Chapter 1
Don Haywood snapped the valise shut and locked it. He stepped back and looked around his small, academic office. He felt as if he were saying good-bye to an old and trusted friend.
The book-lined walls reminded him of all his years at Blair State College; those undergraduate years, the years he labored for his degrees, and those gratifying years as an associate professor of classical languages. And now he was leaving it all. Leaving it for the unknown chore of representing his college to the high school graduates of the country. He felt a chill of apprehension run down his spine. Don did not like the unknown. He went to it only because it was his duty. But even duty now had a sexual connotation.
After he had made a complete circle of the room with his eyes, Don walked to the large windows that looked over the huge expanse of the campus. It had grown dark and the black, old English type street lights beamed their yellow glow over the walks. Students, alone, in groups, and by the couple, were making their way along the walks, having quitted the late laboratory classes. Don looked at the young people and felt lonely. He felt far removed from them, yet he knew the flutter of kinship and he reminded himself once again that he was a young man, only thirty, with much of his youthful life still ahead of him. And then, as had been the pattern lately, he thought of wild, uninhibited fucking. And he thought of it in seldom-used terms that had always been taboo. Don started to turn from the window, then stopped. The bounce of young bodies had detained him. Several young girls were hurrying down the closest walk and Don stared at them. He could not keep from watching the jiggle of their tits, the bounce of their juicy asses, and the quick sway of their young bodies as they hurried across the campus. And as he watched them move, he felt the very definite and strong response of his emotions for them. He wished that he did not. He tried to deny the quick surge of desire that rocked him. But he could not. It was as if he had been captured by the sight of them and could not free himself until they were gone. Finally, with great effort, and creating the picture of a man tearing himself from some evil image, he turned from the window. Then he felt the shiver of apprehension again. Lately, it had been like an unhappy friend, coming to him often to spread evil and temptation. For a few moments, Don thought about it, wondering why he should suddenly be taken with all the youthful bodies about him. It had never happened before. He hated the impulses he felt, yet he could not subdue them. Soon, he forced himself to a glimmer of hope. He would be leaving Wayne, would soon be away from all the delightful college girls. He would be with those of much younger years, the high school girls and boys who desired admission to Wayne. It was good, Don decided, that a change had come to his work, that the routine of years was to be broken by travel and new environments. Perhaps, away from Blair for a spell, he would know a lessening of the strange desires that growled within him.
Don turned from the window, checked his desk once more and saw that it was empty. Looked at his luggage which was neatly stacked in a comer of the room, then turned from these exciting signs of travel and adventure and headed out of the office. Just as he reached his hand out to turn the knob of his office door, it burst open.
Don recoiled as if he had been hit. But he smiled quickly and sighed in relief when he saw that his caller was Cass Bigelow, the new college counselor who was to be his partner among the applicant-bushes of the nation's high schools.
"Hi," she said pleasantly. "All packed?"
"I think so," Don answered, unable, as he spoke, to keep his eyes from a quick sweep of the young woman's body. And Cass's body was something very sweet to sweep, Don decided as he saw her large tits puff out from a simple, white blouse, as he noticed the flare of good hips that descended to firm thighs and shapely legs like the gradual and dramatic sweep of sand dunes to a hot, flat beach.
"I've been ready for days," she said. "I can't wait. It's going to be so exciting."
"It is?" he questioned dumbly.
"Of course," she answered. "We'll see all this country, we'll interview all those great kids who want to go to Wayne, we'll get the feel of small towns and big cities-of course it'll be exciting."
Don laughed, then said, "I wasn't thinking of it along those lines. You do make it sound exciting."
"It could be even more so," she said, laughing. She stepped closer and let the door click shut behind her. Then she said, "I had a little talk with the Dean this afternoon. We went over expense items."
"You did?"
"Yip," she giggled like a schoolgirl. "I thought he was about to suggest that we share a room for the tour in order to cut down on expenses."
"Oh, really now," Don said, flushing.
"Don't look so shocked," Cass said. "I thought you were the one member of the faculty who would do anything for good old Blair State."
"Well, I-of course, I-."
"Stop stammering like a freshman," she said. "I'm only joking." She paused, then added, "For now, that is."
"Oh, really now," Don said again.
Cass grinned impishly, obviously enjoying Don's embarrassment. Her smile was not that of a college counselor. It was too theatrical and sensual for that. Her mouth was wide and very red, and it seemed to lighten the glint of her blonde hair. It seemed too, an inducement for one to look at the rest of her body which, very unacademic-like, shouted sexuality in a tone as loud as that used for any Homecoming Queen.
"You know," Cass said, "I've been trying to figure you out ever since I came to Blair last September. Here it is April, and I haven't got you classified yet."
"That's the trouble with you biologists," Don said. "Always trying to make classifications."
"It's a handy practice, my friend. Proper, initial classification saves time."
"But you haven't made it with me, eh?" Don asked.
"Not yet, but I intend to before our tour is over."
"Oh, you do, eh?"
"I'm dedicated to it," she said, stepping another baby-step nearer Don. She raised her hand to his chest which was a good, manly chest, wide and hard above slim hips and a narrow waist. Then she said, "As an example, I'm curious about you and women. Do you like them? If you don't now, have you ever? Why do you try to avoid me at every turn? Why did you tell the Dean that you didn't think I was the one to represent Blair with the high school graduates. Why?"
"Oh, you know about that, eh?" Don said, flushing a deeper pink.
"Of course I do, and I'm not the least bit angry about it."
"You're not?"
"No. You see, I know that you were prompted to reject me as part of your defense mechanism. You've been afraid to have me around because you're so attracted to me."
"That's the way you have it figured," he said, laughing a bit, doing this in order to prevent a deepening of the flush at his neck and cheeks.
"Uh huh. Isn't it the truth?"
"Oh, my word," Don exclaimed. "You people in biology and psychology are always-looking for hidden motivations. It's a wonder you ever make any sense at all."
"But we do," she replied. "As much, I must say, as the classical linguists make out of Latin and Greek-especially the way they translate the early plays and their meaning."
"Touche," Don laughed. "Don't dig the saber any deeper."
Cass laughed too and it was like the light, foamy lift of a swirling wave: young, carefree, wild and uninhibited.
Cass glanced at his luggage, then she turned to him and said, "Look, it's early and we don't have to catch the plane until late. Why don't you come to my place for cocktails and dinner-I'll grill you a steak."
"Well, that's very nice," Don responded quickly. "It really is, and I would enjoy it, but I have a thousand things to do at the apartment before I retire."
For a moment, Cass frowned, but then it disappeared and she said, "All right then, how about me coming to your place and fixing you drinks and dinner while you work?"
Don looked into her blue-green eyes, then glanced away. "I'm sorry, it would distract me."
"You're so honest you're damn near rude," she said, anger sharpening her words.
"I'm sorry."
"The hell you are," she said, her voice rising.
"Shhhh," he said, looking around as if they were being observed.
"I don't 'shhh'," she replied.
"Well then, just forgive me and try to understand-just this once," he said, looking at her again.
"I would if it was the first time," she said. "But you've been dodging me for months. It's as if I-as if I had the plague or something."
"You haven't, I assure you," he said softly, sighing as if he regretted those conservative things within himself that prevented him from the naturalness with women that he truly desired.
Cass turned and moved to the door. She opened it. Then she said, "All right, Don Haywood, A.B., M.A., Ph.D., and all the formal jazz that seems to mean more to you than a good time. But remember, I'm not taking this as a rejection-only as a lull. I'll see you at the plane, baby, then we can buzz off together."
"Shhhhh," Don said again, looking at the open door and the long corridor behind it.
Cass laughed, then said, "I wonder what it's going to be like when you stop 'shhhhhhing' and start doing."
Don made no reply. He merely stood there as she smiled again, then turned and closed the door behind her.
He remained very still for a long time, maintaining the woman-scent of Cass Bigelow in his nostrils, still visualizing her exquisite, un-scholar-like body, remembering her laugh and the high lift of her breasts. Silently, he cursed himself and told himself that he was a prude, that he should have done what he wanted, not what caution dictated, and he had a flashing thought of himself at ease, with a cocktail in his hand, sitting close to Cass on a couch in her small, intimate apartment. And for some remarkable, unconscious reason, the vocabulary in his mind changed, and turned obscene.
He could see the swell of her tits as they pressed against the sheer fabric of her evening dress. Cass had a smile on her face, but she was not smiling at Don.
Cass stood up, put her drink on the coffee table and pulled her dress off over head. In his mind, Don could see himself sitting on the sofa, sipping his drink, watching Cass. She smiled down on him and motioned for him to take his clothing off. He shook his head and continued to enjoy the full expanse of her lush, excited body.
Her only clothing now were her panties, the sheer brief bikini type, and a small bra.
She whisked those off in a moment and then stood nude in front of Don. He remained on the sofa, his tongue snaking out to moisten his lips as he saw the full beauty of Cass's fantastically sexual body. He yearned to fuck her more than anything in the world. He could feel his prick, hard and stiffened, trying to snap through the material that bound it. Cass was smiling at him, inviting him between her spread legs. "Come suck my cunt, Don-do it for Blair State!"
He rushed to her and fell to his knees, pushing his face into her cunt and probing and gouging with his tongue. She had a sweet-tasting cunt and he rolled his face and twisted his tongue and had her holding his head and goading him, pushing him onwards.
Something brought Don back to reality.
Then Don rejected the mental images, and the fantasies he had created, picked up his valise and walked out of the office without glancing back.
He moved slowly down the walk that led to the faculty parking lot. He breathed deeply, enjoying the soft caress of the early Spring night as the fresh air rushed to fill his lungs. It was a good feeling. A young feeling. One that he knew well but was without precedent for youthfulness. His early years had known many such nights, but they had not been made for his enjoyment, instead they had been a part of the hard toil he endured in order to attain those things he wanted: a secure position at the college he had attended, the one in which he believed and loved to serve.
A boy and a girl, their arms entwined, slowly strolled in front of Don at an intersecting path. He felt a thump of excitement. He observed the girl and saw that the boy's hand completely circled her waist and cupped at her breast. He wondered what the boy must be feeling, what he must be anticipating. And he wondered how the girl's breast felt beneath the boy's hand; if it quivered, if the nipples had enlarged, if she matched the boy's anticipation for aloneness and carresses.
Don quickened his step down the path.
At the parking lot, Don paused. Here, there were no lights and he strained his eyes to locate his car at the end of the lot. He wondered why he did not remember leaving it there, then thought how lately he had been absent-minded, had forgotten many things. He wondered what caused this within him.
Don moved forward down the narrow path that separated the rows of cars. From some he heard the soft noises of lovemaking and he reminded himself again that he must mention at the next faculty meeting that many students were using faculty cars as the setting for their indiscretions. Then he had a new thought. He recalled that he had been ready to present this information at the last several meetings, yet he had always refrained from this disclosure. Why? Was he protecting innocence, he asked himself. Why did he always hesitate to talk of the sexual side of students? Why? Why?
At his car, Don breathed deeply, lifted the valise to the crook of his arm, then turned the handle and pulled open the door of the dark, conservative sedan.
He tossed his valise to the far seat. Then he crawled into the car, pulled the door shut behind him and adjusted his position behind the steering wheel. He was reaching the key into the ignition when he heard the sound behind him. He paused. Then, certain that his ears had deceived him, he inserted the key and started to turn it when once more he heard the soft, muffled sound of feminine breathing. He turned and looked into the back seat.
His first impulse was to yell out in shock. But the small auburn haired girl looked so sweet and so comfortable curled and sleeping in the back seat of his car, that he quieted his shock and stared unabashedly at her young body.
The girl looked to be about sixteen. She wore the simple, but revealing outfit of a high school girl. Her hair was auburn and even without seeing them Don knew that her eyes would be large and brown. Her short skirt had crept high to her thighs, revealing the long white of her bare legs. She had kicked off shoes and her toes were curled like those of a cat, ready for attack even in sleep. But it was the posture of the girl's breasts which most intrigued Don. Her blouse was open at the throat and her bare breasts bulged outward and rested sideways on the car seat. They seemed cuddled on her side. Don looked closer and was very sure that the girl did not wear a bra. As his eyes adjusted to the delightful sight of her, he knew definitely that she was without the encumbrance of underclothing for her nipples were fully revealed to him. They were erect and hard-looking, and Don wondered what dreams she entertained to make them this way. One knee was bent high to the bottom of her breasts, causing one round, perfectly moulded buttock to jut sassily. He longed to suck her cunt, lick her tits, plunge his cock madly into her sweet ass.
Don had hardly breathed since discovering the girl. But lack of this necessary function did not in any way impede his reaction to the lovely stranger. His chest clogged with desire-he admitted quickly that this is what it was. His hands felt moist. There was a noticeable quiver at his finger tips, and this told him that his face had creased with lines, that his dark brown eyes had darkened even more. Quickly, he brushed at his close-cropped hair in a gesture of nervousness. Then he leaned further across the back of the seat. He extended his right hand outward, ready to touch the girl, to awaken her gently and without fright, but it proved unnecessary.
The girl's big eyes blinked. Then they opened wide. A slight smile tugged at the comers of her full, red mouth. Then, like a sleepy cat, she stretched in a way that made all of her body curl tightly, then release like a spring, quivering her breasts, moving her bare legs, squeezing her waist and thighs.
"Hi, Professor Haywood," the girl said in a sleepy, deeply sensual voice. "Man, were you ever a long time coming."
"I beg you pardon?" Don said, pushing away from her.
The girl scooted her body to an upright position. Although her skirt momentarily covered her legs, it hiked high again when she settled her rear into the seat. She made no move to cover the several inches of bare thigh that was fully exposed to his view. Nor did she made any move to close the open bodice of her blouse. Her naked tits continued to bulge from the garment. Her nipples continued to puff audaciously at Don.
"This is very irregular," Don said, then stopped, then tried again by saying," 'Perhaps you're in the wrong car. Perhaps you were waiting for someone else?"
"Uh, uh, Prof, it's you I'm waiting for."
"Really?"
The girl giggled and pushed forward. She hung her arms and chin on the back seat, staring at Clark. "You're cute-much more handsome than I thought a professor could be."
"Look here now," Don said, making his voice stern. "I resent this intrusion, young lady. And I resent you acting as if it's perfectly normal-that; it's right that you should steal into my car, lie low, wait for me, then-then-."
"Relax, Prof," the girl said. "I came a long ways to see you. I tried reaching you through the switchboard but they wouldn't put me through."
"No, of course not. I wasn't accepting calls today."
"I know. So, I found a real nice boy who pointed your car out to me and I decided to curl up and wait until you showed." Don eyed her pink nipples and felt his mouth go dry.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"Lisa Dewey."
"And where are you from, Miss Dewey?"
"From Benton, and please call me Lisa like all my teachers do."
"Benton? Good heavens, that's two hundred miles from here."
"I know it. Believe me, after hitching rides and fighting off truck drivers, I know it's two hundred miles. But I'm here and I have to talk to you Professor."
"You're doing just that," he said.
"I mean talk to you about Blair State admitting me in the autumn."
"This is hardly the place to discuss your application," Don said.
"I think it's exactly the place to discuss it."
Lisa smiled, then in a quick motion, one that told of her agility and strength, she hoisted herself over the seat, kicked his valise to the floor, and landed next to him. Her skirt-that magical skirt-remained high above her thighs. Her blouse-that sweet, innocent blouse-remained open and her breasts introduced themselves more fully to Don.
Lisa twisted in her seat and smiled at Don. Then she said, "Look, Professor, I know this is unorthodox, that I should wait until you come to Benton High to discuss my application for Blair. But I can't wait. I can't stand it any longer. I just have to be accepted by Blair. I'll die if I'm not."
Don felt a glow of pride for the college of his heart. He felt, as he always felt when a youngster showed interest in Blair State, the value and soundness of his school's traditions. Thinking of it, being reminded of it again, softened his voice.
"Well, I can certainly understand your interest in Blair," he said. "But it really wasn't necessary to come here to see me. Benton High is on our schedule and Miss Bigelow and I will be interviewing as many students as there are who show interest in Blair. So, why don't you just run along now. I'll be interviewing you soon."
She scooted closer to him, then said, "But I can't wait. I can't. I'm in the upper one per cent of my senior class and I've been in all sorts of activities and I just have to know that Blair will accept me."
"What about personality traits and character?" he asked, falling easily into the pattern of interviewing despite the strange setting.
"That's what worrying me," Lisa said. "I've been in a few capers."
"Capers?"
"Boys mostly. Getting caught with them, you know. In the physics lab once, a couple of times under the stadium bleachers, in cars-."
"Cars? Like this? My word!"
"Just like this, Professor," she said, moving closer so that her bare breasts brushed lightly against his forearm. His cock strained against his clothing.
Don wanted to move away from the girl's closeness. But he could not. The feel of her skin was so delightful, so warm, so promising, so, so different from anything he remembered ever feeling, that he even bumped his arm forward a bit in order to feel the greater cuddling of her against him. And as he felt the hot imprint her nipple made on his arm, that seared right through clothing to his flesh, Don had a flashing thought of Cass Bigelow, thought of her and her gay, carefree manner, and he felt the greatest impulse to join it, to learn from it, to partake of every exciting thing that might be offered him. And the exciting offering of young-girl-flesh cuddled harder against him as Lisa readjusted her position so that one bare thigh could come in contact with his leg.
She raised her hand and placed it on his shoulder. He did not bolt away from her fingers that touched him lightly, then gently kneaded. Nor did he shift his leg from her pressing thigh.
"You don't think little things like that will keep me out of Blair, do you?" she asked.
"Well, I don't know," he told her. "We're very fussy about our applicants."
"But you are the one who recommends students, aren't you, Professor?"
"Yes, that is my responsibility. A very great responsibility, I might add."
"And Blair is a very liberal school," Lisa offered.
Don't twist it, child," Don said sternly. "Blair is a liberal arts school."
Lisa twisted again. She turned her shoulders so that her breasts pointed directly at his chest. As she moved, her flesh rubbed hard against his arm. She squirmed her legs forward a bit and before Don knew what was happening, he felt her thighs on either side of his right knee. It was an engrossing position, he thought. He wondered how the girl could so quickly have attained it with a stranger, even a stranger who was the representative of an old and sedate college.
Don did not speak as he felt her thighs close a bit, imprisoning his knee. And he ceased breathing again when quite without self-consciousness, the girl reached her hand from his shoulder, trailed it down his chest, patted briefly at his stomach, then lowered it still more.
"Look," she said, "I'll do anything to get into Blair. Now how about it, can we make a deal?"
For a moment Don merely listened to her voice, the way it had changed, had grown crusty and hard and definite. It intrigued him. He wondered what it was that brought that change in her.
Don blinked. And it was in that brief moment that he forgot responsibility, tradition, all of the things of his life except those that he had missed, those things that were suddenly available to him in the young person of Lisa Dewey.
He turned toward the girl as she crushed herself against him.
Don felt very inept, but he was in the grips of a fuck passion that was totally uncontrollable. He knew that what he was going to do was stupid and risky, but he had to fuck the sweet, tender body of Lisa Dewey. He wanted to fuck her until her tiny teenage pussy was screaming with the burden of accepting his prick-he wanted to fuck her until the little girl's face rolled to his and asked for mercy from his pounding, savage cock. Don wanted it all.
She twisted under him and reached for his crotch, but Don knocked her hand away and fished his prick out. "Suck it, girl," he said, and she fell eagerly to the task. Her slurping, dripping mouth was an erotic scene for Don, and he held her head in his hands and pumped his cock in and out, in and out. He told her to go down on it and swallow it into her throat or he'd stick it there, and she did. She swallowed it all and squeezed his prick with her throat muscles, and when he told her he was going to come in her mouth she tried to move away, but he held her head and shot spurt after spurt into her waiting mouth.
But Don wasn't through with Lisa. He told her to sit up and pull her dress up, which she did, showing him the sweetest pussy he'd ever seen in his life. He bent over and gently began to suck on the opening of her split and she sighed and allowed her legs to fall open.
He wanted to suck her as hard as he could, drain her of all her love gunk and make her know that he was a man. He sucked and swallowed greedily for over ten minutes, and Lisa was running her fingers through his hair and pushing that sweet cunt up at him and coming about once a minute.
Then he told her to get into the comer of the car because he wanted to fuck her. Lisa looked at him with a strange light in her eyes, almost saying that it was impossible for a professor to act this way. Don caught the look and realized that for the first time in his life he was giving vent to the emotions and the urges that he'd been carrying around for years.
She got into the position that he ordered and then he slid his giant, twisted prick deep into her tight, juicy cunt. Lisa liked that-she always had. Anytime a boy wanted to stick his prick into her cunt she was more than willing. It gave her a feeling of power to know that all the men in the world would want to stick their pricks in her sweet cunt. The professor certainly did, she knew that.
Don pumped and pumped and he delighted in the feel of the teenage pussy under him. Never had he introduced his cock into a cunt as tight or warm or juicy-it was like a machine that milked cocks, and when you combined that with the biggest, loveliest set of sucking tits he'd ever seen and a baby face that he'd just sunk his cock into a few minutes earlier, it was easy to see what he was so excited about.
He came just then, and so did she. Then there was the embarrassment of adjusting clothing and Lisa's chatter as Don drove her to the bus station. And then there were good-byes.
"Good-bye, darling," the girl said as she moved out of the car. "I'll see you when you get to Benton."
"Yes, I'll see you then," he answered slowly.
She threw him a kiss, then disappeared into the bus depot.
Don smiled. He felt very young and competent. And although he knew that he had committed an indiscretion that would no doubt have horrible consequences, he could not consider it too long, for the warmth and love that the sixteen-year-old girl had given him was still felt at every part of his body.
For once in his life, Don knew the taste of a young girl's cunt in his mouth.