College Days

"Yes, Mr. Rice."

"I had a meeting with President Trotter and Provost Bertram yesterday. They were asking me to recommend a student to show the campus to a special guest, who'll be visiting the campus for Home Coming next weekend."

"Sure I can do that."

"Who's the guest?"

"Someone from Administration usually handles this specific tour. But since John Bryce is in a coma, Mark Bryce is making the trip, and they figured a student would make a better guide."

"Mark's twenty two so it makes sense that he'd relate to a student better, on top of that he's the family patriarch. He controls the money and owns the company, not his dad who married into the family," the Dean said as Peter looked on like a deer in headlights.

"You want me to give a tour to the great, great, great-grandson of the schools' founder."

"I think you missed a great or two." She said chiming in.

The Dean burst out with a scholarly laugh to Jennifer's less than funny comment. As he removed his large round glasses, he gave them a needless wipe with a cotton cloth.

"We believe this is the first-time Mark will be visiting the campus; The Bryce family founded this school 180 years ago, but less than a handful of the main family have attended the school. They primarily attend Dartmouth. Mark's mother Margaret was the first family patriarch to attend Big Blue."

"I don't get what you want?" Peter asked as Jennifer stood beside him patiently and statuesque in posture.

"Provost Bertram had the idea of a student taking him out, bring him to parties, you and your friends would bring him to the homecoming game, and the homecoming parties, teach him about the spirit of the Brigadier's and Big Blue."

"In truth we want to develop a long-lasting connection with him. He's studying for a joint JD/MBA at Harvard right now, but we wouldn't mind if he switched to the home team." Dean Rice said with a smile.

"I don't have..." Peter began to say; mentioning his lack of friends before the glowing blond to his left intuitively cut him off.

"Peter will do a great job, and I'll help if I'm allowed," Jennifer said displaying a radiating smile that could disarm the tensest conflict.

"Sorry, I never introduced myself to you Miss?'

"I'm Jennifer Miller," she said accepting the dean's hand.

"Great to meet you Miss Miller, I'm Albert Rice, Dean of Business."

"Nice to meet you Mr. Rice," she said shaking his hand.

"What's your major?"

"I'm in business like Peter."

"Ah, you're one of us realists, I bet you have great contempt for the Philosophy component of the degree?"

"It's not that bad!" She lied as Peter gave her a knowing look.

"Most business students hate it, but I'll tell you what it's a main part of the reason why our business school is ranked amongst the top three in the country. Plus we produce an above-average amount of CEO's with one unique difference..." the Dean said as Peter chipped in.

"They're not afraid of showers," Peter said rolling his eyes, as the Dean began to laugh hysterically, and Jennifer stood there confused at what was apparently an inside joke.

The Dean looked at the confused face of Jennifer. "You don't get it; all the other CEO's are getting locked up. Peter here has heard me say it like a thousand times." The Dean said tapping Peter on the shoulder.

"Yes I have," he said waiting for what was now a painful moment, to end.

They said goodbye and just before they parted way's the Dean gave them a warning. "You should stay on the path."

"What do you mean?" Jennifer asked.

"The path in the quad," the Dean began to say.

Peter wanted this to be over quickly, he usually loved conversations with Dean Rice, but he felt out of his comfort zone with everything this week; he wanted to rush to the presumed safety of Jennifer's dorm.

"The quad's path is reminiscent of your life path. As an undergrad you don't have the critical knowledge, and the foundation to live the life of virtue and consequence, required of a good member of society. I think it's a British tradition that says only Professors or graduates can walk across the quad."

"Very good Mr. Weston. A bit rough around the edges but spot on. You're well on your way to cutting across." Dean Rice said as he ventured back across the Quad to head to his own campus residence.

Peter continued walking as he was until Jennifer pulled him onto the marble covered walkway. "That was annoying; I hate hearing him pontificate!"

"Not really, I like him; he seems dedicated, he reminds me of someone I know," she said turning directly toward Peter with a chuckle as he gave her a playful shove. "You're just anxious to get me back to my room."

"No, I never expected."

"Of course you did, and I expect you to do it all night; however, you want me." Jennifer said licking his ear, "but you have to wait until I finish some more of this essay, okay?"

"What?" He asked genuinely surprised.

"I have all the books in my bag; I want to fix this, so we... So we can start fresh." Jennifer said as they finally passed the marble covered path of the near two-century-old quad affectionately called "The Green," by all "Brigadiers." Brigadiers being the Bryce University varsity team name. Increasingly, it surpassed the school nickname, which historically had been Big Blue.

-----

A few minutes later, they cut through campus by the way of tunnels and carefully followed paths. Jennifer's bedroom was in an apartment of four; it was one of the newer dorms on campus. It was a well-kept place with a flat screen in the living area; Peter was a bit envious.

The apartment was clean with illuminating posters, the popular "Keep calm and carry on," poster hung on the wall. Together they walked into her room, which was pretty tidy.

"Wait outside while I at least add another page, it won't be long."

"So you want me to wait outside the apartment?"

"No, in the living room don't be stupid, you'll distract me."

Peter sat in the living room twiddling his thumbs about as a figure exited a room on the opposite side of the apartment. She thought she was alone, as she walked to the kitchen with a loosely wrapped towel, which only really covered her upper half.

Peter didn't know if he should introduce himself or not, he didn't want to startle her. The tall red head went into the fridge bending over muttering something.

Her long red hair fell just above her waist, as she bent down her hair blocked her side view and her beautiful long legs became ever present. Down she went in search as she unknowingly displayed her firm ass and a trimmed vagina.

The red head pulled out a carton of orange juice drinking straight from it. By this point Peter thought it would be weird just to pop up, what would he say to her. "I've been watching your half-naked body, nice shaving down there, wink!"

Just then, a knock came at the apartment door, and he was sure the red head would spot him now. "One second." She yelled as she ran to her room by-passing the front door. She emerged void of a towel, but to Peter's disappointment, she wasn't naked. She now had a robe on.

Looking through the key hole she smiled as she loosened her robe and opened the door. Peter wasn't expecting what happened next as a blond girl appeared. "My roommates are out." The red head stated as the blond placed a bag on the floor, as it made a clinking sound.

"Okay let's hurry before the others come over to start pre-drinking," the blond said as she began taking off a short colorful dress. It had splashes of oranges and blue and an array of colors on a white background. Peter thought it looked to be a designer dress; the same as her fancy encased heels and prominent golden earrings.

She was well made up; her long golden hair moved to amplify the glow of her bronzed skin. The two girls headed to the bedroom as they began kissing each other. Their hands became entwined, the cohesive pair moved slowly to the bedroom.

Peter sat there like a statue as they began to move out of his line of sight. Just before this happened, the blond, whose eye lids had been closed as she kissed the red head, now popped open. She spotted him with her left eye. She didn't skip a beat as she gave him a wink unbeknownst to the red head.

He was hard and ready to overload at any time now. The blond kept the two bodies in transition to the bedroom as she gave the read head a deep French kiss her fingers dropped to the redheads opening; she began fingering her right there.

The red head gasped pulling her head back as the two escaped into the room. Peter heard whispered moans, and he couldn't take it anymore. He wanted in on the fun. He got up and barged into the room with the two girls. He hurried as he fucked the two girls mercilessly.

That didn't happen, the part where he barged into the room and fucked the lesbian pair mercilessly.

In truth after seeing the lesbian action in the kitchen, Peter jumped from the chair and headed toward Jennifer's room. She was busy typing away. "Jenn, are you done yet?" He jokingly whined.

"I actually like that name it reminds me of home." Jennifer said as her fingers tapped away on the keyboard.

Peter got behind her bending down as he kissed her head. "I guess I made you wait long enough," she said as she closed the laptop. Then she paused as a light went off in her head.

"I'll be back, take off your clothes." She said as she went into her closet grabbed a bag and left.

Peter complied, sitting there naked; he began jerking his cock, as he imagined the two girls fucking each other. He imagined the blond with a strap on as she fucked the red head in missionary. The blonde's breasts jiggling with every thrust inward.

He was broken from his shameful dream as Jennifer re-entered the room. As he witnessed what stood in front of him with his fingers busily running along his cock, he erupted furiously.

Jennifer stood in front of Peter wearing a sexy revealing superwoman outfit, clad in blue with most of her body exposed. "I take it; you like it?"

She began to straddle the already hardening cock; she got on top of him as her hands aligned his cock with her pussy.

Her inviting pussy swallowed his manhood. Their eyes never broke from each other as Jennifer rode Peter to the edge. She moved her gripping warm wet pussy up and down with cheetah-like speed seeing in his eyes that he could cum at any time.

In an abrupt turn, she slowed as her eyes closed, her hand covering over Peter's fingers that were busy working at her clit. Rolling her eyes back she screamed, "Oh my God Ughhhhhh."

His hand went straight for her large breasts as he fondled them through the blue material hoping in his mind that he could lick them later.

Her hands now ran over his skinny frame. She smiled as his face contorted, and she knew he would blow in any second.

She dropped her body down on his cock, lower and lower. He began to speak, but she cut him off.

"I know," she said, "cum inside me baby."

"God you're beautiful," he said as he exploded in the blond goddess. She collapsed on top of his body. He brushed her wavy blond hair away as he stared into her blue wonders.

As they now spooned together he rubbed his cock against her ass and her thigh. With turned heads, they kissed passionately. His cock parted her pussy lips once more as they continued to spoon.

Peter's fingers rubbed her clit intuitively, his length steadily moving inward, as their sweaty flesh became one.

-----

Saturday passed with the same passion that encompassed the ending of Friday night. Except the times when Peter was taken hostage by Jennifer's stunning roommates, with their barrage of questions.

He met Sophie, the red head, but never met the blond girl from the night before. It seemed Sophie had no clue that she had been spotted. All the coeds were excited about the tour he would be giving the young billionaire, and all agreed to help out. Right then he felt like Hugh Heffner. Jennifer finished her paper that Saturday night.

The roommates tried to drag the mismatched couple out to some house parties late that night, but Jennifer was drained. She fell asleep like a rock and so did Peter, in her bed as they cuddled together.

Sunday, the two entranced sophomores tired and needing to catch up on work stayed in their own homes.

While checking her emails Jennifer discovered that Early Modern Philosophy 304 was canceled for the following morning.

Later, that night, she found an email from the Provost's office, requesting an immediate meeting. Distress replaced joy as she tried to call Peter. It was late Sunday night, and she figured he was in bed; she tried to fight her fears and did the same.

Early Monday morning one of the roommates let Peter into the apartment. As he saw Jennifer, a large smile appeared on his face.

They embraced, and he could feel her distress. She showed him the email.

"Did Dr. Bertram report me to her husband or something?"

"No I'm sure everything will be fine..." Peter paused. "You don't know, do you?"

"Don't know what?"

"Professor Bertram and Provost Bertram they're the same person. The rumor is when she was promoted years back; she would only take the promotion if she could still teach a few classes."

"Thanks. That bit of information helps, now."

"Sit down with me," she followed his words as they sat on the bed. "Everything will be fine, do you trust me?"

"You're probably the only guy here I actually trust."

In an hour Peter walked with her to the GAB 'General Alexander Bryce' administration building.

Peter and Jennifer sat outside the Provost's office hand in hand.

A familiar, gracefully-aged black skinned woman looking quite vice regal walked out, passing a younger attractive raven-haired secretary.

"You know you're going to have to get used to the intercom, or I'm going to be redundant," stated the raven-haired secretary.

The black woman ignored the words, turning her shiny heels toward her guests, and her eyes toward the walnut encased grandfather clock that she set her life by.

"Miss Miller, please join me in my office. Mr. Weston?" The provost said in surprise. "Nice to see you again, you can wait for Miss Miller out here," she said giving him a suspicious once over.

Jennifer Miller walked behind the woman she thought was simply a Professor, days ago. Jennifer passed a long hallway to the office, plastered with portraits of old white men. Portraits dedicated to the memory of past Provost's.

They walked into a large plush office. After politely refusing tea Jennifer's fears were realized.

"Miss Miller, do you know why it is that you sit here today?"

"No," she lied.

"I received a package of about thirty percent of the marked Modern Philosophy term papers back. You had one of the highest marks in this batch. Even after I read it, I had to agree with my marker. Then I asked myself how is it someone who averages a seventy five percent per assignment received a ninety-three, on the longest paper she's probably ever written."

She waited for an answer, with a hawk like presence.

"I searched for plagiarism, but couldn't find one, now I see one of my brightest pupils sitting outside waiting on you like a school boy crush. Quite unusual don't you think? Tell you what I'm going to do I'm going to quiz you on your essay."

Right then Provost Bertram pulled out an essay, Jennifer's eyes widened as they saw the title. The title was, "The Longevity of Society & Morality." The essay she had written for Mark. And not his, "Descartes: Thought & Existence."

Jennifer answered every question with in depth and precision, as she smiled inward.

Provost Bertram ended the meeting with a smile. "I would like to apologize, but I warn you I expect this quality of work from you from hence forward. Not to produce good works when you're more than capable of it, is a great disservice to yourself and your fellow woman."

"Aristotle says, we are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, therefore, is not an act, but a habit. Miss Miller I'll be making sure my colleagues raise their expectations as well."

With that Jennifer had escaped hell.

She exited to a smiling Peter, who explained how Kelly Metcalf the T.A owed him, and how he had made the switch yesterday.

After escaping the GAB building, she pulled Peter close for a deep kiss as they rolled on the green. All Peter could think was; I love this girl. As they rolled around Peter froze as the word love escaped a mouth. It wasn't his!