Finals were finally in the box. In my nighttime research class students present an oral research project as part of their final. To insure that there is an audience on the final night of the presentations, I place a heavy penalty against unexcused absence. The penalty for this summer was that a student missing the final night would receive a zero for their own score – hence no absences. Well, no absences except for April.
April was a young divorce student trying to get a college education while working full time in a local rest home. Although her mother lived very close to the campus, April preferred to rent a room from an elderly woman in town. I guessed the relationship with her mother was not going well as April occasionally came to class complaining about her mother's latest antic.
I had been working in my office for about an hour when April appeared at my door.
"Doctor Browne."
I looked up. "April, where were you tonight?"
She ducked her head. "I had to work, someone called in sick."
One thing I have learned in years of teaching is that students bring in that excuse when they have overslept, or just decide to cut class for any number of reasons. "Oh."
April was one of those people someone would not notice in a crowd, a non-descript woman, who looked like a teenager but was in her mid twenties. Some of her plain look was probably due to the medical smock she constantly wore. A couple of excess pins in her eyebrows and tongue also presented a youthful image.
"Really, Doctor Browne, I was on the floor until seven thirty. Then I had to run by mother's to give her some money before I came over here."
I knew from previous complaints that her mother was probably an alcoholic living off the contributions of her daughter. "Hmm, well, you might have called."
April stood in silence; I could tell that wasn't the response for which she was looking. Finally, she said, "can we get a cup of coffee?"
I glanced at the clock. At nine fifty p.m. the security guard would come by and tell me I needed to clear the building. New security rules on our campus kept our building locked down tightly; I always found it humorous until we had a rash of bomb threats. "Okay, I have to leave the building in a few minutes anyway. We can go over to Mac's." The small café near our campus served breakfast starting at midnight. Until the factory workers came in it was mostly frequented by late night partiers on their way home.
"Do you think you could give me a ride? I kinda let my mother use my car, I told her I would pick it up later, I could walk over there from the campus."
I stood and pulled my car keys from my pocket. "You'd walk over there at night?"
Damn hole in my pocket, I bet my change is scattered all over campus.
April smiled. "Not usually, but I figured I could con a ride."
I shook my head. "You're lucky I am even in." For the first time I noticed how much taller I was than her. "Listen, I need to run by an ATM before we have coffee, do you want me to drop you at your mother's for your car?" I reached my hand back in my pocket, the hole was big enough to put three fingers through, my keys had been hanging by a thread. I pulled the pocket out. "Whole in pocket, I've probably bought sodas for everyone on campus."
"No, I'll ride with you; mom won't have the car back till late. Ready?" She stepped into the hallway.
Minutes later we were on our way off of campus.
As I turned the corner to head for Mac's April said, "Would you mind terribly running me by Mrs. Dunn's, I need to change out of this hospital stuff and into real clothes."
"Where to?"
My begrudgingly tone didn't seem to bother April. "Turn right on Queen, left on first, then right again on Randolph. We're at 623 on top of the hill. Don't worry I'll tell you when to stop."
My little jeep made it through the late evening traffic and soon we were climbing the Randolph hill – a favorite sledding hill in the fifties, commercialism had since taken over the neighborhood and the one opulent family homes were now mostly doctor's offices and real estate companies.
"Right here." April pointed to a narrow driveway of a Victorian home. "I live in the garage apartment in back."
I pulled the Jeep to the back of the darkened house and turned off the motor.
"Come on up, I may be a sec, there's beer in the frig." She raced around the Jeep.
I'm sure the beer line had been used to attract many a young suitor, I was more into period wines in my middle age.
By the time I exited the vehicle April was at my door. "Let me see that pocket, I can probably sew it for you in a jif."
"April, that really won't be necessary, just change your clothes and we can be headed out again." My protest was short lived. She thrust her hand in my pocket and found the hole and at the same time found my soft cock which began to respond with the touch of her fingers. "Uh, April."
She laughed as we walked along. "Don't worry Doctor B, I won't hurt it."
She took her hand out of my pocket when we climbed the stairs to her apartment. She quickly unlocked the door. "Beer's in the frig, help yerself."
"I'm fine." I lied, the bulge in my pants had grown full.
April laughed and pulled off her smock. Her small tits jiggled as she walked toward me. "Give me your pants." She pushed me lightly and I fell backward into a soft couch.
"Hadn't you better change clothes first? It would be terrible to stick a needle in those nice breasts." I about bit my tongue. I hadn't noticed the pin through the soft nipple flesh of her left breast.
She held up her breast. "Like this one? You're so funny." She knelt down and pulled off my shoes. In the summer time I rarely wore socks and that night was no exception. Then she reached up and unfastened my belt, grabbed my pants by the cuffs and zipped them off of my bare bottom. My cock had risen to full erection and stood there isolated on my body. "Cool," she cooed.
