. But it is going to take some work and discipline." He paused. "You'll need to sit at your desk quite a bit for a while. I hope your ass isn't too sore. I mean, I hope it's sore, just not too sore."
The fact was, my butt cheeks were a little delicate even now, with the physical memory of Mandy's passionate fingernails. But... I was back to confused about what he had been fist-bumping me for.
He laughed. "If she didn't scratch you up, you did a bad job, boy. And she did not sound, from the subtext, like you did a bad job. I think she wanted to claim that you were better than me, but there was no way she was pulling that off with a straight face."
I am fairly sure I gave a brief masterclass in imitating a big-mouth bass, before I rallied. "I think I gave a good accounting of myself," I said, with a haughty air that his demeanor told me I could get away with. "My back is still sore too."
"Ha! Nice. Have you looked at yourself?"
"Um. No."
"Pull up your shirt, I want to see," he said.
"Huh?" I said, intelligently. But, because I owed him everything already, and was about to owe him more, I shrugged and tugged up the back of my golf shirt while turning away.
"Damn..." I heard him hiss. "You ought to get some ointment on those."
*
"Well, well, well," I mused as I reached the parking lot, heading out to my truck early the next morning. I had more calls to make to Colorado over the next week, and I was putting myself back on a seven-day-a-week work schedule forthwith, to get myself ready.
Okay, it was Summer. They weren't going to be seven
full
days...
My sudden morning smugness realted to other matters, because, as I got out to the parking lot, I saw, parked about ten cars from mine, the little orange hatchback that I recognized as Patty's pride(?) and joy. It was still very early that morning and there was a thick coat dew on her vehicle...
I smiled, though I was sure it was not as satisfied a smile as the one Jesse likely sported currently.
I spent a solid four hours refining my imagery at the lab before I felt virtuous enough to head back to the Courtyard. It was an excruciatingly nice day, and I suspected everyone, despite no scheduled event, would be around the pool.
All work, no play, dull boy. You get my motivation.
I waved at several friends as I entered the courtyard. People were getting an early jump on sun time by the pool. With an eager bounce in my step, I went up the stairs and swiftly changed into some nice board shorts. I grabbed a camp shirt but didn't put it on. I had a pretty good tan already and wanted to get some more sun before I donned it. With that, I grabbed a six-pack of beer good enough to share with the right people and headed back down, barefoot.
I wandered out into the sunshine and looked for some conversation. I started with a nice discussion on the surprisingly positive season so far for the Cincinnati Reds with Robert and Frank. We all had an unaccountable fondness for the Reds, despite none of us ever living in Ohio. But both of them had not been so wise and foresighted, beer-wise, as I, and got thirsty. I chose not to grant them a third of my beverages, and they did not ask, but they both went to grab some from their own apartments.
I turned and approached a massively more scenic, if not necessarily more entertaining, group consisting of Jane, Rhonda, and Mimi. Mimi was an undergraduate, and Jane and Rhonda were dispensing life advice... old crones of 26 like they were. As such, it was not a riveting conversation for me, but I hung around politely. Also, I hung around because in recent days I had come to believe that Mimi had at some point gotten an understated boob job, and in the bikini she wore this day, I felt I now had confirmation of that, right before my eyes. Thus I kept my eyes where they were for a spell.
You know... just to re-confirm my results.
But, given the fact that the conversation revealed that she had already hooked up somewhat seriously with another tenant down her way, and the fact that nice as they were, there were plenty of other wonderful tits to look at around the pool, I soon turned to move on.