Winner Take Nothing

I said, "I have evidence of serious malfeasance on the part of one of your staff members. Which may lead to a sexual harassment lawsuit."

THAT snapped him out of his boredom. Those little glittery eyes focused on me with intensity. Any suit of that nature would be a PR disaster and depending on the circumstances might even threaten his OWN position.

I said, "Here are four notarized depositions that I have gathered. They are from four female students and they all involve the actions of Antonio Piccardi who is an Assistant in the Registrar's Office.

If the Dean had whiskers I would have seen them twitch. Instead his eyes narrowed. He had probably heard some of the rumors concerning Piccardi. He also probably knew my history with the varmint.

The Dean said, "That's very strange behavior on your part Jonathon. Why would you stir up that kind of trouble?"

He knew darn well why. But he was testing my hand.

I said, perfectly straight faced although I was flat-out lying, "A female student came to me distraught. Apparently she was unable to take a class that she needed. And Mr. Piccardi used his influence to arrange for her to get into it."

The Deans eyes continued to narrow, so I added, "But he also forced her into a sexual liaison in return. And then threatened to tell her parents when she tried to end it. It's all here in this deposition - and I handed him the first one."

What I had told him was a lie. I had worked diligently to track down four coeds who Piccardi had fucked. I got their names through extensive mining of the campus rumor-mill.

Then I confronted each one of them. They were more than happy to cooperate. Apparently Piccardi is a real asshole when it comes to any woman he has fucked.

But more relevantly, the female students might have been led to believe that I was operating in a semi-official capacity. I didn't deny it.

I paid a lawyer to depose each of them. He smelled blood on the water so he was very-very thorough.

Essentially, what I had done was put the Dean and the University in a rock-and-a-hard-place.

The Dean is the chief academic officer. But he is essentially just a bureaucrat. He might have known about the incidents. And he would have buried each and every one of them if he did. But now, the cat was well-and-truly out of the bag. So if he didn't act he would essentially be condoning sexual harassment.

And nobody in modern academia wants to have that millstone hung around their neck.

The Dean glanced through the depositions. Then he looked at me with a certain amount of calculation. He was trying to figure out what it would take to make this all go away.

He said, "Well Jonathon - this is very thorough. Commendable work on your part."

In this politically correct universe he had to say that. He probably hated my guts for lighting the fire under his seat. But it didn't bother me. I was going to a new place anyhow.

I said, "I hope you are willing to do the responsible thing with Mr. Piccardi?"

I didn't need to outline my demands but I did anyhow. It just felt so delightful saying it.

I said, "According to the sexual harassment policy, which was approved by the Faculty Senate. There is no other option than immediate dismissal for cause. And the reason has to be noted on any future references."

I had to throw that in. I wanted to let the Dean know that the pack of over-entitled, prima-donnas who counterbalanced his authority on campus would be hearing about the situation.

That is - if he didn't do what I requested.

And given the number of mean, razor carrying bitches in the leadership of that group; the last thing the Dean wanted was to stir them up.

Moreover, he knew that I would take that step if I didn't get exactly what I wanted - which was Piccardi frog-marched off campus and the door slammed on any future career in academe.

I accepted that it wouldn't hurt Piccardi financially. He could always go back to the family's criminal enterprise. But being suddenly and unceremoniously banished from campus would be a huge blow to his ego.

Especially if I was standing there gloating as it happened.

The Dean was clearly very angry at me. He said, "We'll have to have a hearing about this."

I said, "You have the depositions. If you would like I can have Bob Swift give you a call to discuss the implications. He was the one who deposed Piccardi's victims."

That was the first time I had used the "V" word and it had its intended effect on the Dean.

Swift was the most ferocious ambulance chaser in Nassau County. So using the word "victim" and "implications" in the same sentence as "Swift" got the message across. I wanted Piccardi terminated with extreme prejudice and I wanted it now!!

Two hours later I was standing on the steps of the Administration Building as Piccardi was escorted out by three security guards.

He looked in my direction. I gave him a gloating sneer powered by all of the contempt and hatred I felt for him. He had deprived me of the love of my life. And now I was depriving him of his miserable career. Checkmate!!

As far as I was concerned exiling him didn't come close to balancing the books. But I'm a pragmatist and I knew it was the best I could get.

He started to turn toward me. At which point the guard on each side grabbed an arm and propelled him a little too forcefully toward the parking lot. I laughed mockingly as he was dragged off.

I knew that my humble little act of revenge had sold all of my stock with the University administration. But it was worth it just to witness Piccardi's humiliation. And it was time for me to move on anyhow.

I had been dropping lines in the pond since Zoe had self-destructed her way out of my life. And I was surprised at how many places were interested.

I finally worked out a deal to transfer - rank and tenure and all - to a University in Northwest Washington DC. It had an excellent School of International Studies and I could move my boat down to a little marina in the Anacostia River.

In short it was ideal.

But I had one major problem. Alice had been growing on me. And against every modicum of common sense I, I wanted to take her with me.

In the beginning she had been nothing more than a convenient receptacle to work out my own anger and betrayal issues. She made no demands. She was always happy to see me. She was devoted. And she provided loving companionship any time I wanted it.

In short - she was Buster.

But where Buster and Alice differed was in her incredible body. And the fact that she was willing to fuck me in more interesting ways than the Empress Theodora on MDMA.

Okay - Alice was still not a sparkling conversationalist. But after we started hanging out she stopped talking so much. I think she was just doing that because she was nervous.

And watching her expand her world-view was like taking your kid to the zoo.

The time I spent going to new places with Alice was like showing a bright and eager child a brave new world. And Alice might have been more insatiable about experiences than she was about sex. There was nothing new that didn't produce wonder and squeals of delight.

I was also beginning to think that Alice might not be as dumb as I had initially thought. In fact, there were random flashes of sheer brilliance in things that she said and did that made me wonder if she was not so much stupid, as she was immature.

That prospect brought out the Henry Higgins in me.

Alice was only 25. She was raised by a single mom who worked long hours as a waitress. As a result, Alice didn't have much in the way of adult guidance growing up.

And she had never spent any time outside of the Bethpage-Farmingdale area.

She might be incredibly sophisticated in sexual matters. But she didn't have to open her mind very far to learn how to spread her legs. She obviously liked sex - A LOT. But as I got to know her it almost seemed like she used sex as coin of the realm.

It was clear that Alice was pathetically eager to please. Which was no-doubt due to a massive load of childhood insecurities. And, it was like she thought the only thing of value that she had to offer was her incredible body. Which she was using as currency to buy acceptance.

That simply wasn't true. Alice had made it through a vocational high school with high marks. That was why she had what amounted-to an administrative assistant's skill-set. And everybody at the University considered her an extremely capable secretary.

But her ability to morph back and forth between Alice-the-Slut and Alice-the-Perfect-Secretary seemed less schizoid, then it was just an odd quirk. Interestingly though, she had one even odder quirk.

It was a REAL paradox - given the fact that Alice was more of a home-wrecker than a home-maker. Alice absolutely loved children.

Whenever she was around kids - be they children of her friends - or ones that were simply walking down the street - she would be energized and totally focused. In fact, nurturing children was the one thing that she did better than office work - and of course - fucking.

She had told me that she wanted at least a dozen kids. She made that pronouncement in her usual brainless fashion; while doing something complicated involving her legs on my shoulder.

It knocked me completely off stride and nearly shriveled me right out of her. But it also made me think that perhaps there was a powerful, but as yet unexplored river running somewhere deep down in her psyche.

She even claimed that she had given up her extracurricular activities to be with me.

It was sort of naively endearing that she thought that I gave a shit about who else she was fucking, since I still always wore a condom.

Nonetheless, I DID notice that she had gotten a lot tighter over the past couple of months. And Alice-the-capable-secretary tended to make appearances more frequently outside of working hours.

We rarely went out. I was afraid people might think we were a couple. And she was always happy to just hang around her apartment and fuck.

But once in a while I would guilt myself into taking her to dinner. I mean if you use someone as cynically as I did Alice, you might get concerned that it would reflect badly on you.

At first it was cheap chain restaurants. But as time went by the restaurants got more-and-more up-scale. And during that time Alice developed from a common whore to a much more refined version of her former self.

For one thing she began to dress like a grown-up, not a teenager. I think she got her fashion tips from observing other women. But wherever she got her ideas from, she was turning into a stunner now.

It all came together one night in early spring. I planned to take her to Waterzooi over in Garden City. I chose places slightly out of the area because I didn't want to run into anybody I knew. It is a nice little Bistro with Belgian food and a reputation for wine.

We had dinner reservations for 7:30. So I knocked on her door at 6:45. She opened the door and let me in looking nervous. The minute I saw her I knew why.

Alice was trying out a new incarnation of herself.

It was "Classy-Alice." She looked stylish and chic - and I might add beautiful.

Alice's body would give Michelangelo's David a hard-on. She has an amazing shape, slim where it should be and outrageous in all the other places. She was wearing a good quality wool blend little black dress, not too short in the leg and comparatively modestly scooped in the front.

She must have been wearing an industrial strength bra underneath. Because her tits were compacted into two massive pillows at her modest neckline. That effect was sexy, rather than slutty. the whole outfit looked tasteful and understated in an earth-goddess kind of way.

But the real wonder was her face. Alice only wears makeup at work. And I was not sure she even knew how to use it correctly. But she obviously did. Because she had gone all-out for me.

She has a classic girl next door face.

Yes... I said, "Girl next door."

What do you call a face that is round, with perfectly even features, a button nose, pretty little mouth and huge cornflower blue eyes? She even has a dusting of freckles. She finishes the impression off with a short cap of thick, naturally curly blond hair.

Like I said, "Girl next door!!"

Any stranger who saw Alice in this new incarnation would be blown away by her sheer beauty. I just stood there gaping.

She read that as disapproval and said panicked, "I'm sorry!! I can change!!"

I blurted, "By all means DON'T change!! You are gorgeous!!"

She turned almost purple with embarrassment. It suddenly dawned on me that I had never complimented her. In fact, maybe nobody had EVER given her a compliment - except perhaps for an exceptionally well executed blowjob.

The restaurant itself was an experience. From the moment we walked in I was aware that I had just shown up with the most eye-catching woman to grace that place in a while. Heads turned, men stared, women seethed with jealousy. The Maître'd fell all over himself seating us.

There were a couple of younger, very good looking men who were eyeing Alice like she was the main course. I had a sudden flashback to our time in Port Jefferson. I was totally bewildered by the lightning bolt of jealousy that shot through me.

How in the world could I be getting possessive of Alice?!!

The better looking of the two finally came over to our table. He had the good grace to extend his hand and introduce himself to me first. But it was obvious that he was there to talk to Alice.

He regarded her politely and said, "I know that this sounds like the world's oldest line. But I have the oddest feeling that I know you from somewhere."

Alice looked sphinxlike as she said, "Of course you do Tim. We spent four years in high school together."

He looked totally shocked and said, "It was a small class. And I don't remember you."

She said in her Alice-the-competent-secretary tone of voice, "You probably wouldn't remember me Tim. You were the rich big-man-on-campus and I was just a girl from the trailer park."

Then you could see it dawning on him. And he couldn't believe his eyes. He stammered, "Alice Whithers??"

She grinned and said, "In the flesh. And if I remember correctly there was a lot more flesh showing when you last saw me. It was the back seat of your dad's car I recall?"

She dropped that bombshell with total aplomb.

I thought to myself, "Is she actually trying to take a piece off this guy?"

Whatever it was it worked. He blushed and beat a hasty retreat back to his own table. He and his friend talked animatedly for a few seconds and they both swiveled their heads to gaze wonderingly at Alice. Who was just sitting there looking serenely self-contained.

She turned to me and said dismissively, "High school boys." They looked more like stock brokers to me but I was not going to argue.

We talked about her growing up all through dinner. I had never asked Alice anything about her life. I realized with embarrassment that my total disinterest in her history was one of the many gestures of disrespect that I had made toward her.

So I said, "I really want to get to know you better. Tell me about your life."

She had been born and raised in a trailer. Not even a double-wide. Father was MIA from the beginning. She claimed she had a happy childhood, even though her mother wasn't around much.

Alice smirked and said, "And when mother WAS around I got a real education in sex through those thin walls."

I thought of a pubescent girl lying there listening to the loud sounds of fucking night-after-night. And it gave me a much better understanding why Alice defined all of her social interactions in sexual terms.

She said, "I knew that I would have to lean a trade if I was going to ever be able to get out of there. So I worked and studied real hard in secretarial school. And when I graduated I got my job at the University."

She added as an afterthought, "Of course everybody I ever worked for wanted to fuck me."

She said it like that was standard business practice.

Then she went on with, "I would have fucked them. It was just sex after all. But I knew it was not appropriate. I learned that in my business ethics class in Voc. School."

I smiled at that. She must have said the same thing to every boss who ever tried to bend her over a desk. It was as if she was reciting a Sunday school lesson.

Then - perhaps for the first time ever - I looked directly into her eyes. She was smiling her usual vacuous smile. But her big cornflower blue eyes were carefully studying me. And shockingly, the intelligence in there was shrewd and focused.

The person behind those eyes was examining me like a researcher watching a lab rat.

And it hit me in a blinding flash of insight - SHE'S BEEN PLAYING ME!!

Have you ever had one of those moments when something you just assumed to be true turned out to be shockingly different? In that split second I realized that Alice wasn't brainless. She was totally and absolutely feral.

All-in-all I had to respect somebody that ingenious. Even the sex was phony. She wasn't mindlessly slutty. She had adopted the perfect camouflage. Nobody took her serious, or respected her. And NOBODY would EVER suspect a poor ignorant slut like Alice of being treacherous.

And so nobody sensed that she was manipulating them. Alice's big tits and slutty demeanor let her con every male into doing exactly what she wanted them to do. And every woman was vulnerable because they thought that she was a brainless lightweight.

I was beginning to think that I was sitting across the table from a woman who was slightly more calculating than Machiavelli himself.

The one thing that I knew for sure was that person was dangerous. Especially to anybody who got in her way.

It was probably the fact that she was starting to fall in love with me that had let me catch a glimpse behind the curtain. Maybe nobody had ever gotten that close before.

And that led to the final realization!! It sickened me.

I looked at her with sincerity and said, "This is all bullshit isn't it Alice? You did this. You broke Zoe and me up for some reason. What was it?"

The defenses were back up. Poor simple Fake-Alice was sitting there looking horrified. She said, with tears forming in her innocent childlike eyes, "That's just plain mean. How could you say something like that? Why are you picking on me?"

And one crystal tear ran down her cheek to plop on the tablecloth.

I looked disgusted and said, "Can it Alice! I KNOW now!! You stage-managed every aspect of this. Even Piccardi. Did you give him the idea to ask Zoe out?"

A shadow passed across her eyes. I had hit her with it so unexpectedly that she did not have the time to get to full DEFCON 1.

I knew it!!

I said, "You figured out that I would be devastated and you correctly guessed that I would turn to you as a way to retaliate - right? If not, you probably had contingencies planned."

Cracks began to appear in her façade. She got a sly look on her face. It was like a fox contemplating a particularly delectable hen. It was the scariest thing I had ever seen.

I said, "That gangbang in the parking lot. It was meant to get my attention wasn't it? You wanted to kick-start my thinking about sex with you. You were showing me what it was like. It was all a cold bloodedly deliberate act on your part - wasn't it?"

She smiled wickedly and drawled, "It worked didn't it, lover?"

I continued with, "And the shit you laid on Zoe - that was your idea - not Piccardi's. He just went along with it because he wanted into Zoe's pants."

Then I stopped and said, "Which one of you knew Zoe's history? It strikes me that Piccardi isn't bright enough to control subsequent events so skillfully."