Professor in Love: A Story

University Confessions: A Professor & Student Love Story

Professor Jeffery O'Connor was almost sixty one. He looked like he might be forty – if those crow's feet hadn't finally caught up with his eyes. Yet he always marched with his head up and intention in his step. The boys loved to go out and drink with this man who owned the world and if he didn't know something was in it he learned about it. Well, that's if he wanted to learn about it.

He'd broken laws, lived, chased girls, rode motorcycles and done everything from cut down trees to drive big-rigs because he loved life that much. He knew the dark and light of this world, held a license for everything from handguns to the legal pitch to drive hazardous waste across international boarders. He knew his way around any city sub-line like he was a born and bred street-fighter and could be dropped off within a hundred miles of the nearest other human life form and he could survive.

There was nothing he hadn't really exploited that someone might envy – after all, he was sixty one and been there and done that. At the end of each day a glass of brandy and a cigarette over stipulating nothingness left him aligned with the world. Jeffery had arrived upon all the pedestals of the world – over the hearts of his students, and the abandoning loneliness that was his life. He could probably die a happy man.

Except there was Adi – a sparkling shimmer of youth and the ignorance such agelessness brings. Adi was a twenty two year old student that had haunted him for the last four years in his undergraduate and graduate classes, as his assistant, gopher and great friend. There was something about how that girl moved, spoke and enjoyed the world like he did that made him shiver. Someone finally met the world with the same eyes that he did – someone reached across the board and grabbed what he had to say with so much admiration and love – but this time it was this strong young filly, not some young man he could pat on the back and send on his way.

He admired her, took her for granted, and needed her.

Her world was consumed by his. She worked for him in his department and stayed around to drink with him – she left no rock unturned, no drama squished and came out on top by a fluke of her nature. She danced to his music, one of folk singers and ageless tunes by talented musicians, not the things children of this world appreciated. She was a liberal and conservative and was a contradiction of existence because she sat on the fence of both worlds. Life itself is a contradiction. She shot guns, rode horses, got dirty but always looked so collected.

She wore a corset in the office, dressed in sweet skirts and wore pretty sandals. Once she ran with a bunch of boys out of the south part of town in a motorcycle gang and had blue hair, piercings and a knack for being naughty. When the exterior metal was taken off, the hair cleaned up and the boys shuffled off as connections she battled addictions and fiascos. She became an EMT, danced around a major, attached herself to the Professor and spent most nights sleeping in the office. She smoked, spit, drank, laughed, and still managed to be disgustingly human but so pretty with her hazel eyes, unwavering smile. She had no invented elements to her and shared, in confidence, all the secrets and troubles in her world.

Jeffery would come in early in the mornings laying on the office couch and her face cloudless, undisturbed. It treated him to some sort of misconception he was missing out. Sure, he had girlfriends and sex – but the older woman of some chained nature to pre-disposition. He was making this woman.

Any man able to craft, mold, and frame such a beautiful and experienced creature was one very blessed, he recognized. The man who could enjoy such a woman was one who was probably doing something wrong, he also recognized. The sometimes carnal nature of man wanted to reach out even further into the lessons of life than college or university taught but a good teacher and disciplined knowledge of this world's taboos kept him away from that one.

Over his Friday evening beer he mulled about the day. He'd slipped up – he'd been slipping up.

She had asked to go get her mail – he thought he heard 'my male' and Adi would be the kind of girl to state something like that. He also knew she caught that when he asked who she was talking about – probably more protective than he should have said it too.

Adi came back to grab a bag and left abruptly, a little red in her face and in that silent state he hated. She had a telling enough face he got the message. After four years and seeing each other six out of seven days a week for sometimes eight to twelve hours a day they could now just read each other like an open book.

He had to watch himself better – she was too young, he was too old, this should not be an issue.

Adi was picking some groceries up from the open market down the road from the college about two miles a walk from the campus and a quarter mile from Jeffery's little dot on the map. She was throwing together a fruit dessert she saved for birthdays, holidays and stress days.

This was one of them.

Adi, since day one, had crushed on Mr. Jeffery O'Conner – a sweltering, taller man who was some sort of Highwayman in her dreams – the bad guy, good guy and character that met up with hers. But he was older than her father and the fact that the two of them lived around each other so much it was a sad displacement in their quiet Shangri-la at campus.

She loved drinking with him, bullshitting with him and exploiting his knowledge base. To her it was a misery she could live with – since women, after all, can live with many things that men cannot. Disappointment is usually a woman's constant battle – men just let things go.

Adi had remained single all this time – her love life shattered by the emblematic love she had for her work with Jeff. There was one young man who had remained steady in her life – Andrew. But the box of a bouncer was a problem and a drama in his own right. He stirred up fights, was brazen more than brainy and had no pretty track record of control. She'd slept with him when she turned twenty – the only man she'd ever slept with – but in the pitfall of their absolved sexual contact she broke it off.

The fact was Andrews's persistence was a good reason why they were at the grocery store and as he poked holes in a few watermelons and popped a few grapes – to the shop-keepers horror, Adi got her dessert supplies together.

"You don't have to do that every time we come in here."

"Yeah but what else is there to do?" He had his mouth full of grapes.

"Buy the food?"

"Like you've never stolen something."

"That's not what I'm saying – it's about how you act in public."

"Fine, check that shit out and let's go. I'll meet you in the car."

Adi let him truck off in a huff as she got to the counter. The manager was snarling as she checked out.

Andrew left tracks on everything – be it his sexually conquered space, like Adi, or simply the places he shopped. And because of the inconsiderate stomping he gave them they never would be fondly remembered marks. Andrew really was the guy who would die a certified asshole.

Adi made it to the car and within five minutes Andrew and her got into it. The anger and esteemed hatred they felt for each other was present in full force. Andrew new how to dig deep into Adi's nerve center after the shopping incident and made sure payback was swift.

"What do you fucking expect from me?"

"A little consideration, that's all."

"Like I'm not considerate enough."

"You aren't."

"Figures you'd think that."

"You ass!"

"So is it the fact you think I'm an asshole or a bad lay, Adi? Do you enjoy sabotaging me?"

"Bullshit! Absolute fucking bullshit, Andrew. You do this to aggravate me and you do a damn good job of it. She's eighteen, Andrew, eighteen and a friend of mine – not some newly post-pubescent teenager you picked up at a nearby high school. You're sheer association with her has to do with us and you trying to get back at me because you really are that juvenile."

"Yeah, because you're so fucking special."

"I was to you, you jackass. If I remember correc-"

"Shut the fuck up."

"Pull over."

"No."

"Fuck you, Andrew, pull the god damn car over."

"Fine."

He pulled over so fast he almost careened into the bumper of another car and caused a mid-day traffic pile up on the narrow, packed street. Thankfully bad driving was compensated by everyone else on the road and only a few gestures of road rage were broadcast.

Adi had opened the door, slammed it into the metal 'No Parking' sign and stormed off – not even willing to shut it as Andrew screamed at her from the car. She'd made it into the local coffee shop before anyone identified why exactly a young man was screaming, beeping his horn and causing a ruckus during high noon traffic.

By the time he peeled away Adi had slipped out of the coffee shop for a cigarette and mused to step on sidewalk ants. The walk back wasn't bad – it was the fact Andrew had her groceries that really pissed her off.

The Friday evening was an empty basin for Jeff. The television was muttering something in the backdrop and the cascading twilight ran through the windows as light filtered out of the day. He was half napping and nearly getting a good buzz going when, like a bolt of lightening had struck, the apartment buzzer went off. It scared the bejesus out of him.

He shuffled up from the lounge chair with a grumble to lean on the wall.

"Yeah, who is it?" he asked over the intercom.

"Jeff – hey, uhm, if... if it isn't a good time, I-"

"Adi?" A sense of thrill and shock uttered out of his voice.

About two seconds too late his mental filter wondered how well the intercom carried that one. "Come up on up, hun."

It wasn't unabashed for Adi to show up – except tonight it was after their awkward moment. Ever so often he'd do something stupid and she'd walk two and a quarter miles across sidewalk to hand him a folder or he'd call and she'd gopher over something silly.

Tonight he met a somewhat distraught woman at his door.

"Hey," she said at the door, peppy voice.

Something was wrong.

"Yeah, come in," he mused. "What's up?"

She was going to give him the generic nothing but sighed, "Andrew dumped me off here. Got into it with him; drama, you know. Thought I might as well stop by."

What he had for a kitchen table was like a card table – she shuffled over to sit down as he walked over and grabbed a beer and sat it in front of her.

"All right," he said. That usually ended these things – but he saw she was pondering, fighting, and enduring the idiocies of human whatnots. It was a show he'd seen many times before.

"I'm just pissed," she said, shrugging, "I'll get over it."

And, a little too father like for his taste he answered, "Okay, but this has something to do with the two of you, right? So are you jealous and pissed or just pissed."

"Just pissed," she remarked – the honesty latent in the powerful anger she dispelled saying it. "Both at him and myself for this. And the fact I've let him leak back into things when he's so immature I can't deal with this. I'll cut my losses and run but, god; it really is so damn frustrating."

In about ten minutes the conversation went from how bad Adi was doing to laughter and a few more beers. The television murmured while the evening sun got blotted by running storm clouds that moved in, fickle and drizzling to a very heavy, steady tumble.

Jeffery and Adi moved into the living room, chatting it up. Four years – he thought, looking at her short brown hair, long eyelashes and the immature light pink eye-shadow draped with a haughty woman's smoky edge. She was pretty in the light cast off by a nuisance television. Thin lips, tiny mouth and perfect teeth up against a well angled jaw, long neck and shoulders that showed she was not a princess but a woman with strength, lean, thick but still feminine at the collar bone.

The alcohol tipped him a little into over-observation. The conversation particularly useless witty pulls and commentary marveling at nothings. When the non-awkward space of silence fell in with a few more beers Adi was asleep on the couch.

He felt no urge to wake her up and watched the play-by-plays of sports overviews, chucked at a few idiotic comments. Somewhere in the sprig of alcohol, TV and the sound of Adi's slow breathing the darkness landed over Jeffery and he too fell asleep.

A Saturday morning alarm went off that was not his own, a cell phone in Adi's bag was ringing with some obnoxious force. It took him two seconds to find it after he bolted up and another ten to make it stop.

Adi was full force asleep still when he came around to find her, head on the middle couch cushion, sprawled out listlessly.

"Hey, Adi... Kid-o, wake up."

An early morning noise broke the girl's unconsciousness and she shuddered and looked up, "Oh god..."

"Yeah, one too many?"

"Mhmm...Lager's too heavy for me," she grunted.

"Heh."

"Ha-ha, super funny," she drawled.

"Hey, you want me to run you home quick?"

"Sure."

She half got up from the couch when an ankle went and Jeffery had maybe a fraction of a second to really move. He caught her around the waist and it would have been fine but, maybe it was the booze, maybe it was just touching her that made him overstep and the two of them ended up on the floor. Adi managed to land with Jeffery craning one arm around her frame, both hands on his chest, and a definite sense of, "Uh-Oh" pitched into the air.

For Adi it had been the worst possible choice of drink but the lager soon fell heavy and she'd always been able to drink a lot – and the morning rise was so painful. It was, however when she fell that she felt her stomach fully revolt. The horror of falling on top of someone you crushed on for four years is, well, mind-boggling.

The two of them were deadlocked and trying to stand up meant vomiting over Jeffery or on him – and staying put meant cuddling with a professor.

Out of some shameful feeling vomiting might be inappropriate she groaned, pained, and relinquished.

Jeffery was in utter shock of how they got here and he heard her make a noise no man, in no world, ever wanted to hear. But a man, single as he was, pitched against a twenty two year old he adored who just groaned was probably a highly volatile situation.

His pants agreed and gave the sprigs of warning that, "We have lift off, Houston." And he grunted himself trying to break free of this tangled mess of awkwardness.

Adi quickly noticed that something was amiss and her face went bright red when she felt what just happened. Her heart rate escalated, her stomach literally overturned, the beer made it almost impossible for her to move as it had thrown over her stomach and she, in some dull frustration grabbed his shirt which at that moment one of them was going to give...

Either Jeffery was going to move or Adi was – and one of the two of them had a bodily function that needed execution.

It was Jeffery, at the very tangible, desperate grasp Adi made, that he made the first move – the boldest, brazen move of his life. He grabbed her and kissed her. At first Adi was relieved he hadn't moved anymore – and then the horror, thrill, violation and overturning of her stomach. But like some minor relief she was suddenly on her back, okay, fine and Jeffery was on top of her with his tongue half way to the back of her tonsils.

It felt marvelous, hot and active – the simple act of kissing was one of her favorites. And he went full force at her since she hadn't broken it yet either. He was great at it, big shoulders laying in over her frame. They fenced tongues for half a second, moaned and she crinkled a little bit feeling the butterflies cool off her stomach and a new ache appear stretching from her nipples to her neither regions.

Any teenager knows it and any woman finds a way to feed it – and like an answer Jeffery complied by settling his weight right there.

Like that the kiss was broken and Adi opened her eyes and let out an earth shattering moan and her fingers knotted up in his shirt, nipples went instantly hard.

Jeffery had no idea where he was really. The blood left his brain and the function all of a sudden reverted – a libido jolt stole it like it can any man of any level of wisdom. He wasn't powerless but her outcry made the difficulty in decision precise. He was separated by a few layers of fabric from all that reigned supreme in his world – a little girl, a girl a fraction of his age but one steeped in everything he was.

It was wrong, part of him uttered. Wrong why? Because this was taken advantage of a girl still – someone so shaped by him his doing this could now destroy their relationship, the foundation of it, the very bridge they'd rode across carefully as mentor and student was being gapped by a carnal desire.

The reality was that Adi, however, wasn't stupid to it – she'd know this, fantasized about it, loved it, thrilled it and kept it even amidst their controlled relationship. She was okay with it.

Jeffery was going to bail; she could feel it in her guts. He had approached too fast and too hard in a situation too random. Like the tidal wave of a woman she was she rose her head up kissed him in compliance yet again and bucked her hips against his. An arm rose around his neck and she practically purred underneath him. A second later she broke away, writhed under him while she clung to him and said, very fast and very simply,

"I will let you do this so long as you know two this: One, this does not change our relationship unless we say it does and two, unless you promise to do it again."

Somewhere, somehow the good angel of intentions got kicked off Jeffery's shoulder at the motion of this girl, her hips, kisses, and words. He growled in utter, total frustration and pinned her there, "Agreed."

Like that she felt the long skirt she wore was pulled down passed her knees and he moved just enough to undo his jeans and pull them down. It was completely unceremonious and totally desperate for her.

He kissed her, sucked on her lip and put his weight down right on top of her so she could feel it and in the heat of the moment they didn't care – she spread her legs out and he fell into place – no protection, no worries, heated writhing, hands up her shirt feeling, turning her nipples, molding her breasts.

And like a hot knife in butter he drove his steel hard rod into her. She let out a screaming yes as the penetration hit home, rubbing her clit on the way in. She kicked off the skirt and panties to wrap her legs around his body. He had enough leverage that he hit her home every time, banging with the weight of a big man and a girth she'd never felt before. Her eyes lulled into the back of her head, her body not stopping to reply by squirming under him, bucking back and her entire slicked pussy clamping down on him raw.

Jeffery grunted every time, eyes rolling as he kissed her pulled and found her body so utterly intriguing. It was hot, it was wicked and it was probably wrong somewhere in this world – but it meant everything to him.

She meant everything to him, and vise versa.

He stuffed her with sheer force, growling into high wails and screams, cries that echoed and thumped on the apartment floor for a good twenty minutes of sheer bliss and then like a criminal the two of them, backs arched, came. She felt it go first, the point of no return and a sudden jerk of her inner muscles contracting around his all ready stretching cock. She clamped down on him so god damn hard he felt himself shudder as he buried himself, head to her cervix.

Like he hadn't had sex in years it felt he dropped off into jets of cum that blasted against her. She felt it and he grunted seven times as he pumped seven streaks of himself down deep inside her and compiled on top of her body.