I think it was only the second or third time in her life that she had ordered lobster tail at "market price". She was relishing the steaming white flesh dipped in melted butter. She was normally too conservative to order lobster but indeed tonight was a celebration. Earlier in the day she had signed a five-year licensing agreement that I had negotiated, for a machine control software program she developed with her father, a master machinist. The earlier version, licensed four years earlier, had paid off her school loans and her father's mortgage. The newest deal insured her father would have a very comfortable retirement and provide us with enough income for a substantial step up in our standard of living.
As I reflected, the deal had been rewarding for me as well. Sophie was a young recent engineering Masters graduate who had wandered into my office about five years ago looking for a "cheap" lawyer to help her with patents and licensing. As I was the newest young lawyer in the firm, she was hoping I would be affordable. While helping a struggling recent graduate with visions of selling a software program hardly seemed the path to success, her spunky personality and that cute smile seemed worthy of the free consult my firm offered. Within 30 minutes I was hooked on Sophie and 30 minutes later I was growing convinced that her aspirations may have some merit. By the time she left the office I was scratching my head trying to figure out why I was so smitten with her. Scraggly dirty blonde hair, glasses that were 10 years out of style, crooked teeth, jeans with holes - not because that was stylish but because she'd actually worn holes through the knees working with her father, and a frumpy T-shirt covering what appeared to be "almost A" boobs. But that energy, those dimples, persistent smile, and the legs and butt those raggedy jeans covered were world-class.
Fortunately, we were nearly done with our meal when Sophie was distracted. She turned to look as the hostess seated a couple in the adjacent dining room. The attractive young woman gushed "Thank you Professor." as he held her chair while she took her seat. The gentleman responded, "My pleasure" as he took his seat. He looked the part of her professor. Probably 10 or 15 years older than the young woman, with a wavy styled mop of brown hair and facial hair that reeked of the stereotypical liberal arts college professor.
Sophie whispered, "That's him."
Sophie's face was flushed and she was crouched low in her chair. She was holding the wine list to shield herself from any prospect that the professor would be able to see her face.
"That's who?" I asked.
"Prof. Endicott. Don't you remember? I told you about him. He is the professor that fired me as his graduate research assistant in Chicago. I wonder what he's doing here? Remember that little scar on my right knee - that's from when I smashed his hand with a heavy-duty stapler."
It was coming back to me now. It had happened about a year before I met Sophie. She was working in the lab during her last semester at graduate school. The professor had flirted with her on a few occasions and had asked her out. She was turned off by his smarmy mannerisms and inappropriate behavior as her boss and professor. He had gotten quite pushy with several inappropriate comments and touching. On his third attempt to ask her out she quickly declined but he persisted, placing his hand on her thigh and explaining how someone like her "with no boobs and buck teeth" should be excited to go out with him especially if she wanted to get an A in class. Before he finished his sales pitch, Sophie had grabbed a nearby stapler and slammed it full speed on top of professor Endicott's hand that was inching up her thigh. Those old-fashioned, real metal, heavy duty staplers are nothing to mess with. He howled in pain as blood gushed from the cuts on three fingers and, unfortunately, a slice on Sophie's knee.
As is too often the case, the aftermath of that incident was not very satisfying. The pseudo-concern of the administration didn't translate into appropriate actions. While it resulted in a letter in the professor's file and some stitches and bandages, it wasn't apparent that there were any more serious repercussions. Of course, his defense had been that Sophie was begging for a higher grade and was disgruntled when he wouldn't concede. When Sophie challenged the administrators to check the grading records and pointed out that she had no need to beg for a higher grade they seemed to acknowledge the credibility of her argument and agreed to pay her for the balance of the semester and assure her of an A in the class without needing to continue in her job duties or course attendance. Her attempts to push for greater consequences for Professor Elliott were met with push-back as they threatened to renege on their offer. The incident left Sophie shaken and frustrated.
The incident had happened 400 miles away from where we live now and Sophie couldn't imagine what had brought her former nemesis to our town. I told her to relax and finish her dinner and we would leave but she was reluctant to put down the menu for fear he would recognize her. I chuckled when she said that.
She gave me that curious look and I explained. "He would never recognize you. Don't you remember what you did with part of your original licensing fee? Your hair is professionally groomed and colored with highlights, your old glasses have given way to contacts, you spent two years in braces to get your teeth straightened and whitened, and that stylish blouse reveals the cleavage from those C cup breasts that have enhanced your modest originals. The woman I fell in love with was gorgeous to me but now some of those patent profits have transformed you into a stunning woman. Everything you had been teased or bulled about growing up has been changed but it hasn't changed your values or personality. If he notices you now it will not be because he remembers a student from five years ago, but rather because he sees a beautiful woman. Unless he was sitting in my chair he would never recognize you."
Sophie seemed to relax and we did finish our dinner but her mind was occupied - I was hoping she was not reliving that bad memory. As I found out over the next several months, she had moved from frustration to revenge. Before we left Sophie had discreetly taken several pictures of the professor and his date. We continued our celebration with a drink at home. Sophie slipped into a gorgeous teal colored satin and lace nightie. In bed, I caressed her gorgeous ass and slipped down the shoulder strap and nuzzled her breasts but I could tell her head wasn't in it. She was thinking about something else - hot romance would have to wait until another day.
Things returned closer to normal over the next few days but each evening Sophie spent a few hours at her computer. The following Friday she quizzed me about freedom of information record requests. Two days later she had questions about the legalities associated with hacking into websites and databases. Two days later she wanted to know about recording phone calls not just in our state but from or to an adjacent state. When she mentioned the state name I suspected what was going on and told her to level with me. It seems Dr. Elliott had moved to town last fall with a wife and two daughters ages one and three. Sophie was suspicious that he left a rather prestigious institution to join the faculty of the local much smaller college. He had accepted a parallel level position but with less compensation or opportunity for promotion and national reputation.
Sophie's suspicions lead her to keep digging. Student gossip blogs from the old University hinted that there had been enough complaints that Dr. Elliott was unlikely to ever be promoted and was being watched closely. It turns out he had a record of changing the grades for attractive young women among other suspected inappropriate behaviors. All the while he had built up a very impressive resume of accomplishments and had married and fathered two daughters. Sophie had happened to recall his mother's name and found photos and names of his wife and daughters; information that was suspiciously missing from his own social media accounts.
I queried Sophie as to why she was spending so much time and what she hoped to accomplish. I was nervous that she was only opening old wounds and nothing good could come of it. She said the woman he was with at the restaurant was not his wife. She wanted to make sure he doesn't hurt any more people. The next few weeks Sophie's investigations continued with a few hours most evenings and during occasional breaks during the day to do things that could only be done during business hours. She was talking on the phone a fair amount so it was clear that some folks were helping her. I knew she'd been in touch with some colleagues who were hackers - a group that could be good folks or perhaps not so. I cautioned her about doing something stupid that would get her in trouble or jeopardize both of our careers. Finally, almost 4 months after that evening in the restaurant I walked into the office and told Sophie that this needed to be wrapped up as it was cutting into our time together in and out of the bedroom. She turned, smiled, closed her laptop and stood up. She peeled off her pullover blouse, unsnapped and unzipped the cutoffs she was wearing, and slid them down over her hips and said "let's go talk about this in the bedroom."
I followed the pink satin bra and panties down the hall. I hesitated a few seconds telling her I had to turn off the television and lights before going to bed. She turned, unhooked the front clasp on her bra and said I could do that between rounds two and three.
It was about 40 minutes later in the middle of round two. I was lying flat on my back and Sophie was riding me cowgirl style with my 6 inches taking pleasure from her warm wet pussy, my eyes feasting on her smiling face and C cup breasts delightfully dancing as she bounced and rocked. She slowed slightly and said, "I need you to find room on your calendar to meet with Professor Elliott's wife. We talked several times on the phone but she wants to see my evidence. It needs to be during the day when her husband is at work."
I asked Sophie what she learned and she told me we would go over it when we met. She started working her ass driving my cock deeper. She took my hands and put one on her hip and one on her breast. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. With one hand she began rubbing her clit. She began making feminine grunting sounds and gasping noises. I watched as my beautiful, smart, kind, and now almost a millionaire naked wife pumped a second load of cum from my cock. I did get the lights and television turned off but did not get to round three until morning.
Four days later we met with professor Elliott's wife, Janice, in a meeting room at a downtown hotel to go over what Sophie had found out about the professor. Janice was beautiful, short wavy stylish blonde hair and big brown eyes, high cheekbones, beautiful skin and immaculately groomed. It was quickly apparent that she was no dummy. She had done a lot of crying and soul-searching over the past several days. She was in love and was convinced the professor loved her and their girls but she was also convinced that something was going on. The professor was a chronic flirting philanderer. He had been warned by his previous employer that it would be better if he found a new position and a fresh start as he had no future there. Sophie had confirmations in statements from three women indicating that the professor, Peter was his name, had harassed them. One had admitted to a three month relationship but it was before he was married. The other two had rejected him but told stories of other classmates that they thought had not. It seems the behavior had let up after Peter met Janice but Sophie had uncovered credit card records that suggested Peter had not relinquished his bad habits. Discrepancies between his Outlook calendar, class schedule and credit card statements indicated he had seldom gone more than a few months without a new, at least attempted, relationship.
