The Professor's Wife -- ch 1
I sat in class listening to Professor Gibson's lecture on feudalism during the medieval period of western history. I know it sounds boring to most people. But for a guy like me who loves history, I sat there loving every minute of it. And Prof Gibson only deepened my love for the subject. He made history come alive the way he taught it. He made history interesting and practical for today.
I was attending the university on a baseball scholarship. I was a good pitcher at the university level. But I was also a realist. I knew I wasn't good enough for the big leagues. I thought I might make it in the minor leagues. But I knew I should probably take advantage of my free ride scholarship and get a degree in something I could use when I was finally out of school. So I decided to major in history, and become a teacher if the baseball career didn't workout. I could always coach a high school team to satisfy that baseball itch. But either way, I was in my junior year, and I knew my time in college was quickly coming to an end.
I was throwing my books in my backpack after the class was over, the rest of the class filing out of the amphitheater classroom, when Prof. Gibson called out my name. "Jason, could I see you for a minute before you leave?"
I walked down the steps to the small podium he taught from. I was 6'4". Tall and lanky as my coach used to describe me. A good height for a pitcher. I had just turned twenty the month before.
Peter Gibson was in his late forties. A distinguished looking man who had put on a lot of weight over the last year. What everyone eventually discovered was he was diagnosed with some kind of thyroid disease that brought on the weight gain. Up till then he had always been slender and physically fit.
Prof. Gibson smiled at me as I stepped up to the podium. "How's your semester going Jason?" I don't know as I could say he and I had become friends over the last two semesters. But we had developed a level of friendship that went beyond just teacher and student. We had had lunch together on numerous occasions. I think it would be fair to say we had both developed a respect for each other. He had told me several times that when we were alone it was ok to call him 'Pete.'
"It's going good." I looked around to see if anyone was still in the classroom. Everyone else had filed out. "How are you doing these days?"
Pete knew I was referring to his physical condition. "Things are getting better."
"Good! I'm glad to hear that."
"Thanks. That's kind of what I'd like to talk to you about." He finished shoving some papers in his briefcase. "Would you be available for dinner this evening? My wife and I would like to have you over for dinner."
I was thrilled. "I'm not doing anything this evening. I'd love to have dinner with you and your wife."
"Excellent! I can come by your dorm and get you about 5:00."
"Not necessary. I have a car. I can drive to your place. Just text me your address."
Peter pulled out his phone and texted me his address. A minute later I was reading it. He held out his hand to shake mine. "My wife and I are both looking forward to having you over this evening. Plan on being at our place around 5:30. We'll have a drink before dinner." He looked at me and gave me a sly smile. "I know you're only twenty. I won't tell if you don't. Now I better get moving. I have another class in fifteen minutes."
I walked around campus all afternoon wondering what the evening would be like. Was I the only one invited to dinner? Or were there others coming? What did he want to talk to me about? Then I began wondering what his wife was like. I'd seen her just a couple of times before. Janice Gibson was a strikingly beautiful woman. I guessed she was in her early to mid forties. She had jet black hair with streaks of gray in it, which only made her look more beautiful. She had a slim figure, which I knew was attributed to her workout regime. Pete had told me several times how much of a fanatic she was about working out. Her figure was topped off with a pair of breasts that turned every man's head she passed.
I pulled into their driveway and walked up to the front door. I looked at my watch, 5:33. 'Acceptable.' I thought to myself. I hate being late for anything. And he did say 'Around 5:30.' I knocked on the door.
Pete opened the door smiling. "Good evening Jason. Come in! I'm so glad you could join us for dinner this evening." He led me into his den where he kept his bar. He looked at me with that sly smile again. "What can I get you to drink?"
If this had been anyone else, I'd have probably been really nervous. But I didn't. This almost felt natural. "Well, to be honest, I really love a good scotch."
He looked at me surprised. "Aren't you a bit young to have developed a taste for scotch?"
"My mom says I'm a bit of an old soul." I said smiling. "I've tried several different liquors. I keep coming back to scotch. I trust this isn't going to get me in trouble?"
Pete burst out laughing. "Your secret is safe with me my friend. I've never quite understood some of our puritanical laws. At eighteen you're old enough to fight and die for your country. But not old enough to drink. And the ironic thing about those laws is they're put in place by a bunch of alcoholics." He poured me a double and handed me the glass just as Janice walked into the room.
"Dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes." She said smiling at us. "Good evening Jason." Her voice was like butter. "I'm so glad you could join us this evening." She was wearing a midnight blue dress that clung to her body like a glove, accentuating every curve and asset. She was a woman who knew what she had and enjoyed flaunting it.
I stood there holding my glass of scotch, staring at her. I caught myself as my eyes roamed up and down her body, drinking in her beauty. My roaming eyes were not lost on her. "Good evening Mrs. Gibson. Thank you for having me."
She walked around the chair that separated us. I noticed she was wearing 4" heels, that only made her natural beauty more sensual. She laid her hand lightly on my arm as I held my drink. Her touch was like an electric shock. I had to consciously force myself not to groan.
I felt my stomach cramp as she looked up at me. "Tonight I'm Janice. Understood?" She said as she squeezed my arm softly.
Pete had been watching the whole exchange with great amusement.
Janice looked at him. "Make sure he understands that before you two come to the table."
Pete chuckled. "Finish getting dinner ready my dear while Jason and I talk. We'll be in when we're ready."
We both watched her walk out of the room, her ass swaying back and forth with every step.
"She's quite the sensuous creature, isn't she?" Pete asked me.
I wasn't sure how to answer. She was my professor's wife. I knew better than to verbalize what I was thinking. I stood there in silence staring at my glass of scotch, not knowing what to say.
"Speak your mind Jason. Tell me what you think of her." He sat down in a chair.
I followed his lead and sat in a chair across from him. My comfort level began to evaporate as my nerves kicked in. "I think your wife is a gorgeous woman." My mind raced as I thought about all her physical features.
"Tell me what you find attractive about her." Pete said, almost commanding me, as he took a sip of his drink. "Don't be afraid. Tell me."
I took a sip. The scotch did help a little to calm my nerves. "She has beautiful hair." I hesitated. "I can see what you mean when you told me how she was a workout fanatic. She has a great figure." I took another sip. "And those legs just go on forever."
Pete laughed. "What else?" When he saw I was hesitant to get any more detailed about what I thought of his wife, he sat forward in his chair and stared at me intently. "History is full of men who failed to seize the opportunities that came to them because they were afraid to take the risk. Are you one of those men?"
I felt a resolve come over me. "No sir!"
"Then tell me what you think of my wife." He commanded me.
"I think she's one of the most sensuous women I've ever met. She's got a body most women would die for. And those breasts! Wow! I could play with those breasts for hours."
Pete sat back. The look on his face revealed a satisfaction that he had brought down a barrier within me. "And what exactly would you do with those breasts if you had them?"
The scotch was really breaking down my inhibitions now. The alcohol's affect coupled with his challenge to me to seize the opportunity brought about a boldness in me. "Before or after I was done with her pussy?"
Pete threw his head back and laughed out loud. "Jason my friend, I think we're beginning to understand each other." He took another sip from his glass before he began to recount his story and why I was there. "My physical condition has rendered me incapable of satisfying my wife. I love my wife very much. I know she has needs that I can't meet anymore. She and I have talked about this quite extensively. She has requested, and I have given her permission to take on a lover that can meet her needs." He took another sip. "Do you think you can seize this opportunity and be the lover she needs? Do you think you're man enough to tame the horny vixen?"
I took it all in as I took another sip. His question was like a challenge. It reminded me of what it felt like every time I took the mound to pitch. I had to walk up there with the mindset I was the best there was, and I was going to strike every batter out. I was about to answer his question when he continued.
"Before you answer that, let me tell you about my wife. She has an incredibly high sex drive. But then women her age are usually at their peak sexually. She gives the appearance that she's in control and likes to take charge. But it's all bravado and smoke screens. She blossoms like a flower when you take control of your lovemaking sessions. I'm not talking about that Dom/sub stuff. I'm just talking about taking charge and directing her with what you like, and doing with her as you please. So I ask again. Do you think you're man enough?"
I smiled at him as I raised my glass. I was scared shitless. But I wasn't going to show that. Nor did I want to lose this opportunity. "I know I am."
