The following is a bit of a departure for me. Although I have often collaborated with friends of mine (all female) to bring their sex-ventures to life, this time my partner-in-crime is my own dear husband: Aaron. The story is his, told from his point of view. I hope you like it.
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It happened during my senior year in college. I had just turned twenty-two. She had just celebrated her thirty-first. By all things ethical, what we did was wrong. There was no denying it. I was on the verge of having a complete (academic) meltdown. She was trying to get over catching her fiancé in bed with another woman. She was my advisor, and professor. I was her student. In today's world, it probably wouldn't be a big deal, but back in the early eighties . . . well . . .
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I checked my watch. It was a couple minutes of two. I took a deep breath, then started down the hallway to Miss Sabrina Cohen's office. Her door was half-open, but I knocked anyway.
"Come in."
"You wanted to see me, Miss Cohen?"
"I did, Mr Samuels. Step inside. Close the door."
I did as told.
"Sit down."
Nervously, I lowered myself onto the seat reserved for guests; or those about to learn what fate had in store. Sabrina Cohen spun in her desk chair. My eyes darted to her sexy legs. She caught me looking and crossed her left over right. I tried to avert my stare, but couldn't. As a tease, she caressed the hem of her pastel blue dress up and over her knee, revealing the tops of her white stockings.
"Mr Samuels?"
I forced myself to make eye contact. As soon as I did, she began playing with her necklace. The motion redirected my attention. This time, to her inviting cleavage.
"You sure are easily distracted today." she said.
"Yes Miss Cohen."
Once more, I forced myself to make eye contact. Another mistake. Instantly I was lost in those beautiful blue pools.
She broke contact just long enough to retrieve a folder from her desk.
"Aaron, I just finished grading your Advanced I final, and I have good news and bad news; though in my opinion, it's all good news."
"I'm not sure I understand."
"The good news is, your grade was a ninety one. The bad news, you needed a ninety five to get an 'A' for the course."
My heart sank. The tears began to flow. I came undone. "That's it. There goes my perfect grade average."
Sabrina stood, walked over to me and put her arm around my shoulder. "This could be the best thing that ever happened to you." she said.
"How do you figure?!" I sobbed.
Sabrina returned to her chair and crossed her legs once more. This time, she left the hem of her skirt alone. "Aaron, in today's job market, employers are looking for good accountants who can solve problems, and understand that perfection is an illusion. Not someone who's so obsessed with maintaining their grade point average as to loose sight of what's important.
"Do you understand?"
I wiped away the tears and sighed. "I suppose."
"There's no supposing."
I slouched down in the chair. "Miss Cohen, is there anything I can do to bring my grade up?"
"You know better than to ask that."
"Please?"
Sabrina began playing with her necklace again. My stare focused.
"Even if there was, it wouldn't matter." she said, "I turned grades in just before lunch."
"I see."
She uncrossed her legs, then crossed them again with the other on top. She wriggled her foot to free her black, high-heeled shoe, and let it dangle from her toes. Slowly, she rotated her ankle. Try as I might, I couldn't help but watch the show.
Suddenly, her ankle stilled. I raised my eyes to meet hers. As before, I instantly fell under her spell.
"Aaron, I want you to come over to my apartment tonight." she said softly, continuing to hold me captive, "There are a few things we need to talk about. A few things you need to understand."
She picked up pen and paper and wrote. Handed me the sheet. "Here's the address. Be there at seven sharp."
I took the paper from her hand. "Okay. Seven sharp . . ."
*****************
I pulled up in front of the very modern vestibule that gave entry to the very primitive converted warehouse, and checked the address. "This is the place." I said aloud, "Not what I expected."
An ancient bell in the humble church across the street began to strike the hour of seven. I waited, as the final toll faded away. A part of me wanted to leave, and never look back. Another; to see it through. I stood there for the longest time, waiting. For what? To this day, I'm not sure.
"Let's go." I said at a whisper.
With a determined breath, I got out of the car and entered the vestibule. Before I could search which buzzer to press, Miss Cohen's voice came over the intercom.
"Don't keep me waiting, Aaron."
A loud 'click' and the door leading in drifted open. "I mean it."
I entered, and approached the tired-looking freight elevator. Pressed the button, and waited. The heavy doors rolled open. I stepped inside and pressed the button for the third floor. The doors rolled shut. With a rumble, the car moved upward, then lurched to a stop.
Another wait before they rolled open. I stepped out, and turned left, per instruction. At the end of the hall, a heavy, well-worn oak door with the faded stencil that read: "Storage 3A".
Summoning my courage, I reached for the weighty brass knocker. For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to touch it. 'What is wrong with me?!' I wondered. 'Why am I so afraid? Why am I here? What does she want to tell me? My shot at perfection is gone. She made that quite clear. Grades are in. It's a done deal. So why am I here? What does she want?!'
There was only one way to find out. I reached out lifted the knocker and let it fall. Again. Again.
A moment, maybe two passed before she answered.
"Hello Aaron, I'm glad you decided to come."
My eyes scanned her quickly. The modest dress she had worn earlier was gone; replaced by a very skimpy, very short, black one. Her stockings too were gone, though she still had on those devastating black heels.
"Won't you come in?"
Miss Cohen, Sabrina, turned, walked over to the couch and sat down. I closed the door, and looked around the sparsely furnished room. Part of me wanted to sit next to her. Another told me to take the chair opposite.
I listened to the latter.
Sabrina smiled; crossed her right leg over her left; then stretched her left arm out across the back of the couch, while letting her right, sink into the pillow next to her.
A long moment passed. Unable to resist, I studied her. Every curve. Every swell. For the first time, I realized just how beautiful she truly was. Now don't get me wrong; many times before I had enjoyed a fleeting glimpse of her nicely shaped butt, her inviting cleavage; and yes, those dynamite legs; but never had I found or made the time to take in the whole picture.
Sabrina brought her left arm down and rested it in her lap. "Aaron, I know how important it was for you to maintain that most holy of grails. But."
Her words brought me back to the moment.
"When I was a junior," she continued, "I was in the same spot as you are. Were. The grades had come easily and I decided perfection was mine, if I wanted it. I convinced myself that all I had to do was put out the effort, and magically I'd become part of that elite few. It would be that simple."
Her tone turned wistful. "Before I knew it, I'd told my boyfriend to take a hike, and my girlfriends to quit inviting me to parties, because studying was more important. In short, I woke up one morning and found I had no life."
She uncrossed her legs, folded her hands in her lap and leaned forward. "Fortunately, just before mid-terms of the spring semester, I was taken out by a mild case of pneumonia. Which is a bit of an oxymoron.
"Anyway, two hard earned Bs put and end to my quest; and, gave me my life back."
"Do you ever regret it?" I asked, truly wanting; no, needing to know.
"Every now and again. Especially when I realize that the encouragement I try and give my students is leading them down the same path."
"Like with me?"
She nodded, and absentmindedly bit her lower lip.
"It's one thing to encourage someone to do their best." she said softly; seductively, "It's quite another to sit back and do nothing when that encouragement turns into fuel for an obsession.
"Aaron, I shouldn't have let you go on as long as I did. This time last year, I saw where you were headed, and just let you keep going. What I should have done, is sat down with you and shared what I just shared."
"It wouldn't have done any good." I said, "This time last year, I wasn't anywhere near ready to concede defeat."
"And now? How do you feel about the battle being over?" she asked.
"Relieved."
Sabrina smiled the warmest, most inviting smile. "I was hoping you'd say that."
