Most of my writing is boring research papers and committee reports. This is my first effort at erotic fiction. It is long, and there is very little sex until Chapter 6, but I felt it was necessary to chronicle the two protagonists' semester-long journey of discovery. Comments are welcome.
Chapter 1
I'm Dan Jackson. My story begins about a year and a half ago, on a Monday which was the first day of classes for the spring semester at Eastern State University. My department head, Bob Mayer, e-mailed me asking if I could drop by his office before the end of the day. I was hesitant. I thought he was going to ask me to teach an overload, like he did the semester before. But it turned out he had something very different in mind.
"Thanks for stopping by, Dan," Bob began. "Please have a seat."
I did. He got right to the point. "Dan, before Christmas you talked about maybe taking a sabbatical."
I nodded. I was in my 21
st
year at Eastern, in the Department of Finance. I didn't have a doctorate -- long story -- but I had worked hard to build my reputation as an excellent classroom teacher. Twice I had been voted outstanding teacher for the entire university. I also did a lot of work in curriculum development and chaired the College of Business curriculum committee for several years. When our accrediting agency insisted that Eastern identify exactly what students were expected to learn in each and every course -- "learning outcomes," they called it -- I was chair of the university task force that dealt with drawing those up. That was just last year and the new President had been most pleased. But after putting in so much concentrated work on that project, I was admittedly a bit burnt out. Plus the kids were both in college now and for the first time in years I could think seriously about taking some time away. I slipped into a reverie. Maybe a year in New England where I had studied. Maybe the Pacific Northwest.
Bob's voice jolted me back to the present. "I have a possibility you might want to think about. You know how the president is always talking about building up Eastern's international linkages." Indeed I did. He was in the habit of slipping some reference to "Eastern's place in a globalized world" into almost every speech.
"Well, it seems like he's made a contact at a place called the Kazakhstan Business School. It's a brand new institution, just starting up its BBA program. Next year it will have freshmen and sophomores. They want to bring in three visiting faculty this coming fall for a semester to work on developing the upper-level curricula. Someone to review the course outlines, and flesh out the reading lists, and suggest relevant case studies, and other things like this learning outcomes crap." He grimaced. "Yeah, that's an issue over there too. Anyway you'd teach two courses, that's half their full-time load. They're going to start with concentrations in Accounting, Finance, and HR. I know they want someone from the UK to look at Accounting. I think they have someone from California for HR. But they need a person to look at Finance. I heard this from Carol last Friday and my first thought was you." Carol Lawrence was the Dean of the college. "Any chance you might be interested?"
"Well, it's not something I would have thought of," I said, a bit puzzled. I knew little about Kazakhstan other than it had become independent after the break-up of the Soviet Union, and that Russian space missions took off from there. "I'll need to do a bit of research, and talk to Terri of course." Terri was my wife, also at Eastern, a professor of English. Then a thought. "They do teach in English, right?" I could manage in French, but I'd be lost in Russian or Kazakh or whatever the native language was.
"Yes, of course," Bob replied, chuckling a little. "They wouldn't expect you to learn Russian before you came. But it sounds almost tailor-made for you, Dan. Go ahead and take your time, but do think about it. I'll make sure Carol's on board if you decide to go with it."
"Thanks, Bob, I appreciate it. Give me a week or so and I'll let you know."
I walked back to my office deep in thought. I had never considered working overseas. Except for co-teaching a short executive education course in England several years ago I had never spent much time outside the US and Canada. But with an empty nest now, maybe this was a good chance to diversify my experiences a bit. I spent a lot of time on the Web over the next few days, researching both the school and the country. I was very encouraged by what I learned, and by Thursday I had resolved to myself that a stint at KBS, as it was called, would be a very interesting, worthwhile way to spend a sabbatical semester.
Now came the hard part, convincing Terri to go with me. I had my doubts. Terri was one of Eastern's research stars. She gave papers at quite a few conferences and was well-known in her field, which was contemporary American literature. She had traveled to Europe and a couple of times to South America, but like me she hadn't spent any length of time overseas. I knew her schedule was booked months in advance, what with the lead time conference organizers needed. But I hoped she would see the value of a change in scenery, and put her work on hold for a few months so we could enjoy this adventure together.
What I couldn't tell her is that I also thought a change of scenery might add spice to our sexual relationship. When we had met and married in graduate school, our youthful passion had covered up the fact that Terri, in particular, was not very adventurous in bed. But over time, with the kids and the workloads and the take-your-partner-for-granted familiarity that affects most marriages, the passion had subsided, and the unadventurousness had taken over. I could guess well ahead of time what our love-making routine would be any particular week (and yes, it was at most once a week now). Undress. Get into bed. Fondle her breasts, roll the nipples between my fingers, nibble them a bit. Go down on her -- I knew exactly how she liked it, and sucking gently on her clit always got her off. Enter her, me on top, thrust a while with her wriggling under me to encourage me, explode inside her. Cuddle a bit in the afterglow. Fall asleep. On occasion she would give me oral before I fucked her, or I would take her doggie style. Like I said, pretty standard stuff.
It's not that it wasn't enjoyable -- it was. She had kept her figure pretty well and I still relished the sight of her naked body. But the whole process had become routine, bordering on mechanical. After our son Steven left for college in August I had cautiously suggested we try some different things. Lingerie, which she scarcely ever wore. New locations -- the living room couch, the bathtub, even the kitchen table (just the right height to lay Terri on and enter her standing up). She not only turned them down flat, but gave the distinct impression that I was some kind of pervert for even mentioning them. After a few weeks I gave up. Now I was hoping that if we were somewhere different, with new experiences at every turn, she would loosen up a bit and welcome new sexual experiences as well.
My hope was dashed when I brought up the subject at dinner that night. "This fall!" she moaned. "Dan, I've already promised to give three papers in fall and one of them's at the big annual literature conference. I'm doing that one with two other people. I can't disappoint them, Dan. You know how important it is to be part of these things."
I was starting to feel annoyed. "Terri, you're an established researcher. You've got ten pages of publications in your CV. I don't see how it will hurt your standing to take a semester off. You have the time coming if you want it, just like I do. It would be great if we could do this together. But if you won't, then I just might have to go without you."
