Chapter 3
Laurie lived the following week in silent terror. She dreaded the worst: that whoever had seen her and Danny making out, would get word back to the Dean. And then she imagined the angry and aged administrator summoning her to his office, brandishing her as a teenage whore, expelling her from school. But the ire of the Dean would be slight, compared with the fanatic, venomous rage of her mother. Her mother was a killer with words, and words, Laurie thought, could hurt you more than having your pants pulled down and getting your bare behind whipped with a leather belt. But her fears, so it seemed, were groundless. The week passed without incident. The Peeping Tom had decided, apparently, to keep the secret to himself. Laurie was safe.
Danny was just as cheered as she was. They had elected to avoid each other for a while to "cool it" but since nothing further had happened, Danny was encouraged to ask Laurie for another date.
"I think we ought to wait a few more days," she told him, and though sex was not mentioned in so many words, she knew Danny wanted to do it to her again, and just as badly, she wanted it done.
"Don't you think we're playing it too cool?"
"Maybe. But I want to be sure."
He shot her the hungry dog look. The brooder.
"If we were careful...."
"We better not," she said. He licked his lips. His eyes went to her breasts.
"Laurie ... "
"A few more days. Then we'll know for sure."
He shrugged dismally, then went on to his class. Laurie smiled inwardly. At least she'd accomplished something: Danny was no longer thinking and talking hot rods!
By the following Monday, Laurie was convinced that all was well. She'd returned to wearing the little girl gingerbread dresses ... racy and mini sized, they were ... and her flirty smile was back, and so was her desire to please and tease. She knew her body was provocative ... she'd known that since she was 12-years-old ... and as long as men liked to look at young girls in revealing short-short skirts and dresses ... well, why not?
Swinging her saucy behind to and fro, conscious of the male stares that fed on her body, she exited from the chemistry lab and made her way across the campus to the Admissions building. She wanted to inspect her mailbox, see if there was a letter from her mother.
As she expected, the letter, a sort of Monday regular, did arrive. But of somewhat a surprise was a second letter, an unstamped inter-campus note from Professor Richardson, asking her to stop by the Psychology building during the Monday lunch hour.
Laurie's first reaction was a gush of excitement. Professor Richardson was the campus dreamboat; tall and young, blue-eyed and sandy-haired, given to spontaneous, eager smiles that made Laurie's heart jump a beat every time the Professor looked at her. Many of the student body mistook Richardson for one of their own and it was an easy error to make, since Richardson wore casual sportswear and exuded such a warm, easy manner; and few would reason that this pleasant and handsome bachelor-boy professor was the son of the dean. Richardson senior was a fearsome, granite-faced old man, the symbol of all that was hallowed in Tri-Central's long ago past.
But Laurie wasn't thinking of the "old man" as she rushed excitedly toward the Psychology building; instead, she was thinking of his young, good-looking son, second-guessing what he wanted of her. He'd asked to see her today, which lent the note a certain urgency, because if it was not important, he would have made it Tuesday or Thursday, the days which she normally attended his classes. Could it be about her grades?
Now drawing closer and closer, she felt the quick invasion of alarm. The professor's sudden and seemingly urgent request for an in-private consultation could mean only one thing-she had flunked Richardson's latest exam.
Dwelling on the worst, Laurie was understandably unnerved when she entered the empty classroom where he sat at his desk grading papers. He scarcely looked at her as she treaded gingerly up to his desk, and Laurie had a sinking feeling in her stomach. It was her exam paper. She just knew it.
"Draw up a chair, Miss Denton. I'll be with you in just a second."
Laurie's alarm grew and grew. Professor Richardson's voice was unaccountably business-like.
"I could come back later if you're busy."
"Now will do just fine, Miss Denton. Just be seated."
Laurie swallowed a lump in her throat. She drew up a chair and sat down, and her position on the chair was precarious, much to the edge of it, as though the chair were booby-trapped, set to explode at any moment.
Suddenly the professor removed his glasses, pushed his papers aside. He leaned back in his swivel chair, his strong tanned hands clasped behind his head. Laurie thought he would smile, that his bland, casual manner would now assert itself, but she was wrong. He was as unsmiling as the Sphinx, accusatorial in his deadpan stare. Self-conscious, completely rattled by him, Laurie wished he would say whatever was on his mind. If she had flunked an exam....
"Miss Denton, how do you like college life?" he asked suddenly.
She smiled uncertainly.
"Well ... fine. Just fine."
"And you're how old?"
"Eighteen."
Professor Richardson compressed his lips and his eyes roamed over her, and it seemed to Laurie as if she were being appraised. But appraised for what?
"That's a very pretty skirt you have on, Miss Denton. Very pretty, indeed."
Laurie flushed. Her confusion mounted and what he had just said was completely apart from his opening questions.
"It's not only pretty," he said, following her mumbled 'thank you,' "but it's also pretty short."
Laurie pressed her bare knees together and pulled down on her skirt
"It's the way they're wearing them, professor."
He conceded a smile.
"I'm sure it is." His smile faded. "And do you like to wear such clothes?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said d'you like to wear such clothes."
"I never thought about it"
"Don't you want to be appealing?"
"Well ... of course. Who doesn't?"
"And get men excited?"
Laurie reached the final stages of confusion and embarrassment. Her mind refused to function to logical sequence and her words were lost during a red-faced stutter. Anger was born.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of," he went on, "because if you're cute and your body is appealing and sexy, then that makes you more fortunate than many of your peers."
Laurie decided hat she'd checked her tongue and her curiosity too long. She said, "What was it you wanted to see me about professor?"
"I suppose we'd best get on with that," he said, selecting some papers from his desk, and causing Laurie to think: Well here it comes! He's got those damn exam papers...."
"I've got a special project I'm selecting you to work on during your spare time, Miss Denton, and I think you're exceptionally well-qualified for it."
Laurie was enormously relieved. And flattered. And pleased.
"What kind of project?" she said, smiling.
"You're going to do some undercover work for me ... secret, of course."
Laurie felt a genuine swell of pride. Of all his students, male and female, freshmen through senior, he'd selected her for this special of special jobs.
"Can you dance?" he asked, exploring her with more than casual interst.
"I practically lived on a dance floor before I started college "
"Good!" lie said. "Splendid." He put down his papers. "I suppose that includes this go-go business, too?"
"Like anything from way out to way in," she said eagerly.
"Show me."
Laurie shot him a quizzical glance.
"Are you putting me on?"
"I'm serious."
"But without music?"
"Just the motions."
"Okay," she said with a shrug. "You asked for it."
She came to her feet and gyrated her hips to several bars of imaginary music. The professor, it seemed, was transfixed by the thrust of her young breasts; and it wasn't simply their thrust, but it was the fact that she now wore a very loose-fitting bra, so her swollen melons had the freedom that allowed them to bounce and jiggle.
"Enough?" she asked, slouching back in the chair, unmindful that her miniskirt had hiked up considerably.
"You'll do fine," he commented vacantly, but his eyes remained trapped by the exciting display of flesh she revealed.
"Tell me about the project," she said, relishing his excitement.
"The project? Oh, yes ... yes, the project." He swung his gaze back to his desk after considerable difficulty. Then he began: "My father, Miss Denton...."
"You can call me Laurie, if you like."
"Very well ... my father you doubtlessly know, is and has been dean of Tri-Central for the past twenty-odd years. They've been devoted years, and speaking for the old man, I'd venture they've been happy years."
He paused, registering tacit approval of the rise of Laurie's miniskirt, then continued.
"In another three years, Miss ... Laurie ... he'll retire. He's confided this to me in private and he's not one to reverse his plans."
He again paused, his eyes drawn to the tempting sight between her slightly parted bare legs. Laurie knew he was getting an eyeful but she rather liked the attention ... especially when it was coming from Professor Richardson.
"As to his retirement," he said, starting anew, "there are certain factions on the Board of Trustees who'd like to hasten the change."
He explained that it was a political thing, that college boards were apt to be fickle, and that as they annexed new members, radical changes were likely to take place.
"These sweeping changes are seldom fair and very frequently people get hurt. But it's the Board we answer to and the Board that delivers the ax."
Laurie didn't quite understand what this was all about, although it seemed apparent that the dean, for one reason or another, was about to be dismissed.
"To justify their actions, the Board will attempt to discredit the old man, which is where you come in."
"Me?"
"The Board has heard rumors that pot is being sold on the campus, that young girls are smoking it, that in a few months it'll be LSD, or something worse."
Laurie was shocked. She believed Tri-Central to be free of such junk.
"I don't necessarily subscribe to this notion," he went on, "but this is the sort of rumor which, if it's allowed to grow, can cause serious trouble for the whole school, and most particularly for my father."
Laurie was begining to understand. Someone had spread the rumor on purpose. Someone on the Board of Trustees.
"Eventually," he continued, "the police will investigate...."
"And they won't find a thing," Laurie finished. "They'll know it's just a pack of lies."
"That's what I want to find out ahead of time," he told her. "If it's true-even in part we'll nip it in the bud. On the other hand, if it is simply a fabrication, and I think it is, then we can tell that Board of Trustees to pound salt, and if they want to call in the authorities, let 'em go and do it. They'll only make fools of themselves."
"Where do I come in?" Laurie asked, crossing her legs.
The professor had obviously caught a glimpse of her panties. He was visibly excited, squirming uncomfortably, and Laurie gloated with pride.
"You're going to be a sort of spy," he said.
"You want me to find out things?"
"Right! I want to know if marijuana is being distributed on campus, by whom, when, how."
"Why would they tell me?"
"They won't." He gazed at her thighs briefly.
"But you're going to be at the right place at the right time and we'll find out."
"But...."
"You said you like to dance, Laurie. Now you'll have your chance." He drew closer, his dark eyes darting from her generously exposed thighs to her swollen teenage breasts. "I'm arranging for you to take a job as a go-go dancer in a place called Carbo's Cave. Ever hear of it?
"Like who hasn't?" she said excitedly. The Cave was just about the coolest off-campus hangout in town. A jivey, jumping kind of joint that catered mostly to the college crowd, but if an outsider wanted to make the circuit with the young stuff, the Cave was the place.
"Think you could do the dance bit?" he asked.
Laurie hesitated. The dance ... yes; but the skimpy costume those girls wear, having all the people staring at you....
"Gee, I don't know. I mean-"
"You'll do fine," he said, slapping her playfully on the thigh; and the touch of his hand the first time he made any personal contact with her-sent warm shivers of excitement running through her body. And his hand remained on her thigh as he continued: "That'll be the first step ... getting you a job in this place. Then you'll keep your eyes and ears open, attend the after hours parties that I understand they have, and you'll make the friendship of Eddie Prohaska...."
"Who's he?"
"Tri-Central senior. Self-styled lover-boy. Got his hands in everything and if there's any marijuana around, Prohaska's the boy that'll have it."
"You want me to go out with him?"
"And others. It's the only way you can get information."
Laurie wasn't so sure she wanted to be the professor's undercover agent. She wanted to help him, sure. But going out with other guys....
"Couldn't you get somebody else?" she said, frowning.
"I could," he answered, "but you're perfect for the part."
"Me?"
"You're the hottest little thing on the campus Laurie, and that's the truth."
She flushed. She lowered her eyes, stared absently at the back of his hand, still resting on her thigh.
The professor continued, "And once they accept you into their tight group there at the Cave-Laurie, you're a natural!"
She still hadn't made up her mind. And there was her homework to consider, and Danny, and her mother.
"I don't think I ought to," she said weakly. "But if there's some other way I could help you ... like maybe grading papers or something...."
His hand investigated more of the warmth of her thigh. Laurie thrilled. And she was speechless, remembering that when she was very young ... about 12 ... a similar thing had happened to her in a movie house she'd attended. A man had sat next to her, minutes later he put his hand under her dress. She was startled then just as she was now, speechless, thrilled and frightened all at the same time. But the man's hand had persisted upward to her pink nylon panties and a warm good feeling rushed over her, so she simply sat back and permitted him to do whatever he wished, which, as she recalled pleasantly, was quite a bit.
But now the professor was doing much the same thing, startling her with the unexpected pleasure of his hands, and she wanted to do as she'd done that afternoon in the movie house; slump down in her seat, spread her cute legs wide apart, be fondled at will.
"You kind of like sex, don't you, Laurie?"
She felt her face redden.
"Don't be embarrassed," he said. "Lots of girls like sex. Young girls. And I knew you were one of them when I saw you and that boy in the car the other night."
Laurie's face boiled with hotness. The professor was laughing and it made Laurie wish she could suddenly become invisible.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of," he said, still stroking her thigh. "Sex is here to stay. Premarital sex, young sex, old sex, all kinds of sex, and the fact that you're already experienced ... His hand shot up to her panties. Laurie wasn't sure if she was thrilled or angry.
She said, "You didn't have to put it that way."
"Why not?" he said casually. "Sex is going to happen now and forever, so let's not have a trauma over it."
"I'm not having a trauma."
"I should hope not," he said, rubbing her legs to make her hot. "And if you'd be completely honest with me ... well, they're have been others, haven't there?"
"How did you...."
"Find out?" He grinned like a high school freshman. "Laurie, I know it was underhanded of me, but I had to know about you, so I hired an investigator." Some of his smile faded. He picked up a folder from his desk, flipped it open.
"And he reports back that you were fooling around with boys as early as your junior high school years, and then when you were in your senior year, there was this group of boys-"
Laurie fumed with anger. She jerked her skirt down, stood up to leave.
"I don't think any of this is very nice," she said, near tears.
"But I had to know, Laurie. I had to." He drew her into his arms. "Do you think I intententionally set out to hurt you?"
"I don't know what to think."
"Well you needn't think that. I'm in this because I have to be and I need a young girl who can get into this situation and get me the information I want. Somebody smart, somebody daring.
"I needed somebody that wasn't afraid of sex, and yet somebody who looked young and innocent and could catch these boys off-guard ... that is, see if there is any wholesale use of drugs on the campus, and you ... you're the girl who can do it, Laurie."
"Because I let boys screw me in the back seats of cars."
"Well...."
"And because I goofed off a little bit while I was going to high school."
"That's putting it the brassy way."
"But that's why, isn't it?"
"In a way ... yes. Do you really mind?" She was silent.
"Laurie, if I wasn't so desperate to prevent the old man from being thrown to the wolves ... he deserves a better fate than that."
"So do I," she said tartly.
"And you'll have it"
"How?"
"Like this," he announced, and before she could guess what was happening, he'd swept her up in his arms and was kissing her.
Her heart pounded and she went limp in his arms. Her whole body echoed the thrill of his kiss and it was the first time a real man had ever kissed her. She was too startled, too thrilled, to take cognizance of any fear. She kissed back, pushing her young body against his, squirming to feel the depth of his excitement, opening her mouth to receive his tongue.
Things moved rapidly thereafter. She felt one of his hands closing on her breast; the other hand moved up under her miniskirt. It felt so good she couldn't have stopped him even had she wanted to, and then in the dream-like transition of time in reverse, she was once again that 12-year-old girl in a faraway movie house. A nondescript middle-aged man was bent over her, playing the melody of hot fingers, rubbing the soft silken skin of her thighs, making her tingle with excitement, and anything that felt this good must be all right. And she let him do it. Let him pull her panties down, touch her there, kiss her there; and then he was breathing "funny like," she remembered, leading her hand to his unzipped trousers, which was the exact same thing the professor was doing to her at this very instant.
"Let's go in the storeroom," he said.
Laurie was hot Too hot to say no. Much too hot. And then she was nodding to him, being led by the hand, taken to the warm darkness of the storeroom; the teacher and his compliant and pretty little girl.