For Professor Charles Black, teaching at a large university meant he had access to an endlessly changing supply of young coeds easily seduced by his charismatic classroom presence, and the sight of his lean, muscular body encased in jeans, open-necked shirts, and sport jackets carefully tailored to emphasize his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The stories of his prowess in bed, passed from roommate to roommate, or friend to friend, made him even more appealing to young women eager to affirm their own sexuality, or demonstrate their rebelliousness. Recently, Rachel Gold, a senior apparently still basking in the warm afterglow of a long night in the professor's bed, could not resist telling her academic advisor in the chemistry department just how "hot" she thought Professor Black looked, standing in front of her class that morning, leading the discussion.
Rachel suggested coyly that she had "really enjoyed spending some time together with him." Gwen Ross, an assistant professor of chemistry, and Rachel's advisor, understood what Rachel was telling her. She could see Rachel's nipples harden, noted how she kept squeezing her thighs together, and could smell the faint scent of Rachel's arousal as she talked about Professor Black. Gwen was hardly surprised. She had already heard similar suggestions about Professor Black from a couple of other girls in her classes over the past year or so, and more explicit stories from a couple of faculty colleagues who had enjoyed an night or two with him. But Gwen just played "dumb" for Rachel, not wanting to be drawn into the student's gossip.
Nancy Schwartz was, like Gwen, also an assistant professor in the chemistry department. They were both in their early 30s. Nancy was a tall, full-bodied woman, with dark, curly hair that she wore short. Her 38C chest and full, round buttocks were difficult to hide, even in the modest skirts and pantsuits she wore to teach her classes. She inevitably attracted the lustful attention of many of her male students. Thankfully, most of them lacked the courage to hit on a professor. But her faculty colleagues did not. Gwen shared the same problem. Although she was just as tall as Nancy, she was slimmer. But her 36B chest and small, firm ass were just as attractive. Her long, silky blond hair framed a pair of deep blue eyes, aquiline nose, and thick, naturally pink lips. Within a week of taking up their faculty appointments, Gwen and Nancy forged a strong bond of mutual support against a barrage of unwanted advances.
After an unusually long, and particularly boring department meeting that wrapped up late on a Friday afternoon, they decided to go out for drinks together at a local bar within walking distance of their offices. After their first round of martinis, they started sharing their mutual disgust for their lecherous, balding, and overweight department chair and his habit of touching them inappropriately. They agreed it was something they had to try to avoid without making any public complaint about it; at least not until they had tenure. Then, they agreed, they could "cut his balls off" with a formal complaint of harassment. They enjoyed a good laugh at the thought of doing that to him, and ordered another round of drinks.
Gwen didn't think Nancy was drunk until she complained "it's always the pieces of shit that come on to you, never the dreamy ones you'd like to fuck, isn't it?"
"Do you have anyone particular in mind?" Gwen asked, surprised by Nancy's obvious frustration and curious to learn whom she thought was so "dreamy."
Nancy seemed irritated by the question. "Don't give me that, Gwen, you know who all our hot little students are creaming in their panties for!"
"Well, Rachel Gold did come by the other day..."
"Rachel! That little bitch was an uptight little princess for two years, and then, suddenly, she turns into a seething, juicy, little sexpot you can smell a mile away. And I know who opened her spigot!"
"Jeez, Nancy, keep your voice down! People will hear you," Gwen warned her. But she wanted to hear more. "So, who was it?"
"I'm sure it was Charles Black over in Political Science. He's totally hot. I'd fuck him myself if I could get him interested. It seems Rachel has been talking to her roommate non-stop about the professor for weeks. The roommate is my advisee, told me all this confidentially, and asked me how she could get Rachel to shut up. She's afraid of scandal. Christ, you wouldn't believe what Rachel told her."
Gwen gulped down the rest of her martini. "You sound jealous, Nancy. What's the matter, you need some action, too? Lord knows I do. Between research and teaching there's so little time. And the men on this campus! What I wouldn't give for some time with one of those ripped athletes sitting in the back of my 'chemistry for idiots' lecture."
Nancy finished her vodka martini and signaled the waiter for another round, their third. "Why the fuck do little cunts like Rachel get all the action on campus?" Nancy asked, starting to slur her words.
"They're not getting all the action, Nancy. Maybe from the stud athletes, who probably think we're too old, or too difficult to seduce, and we'd have to be crazy to get involved with, anyway. But, the little cunts are not getting all the action, at least not, from what I've heard, all the action Professor Black is dealing out."
"Really? C'mon girl, tell me what you know! Share the goods!"
"I know your dreamy Professor Black is doing professors, too, because Anita Rodriguez, the Latin American Studies professor in the history department, and I went out for drinks after the last faculty meeting, and she was sitting right where you are sitting now and gave me a very graphic account of their hook-up."
"Boy, you really get around, don't you?"
"She asked me, Nancy. It turns out she's bi. She was complimenting me on my 'beautiful' blonde hair, my tits, my ass. She kept staring at my cleavage. I thought she was going to start attacking me in the bar. Instead, she suddenly says 'I bet Charles Black would love to fuck you.' I must have looked surprised, so she says 'didn't you know? he's the campus stud! He's fucking all the hottest students, and faculty, too.' I, of course, asked her how she knew and she gave me a detailed account of their hook-up. When Anita described his cock to me, using words like steel, and tree trunk, and huge, and silky smooth, I was ready to be fucked myself."
"Really?"
"Oh yeah. Anita commented that I was acting pretty horny. She licked her lips as she pointed out that my nipples had gotten hard. Do you believe it? I couldn't help telling her it was Professor Black's cock that got my engine revved up. I think she was kind of disappointed that it wasn't her, but then she said 'Just wait, it's better than anything you can imagine. If every man had his style and equipment, I'd go completely straight'."
"So, now I know Professor Black is fucking some of our colleagues, too. I want some of that action!"
"Count me in, too, Nancy. Maybe a three-way would get him interested?"
"Maybe. I was thinking more along the lines of how I, that is, we could talk to him at the next faculty meeting, to give him the idea I, I mean we, are interested and available."
Gwen and Nancy made a point of going early to the wine and cheese reception before the next faculty meeting, to stake the room out and make sure they did not miss the chance to corner Professor Black for themselves. By the time he showed up, the room was nearly full, but Nancy and Gwen pounced on him as soon as he entered. They introduced themselves, and told him they had a mutual friend who suggested they get together.
"Who's your friend?" he asked, casually.
Gwen told him it was Anita, and that "after hearing what Anita had to say, I just knew we had to get together, too."
"All of us," Nancy added.
"In that case," Charles answered quietly, so he would not be overheard, "I think we should ditch this meeting and meet at my place. You know Oak Street? About a quarter of a mile east of Main? There's a large restored Victorian, on the corner of East Third, number 28. Park in the driveway, in front of the garage; there's plenty of room. How about if you two meet me there in 20 minutes?"
"Sounds good to me!" Gwen offered. "Me, too!" Nancy added.
Charles smiled and turned toward the door without saying another word. "I haven't had anything this sweet since Sandy and her mother," he thought.
Gwen pulled her little Toyota into Charles' driveway and parked in front of the garage, as instructed. Nancy followed right behind her, and parked her Subaru next to Gwen. Charles appeared in the doorway on the side of the house next to the garage, on the beautiful wrap-around porch. He had changed into a pair of jeans and a freshly-pressed, open-necked blue shirt. He invited them in. They couldn't help admiring the sleek, expensive-looking red sports car parked in the circular drive in front of the house as they headed up the three steps to the porch and entered the house.
They followed Charles through what looked like a butler's pantry and into a large, Victorian-era kitchen, with gorgeous original cabinetry, woodwork, and stone countertops. A beautiful six-burner professional range and oven, dishwasher, and large, double-door refrigerator all fit seamlessly, as if stainless steel appliances had been installed in the house when it was built, more than hundred years earlier.
"I'm drinking bourbon and... what will you have?" he turned and asked them, nodding in the direction of a shaker, ice bucket, bottles of bourbon and vodka, and the fixings of cocktails on the counter next to his half-full glass.
"White wine?" Nancy asked.
"How about some grown-up drinks, like a Manhattan, or some Vodka martinis?"
"Grown-up? You think we're little girls or something?" Nancy retorted.
"No. I think you two girls are very much all woman. But, very, very sexy girls, Nancy. Sexy girls who have come all the way over to the house of a man much older than them, who has a reputation for doing nasty things with sexy little girls -- especially ones who are over 18. You are over 18, aren't you Nancy? Gwen?"
"Old enough," Gwen teased him.
"Old enough for what?"
"For martinis, and doing the nasty with a hot, hot, hot, older man who, we've been told, knows his way around sexy little girls," she replied, reaching for the vodka.
"Well said. But, I'll mix the drinks, if you don't mind."
"Planning on spiking them?" Nancy asked.
"Hmmm, hot, horny, and hostile! That's a combination I haven't come across yet. And no, never spiked. But, always strong. Not like the watered-down shit they serve in the bars downtown where the students hang out...and some of the junior faculty."
Charles proceeded to mix their vodka martinis, poured them into two glasses he took out of the refrigerator, and handed them to Gwen and Nancy.
"Like it?" he asked.
"Yes, very much, it is strong, Charles. Trying to get us drunk?" Nancy asked him, trying not to insult, but to tease him.
"Getting drunk is pointless, Nancy. It takes all the real enjoyment out of getting to know someone. Put the drink down on the counter for a minute, Gwen. I want you to taste something else."
Gwen gave Nancy a startled look, but put her drink down as instructed. Professor Black stepped in close to her, took her in his arms and proceeded to kiss her, passionately, on the mouth, as his hands slipped down her back to grasp and massage her butt. He kept kissing her as he slowly gathered the fabric of her skirt and pulled it up to her hips, allowing him to slip his hands inside her tiny bikini panties.
He moved his mouth to her neck, just below her left ear, kissed her on the sensitive tendons of her neck, and whispered. "Like it?" His fingertips were gently teasing the already-wet lips of her hot pussy.
Charles broke off the kiss, withdrew his hands, let Gwen's skirt fall back into place, and stepped back, waiting.
"Well?"
"Oh, oh, you wanted me to answer..."
"Yes, Gwen. And you, too, Nancy. When I ask a question I do expect an answer. No matter how distracted you might be!"
