Date: Sat, 6 Sep 2008 11:18:47 -0700 (PDT)
From: Mark Arbour <markarbour2000@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chronicles of an Academic Predator - Chapter 20

CHRONICLES OF AN ACADEMIC PREDATOR

	Before you read this story, there are a few things you should consider:

1. It contains graphic descriptions of sex between men.  In some cases,
these depictions may get kinky, and include borderline S&M.

2. It is set in the early 1960s, an era before the Civil Rights Act of 1964
when segregation and discrimination were the norm.  African Americans were
referred to as Negroes or Coloreds, although the "N" word was offensive
then as it is now.  I have retained the language of the era because it
reminds me how far we have come on race relations.

3. Be aware that the effects of inflation have been profound.  A good rule
of thumb is to consider that $1 in 1962 is probably similar to $10 in 2008.
So just add a zero at the end of any number.

4. Some authors are good enough to create a mood through their words.  I
need help, so I'll be posted recommended musical selections throughout the
story.



CHAPTER 20

Musical Recommendation:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UxX4aVr2PT4
"Mama Didn't Lie" by Jan Bradley


August 28, 1962

	I sat at my desk reading the latest copy of Time, waiting for the
departmental meeting.  I had 15 minutes until it started, and I didn't want
to be early.  I didn't want to sit there with all the other professors,
pretending to be sad that Bob Jensen was dead.  The story that grabbed my
attention was a feature on the latest attempt to assassinate Charles De
Gaulle.  Seems someone blasted his Citroen with machine gun fire, but
fortunately he and Mme. De Gaulle escaped without injury.  More fallout
still from the Algerian mess.

	I remember thinking how Jensen had been a massive weight on this
department, holding us back, distracting us.  I wonder if Algeria and
France were the same way.  I wonder if, now that France had resigned itself
to Algerian independence and finally let go, it would be able to focus on
itself and its own needs.  And hopefully the same would be true of Algeria.
Some relationships just weren't made to last.

	I steeled myself for the meeting and headed to the conference room.
I walked in right before it started.  Good.  Didn't want to piss Peterson
off.  He started the meeting.

	"I'm assuming that you've all heard the terrible news.  Dr. Jensen
shot himself yesterday.  The police found his body slumped over in his car
in the Bong Recreation Area.  That's in Wisconsin, for those of you new to
the area."  He looked at me as he said the last line.  The faces around the
table were somber, but there were no tears.  This was not an emotional
bunch of men, and even if they were, Jensen had only made their lives more
difficult.  He was universally reviled, and it was rather humorous to see
these men pretend to be saddened by this event, knowing that they should
be, but pulling the act off badly nonetheless.

	"The police are investigating.  They haven't indicated if they
found a note, or anything else to indicate why he took this action.  I've
assured them of our full cooperation."  We all nodded.

	"This does leave a gap in our faculty.  I'm meeting with the Dean
and the Provost to get approval for a replacement.  In the meantime, we'll
have to work together to shore up any deficiencies."  And with that,
Peterson delineated Jensen's departmental obligations.  There were a few
committee seats to be reassigned, but they were the plum choices so they
fell to the senior members.  I was already teaching his history lecture
class, so there wasn't anything to do there.  He had one additional class
on the Civil War, an area that Adams was interested in, so he ended up
getting stuck with that.

	Once the practical matters had been resolved, a silence fell over
the meeting.  If Jensen would have been loved, liked, or perhaps just not
despised, people would have been talking about him and his contributions.
No one could even guilt themselves into uttering accolades for him, though,
and after a minute Peterson realized that they weren't going to.  Not that
he was jumping in to start things either.  "Well gentlemen, let's get back
to work.  Dr. Jensen's funeral will be on Thursday, and I think it would be
appropriate for us to attend."

	Crap.  The last thing I wanted to do was go to this bastard's
funeral.  I'd have to look at his wife and kids, who might even be sad that
he was gone.  And then I'd feel guilty.  I caused this.  I'm responsible
for his suicide.  It's just as if I murdered him myself.  I couldn't look
his family in the eye.  I didn't have that kind of courage.  I made a tough
decision and followed Dr. Peterson to his office.

	"Is there something I can help you with Dr. Crampton?" he asked,
annoyed that I was chasing after him.

	"Dr. Peterson, I had planned to leave tomorrow morning to visit my
parents for the weekend.  Before school starts.  Do you think I should
change my plans so I can attend the funeral?"  Please say no; please say
no, I chanted to myself.

	"Well, you hardly knew Dr. Jensen, and I wouldn't say that you two
were the best of friends, so I see no reason why you need to stay for his
funeral.  You may want to send some flowers though."  And with that he
turned and walked into his office.

	Flowers were cheap enough.  In the end I just pitched some money
into the pool with the secretaries, who would diligently put my name on the
card.  Only now I had traded one hell for another.  Now I'd have to head
back to Claremont.  I wondered if I could get away with not going to either
the funeral or Ohio, but I figured that would look problematic if the
police did start asking questions.

August 29, 1962

	Here was the familiar road, the familiar signs, the familiar
houses, and the same familiar smell, all part of the overall Claremont
experience.  I'd just turned on to Skyline and was heading up the hill.
There was the spot I'd lost the Pontiac, the ruts in the side of the road
were still visible, although they'd put up a guard rail now.  That made me
chuckle.  And there was the spot that I'd pulled over and made out with
Stefan, where he'd given me the pinky ring I'd hung onto for only a few
days.

	The thought of Stefan added a whole new irritant to the equation.
On the one hand, I was excited to see my father, Abe, Vella, Sammy, and
Jeff.  On the other hand, I'd have to see my mother, and deal with that
issue, and Tonto, who probably still hated me.  And worst of all, I'd have
to see Stefan.  It was weird how my feelings for him had just died.  I
wasn't worried that I'd get all emotional and want to fuck him.  Well, any
more than normal, I mean he is still sexy as hell.  I didn't want to be
around him because he reminded me of my own weaknesses.  Because of him I
had let my guard down and exposed my horrible secret to a family member.
Because of him, someone besides one of the guys I'd blown, or been blown
by, knew I was a fag.  And what's worse, it was my fault, not his.  He was
just the symbol.

	All of these unpleasant thoughts had thoroughly darkened my mood,
so I had to pull myself together as I drove up the private drive, past Abe
and Vella's house, and up to the garage.  I hadn't told anyone I was
coming, thinking I'd make it a surprise.

	I strolled into the kitchen and the first person I saw was Vella.
She screamed and ran over to hug me.  A hug from Vella is the best cure for
a bad mood.

	"I didn't know you was coming home!  Nobody tells me nuthin',"
Vella grumbled.

	"No one knows I'm coming back, so actually you're the first," I
said with a smile.

	I heard the silky smooth voice of my mother as she approached the
kitchen.  "Vella, did you scream?  Is everything alright?"  Then she walked
into the kitchen, looking elegant in a dark blue suit, perfectly tailored
to fit her.  "JP!" she exclaimed, and hurried forward to give me her "warm"
welcome.  She was so soft, so cool, and so elegant; it was hard to stay mad
at her.

	"What a pleasant surprise!  Did you just get in?"  She turned to
Vella.  "Would you please see if you can find Jack?"  Vella nodded and
strode off to track down my father.

	"I had a few days before school started so I thought I'd come home
and visit.  This will be a busy semester, and I don't know if I'll be able
to make it back again before Thanksgiving."

	"Well it is fabulous to see you.  We were just getting ready to go
out.  The Hendrickson's are hosting a charity event to refurbish the old
post office, but we can cancel."  She headed towards the phone.

	"Mother, please don't change your plans.  I'll be here until
Sunday.  Besides, I'm tired from the drive.  I'd like to make it an early
night anyway."  She stopped and looked at me dubiously, but it's hard for a
mother not to take into consideration the sleeping needs of her son.

	My father came bustling in, dressed as nicely as my mother.  He
practically lunged toward me and gave me a big hug, a bear hug, something
so completely out of character it shocked me.  "It's good to see you son!
What a great surprise!"  I felt my eyes get moist at seeing how happy he
was to see me, but I quickly regained control of myself.  Ever since that
accident he and I seemed to be closer, more connected.  I'm not sure why,
but I liked it.

	They bustled off to their event, leaving me and Vella to gossip.
"Sammy gone and got hisself a girl," she said with disdain.

	"What, she's not a nice girl?"  I asked.

	"Nice girls don't wear they skirts high like that, and nice girls
don't go stickin' out they bosoms like that.  She may be a nice girl, but
she sho' don't look like one."  I laughed.

	"The only girl he'd find that you think was dressed appropriately
is a nun."  She laughed with me.  "What about Jeff?"

	"He doin' fine.  Don't see him with any one girl.  He spend most of
his time eatin'.  Between the two of them they about to devour the whole
city.  I showed yo' mama the food bill and I thought she was goin' a pass
out."  Growing boys eat a lot, and those two were both big and energetic.

	We sat and chatted for about an hour, until I was truly exhausted.
I headed to my room and crashed out on the bed.  The next thing I knew
there was a familiar hand around my chest, a familiar form against my back,
and a familiar, if not entirely pleasant smell in my room.  I woke up to
find Jeff snuggled up against me.  My teddy bear was back.  I turned around
and gave him a big hug and a big smile.  Seeing him, lying here with him,
was worth the trip.

	"Hope you don't mind me sneaking up on you like this," he said
cautiously.

	"No, it's the nicest welcome home I've gotten.  I missed you."  I
was worried that sounded totally queer, but he just rolled over on his
stomach and let me lay on his chest like I used to.  'Think you can sleep
in here with me?"  I asked.

	"If I'm careful I can."

	"Still not worried I'll rape you?"  I teased him.

	He snaughed.  "You're the one who may have to worry about that."

	"Promises, promises," I joked (sort of) as I got up and went to the
bathroom.

	Once in the bathroom I paused and thought about my next move.  Or,
more to the point, his next move.  Was our clandestine fuck that last night
in Chicago an aberration, or was it his way of making me his fuck buddy?
Should I expect anything tonight?  Could I just keep my dick from being
hard for the next ten minutes?  This last thought was more frustration as I
stared down at my raging hard on.

	I grabbed some Vaseline and lubed myself up, reminding myself of
the old Boy Scout maxim: "Be prepared."  Then I cleaned up, brushed my
teeth, peed, all the shit you do when getting ready for bed.  I opened the
door and the room was dark.  Should I wear my boxers or not?  I stood
there, wondering.  On the one hand, I'd worn them most of the time we'd
slept together.  On the other hand, I hadn't worn them that last night, and
he didn't seem to mind.  I slipped them off and tip-toed over to the bed.

	I climbed in and felt him move in behind me, felt his warm, naked
skin against mine, felt his softly padded rock hard body pressed against
me.  My dick was raging hard again.  I snuggled back into him like I
usually did, which had the effect of moving my ass against his lower
abdomen.  I felt something kind of crinkly, and I realized that I had
encountered his pubic hair.  He was naked too.

	I reached my hand around and rubbed it up his leg, pulling him
closer to me.  When I got up to his hips, my guess that he was naked was
confirmed.  He followed my lead and moved up behind me.  I felt his rock
hard cock slip between my legs, brushing against my perineum and pushing up
against the back of my balls.  He froze up.

	"Um, is this OK?"  He pulled back.  "I'm sorry; I don't know what I
was thinking.  Guess I just got carried away."

	I reached back and grabbed his ass, pulling it back in.  "It was
great.  Don't move away."  I felt him exhale and move back in, felt his
cock return to its place between my legs, his strong arms wrapped around
me, his mouth against my neck, nuzzling me behind my ear.  He gently thrust
his hips in and out, sliding his cock against my balls and taint, driving
me crazy.  "I missed you so much," he cooed in my ear.

	"Me too," I said, although it came out in a moan.  I reached down
and grabbed the head of his cock and played with it a little bit.  He
stiffened again, but not like before, because of fear, but this time
because he liked it.  I guided the head toward my hole, lining it up and
pushing back into him.

	"You want to feel me inside you baby?" he cooed again.  God I loved
it when he talked to me like that.  "Yes," I said, moaning again.  He
thrust with his hips and I pushed back into him, and in a flash he was
buried inside me.  The feeling was almost intoxicating.

	"Oh baby, you feel so good.  I love being inside you.  That's
right, show me how much you love having my cock in your ass."  He was
thrusting into me, and I was thrusting back at him, in a rhythmic manner
that was totally synchronized.  He reached down and grabbed my cock and
started stroking.  I knew I wouldn't be able to last that long.

	"You feel too good baby.  You feel too good.  You're so hot, can't
wait.  Gotta cum.  Gotta cum!"  And with that he began to shoot inside me.
He jacked me quickly in time, and before he was finished I had started.  My
twitching ass must have milked him dry, because as soon as I was done he
collapsed on his back.

	My psyche is always the most vulnerable after I cum, and I was
already heading down that dark path of recrimination.  He had collapsed on
his back.  Had he done that to get away from me?  Now that we had fucked,
when we were both obviously awake, did he think I was a queer?  Was he
disgusted by me?  In that unique way that Jeff has of sensing my moods and
easing my mind, I felt his hand gently stroke my back, inviting me to
re-engage with him.  I rolled over and landed on his chest, hugging my big
teddy bear as tightly as I could.

	We lay there for a while, both saying nothing, just enjoying the
contact and the bond.  He finally broke the silence.  "So you think I'm
queer?"  I looked up at him and moved my hand over his cheek, feeling the
moistness from his tears.  My heart went out to him.

	"Well, fucking another guy is definitely a queer act, but I don't
know if that makes you queer."

	"Huh?  What's the difference?"  At least by confusing him I'd
stopped him from being so upset.

	"I think there are five types of guys.  There are guys who are
straight, that only like women and guys who are fags that only like men.
Then there are guys who genuinely like both, and can go either way.  This
is just my opinion, mind you, but it's what I think."  I felt him nod.

	"Then there are guys who are horny and will fuck anything, but it's
just a hole to stick their dick in.  What it's attached to really doesn't
matter.  And finally, there are guys who are straight that fall in love
with other guys, and they end up doing queer things even though they really
aren't."  I realized that I was just sprouting out shit, matching these
theorems to try and hit whatever he was feeling on the head.

	He was silent for a bit, and then he asked "What are you?"

	"You tell me and I'll tell you," I chided, but when I didn't get a
snaugh I figured that he wasn't in a joking mood.  "Sorry.  I'm queer.
I've known it for a long time.  Girls just don't do it for me.  I mean, I
like them, I like dancing with them, hanging out with them, but when it
comes to fucking them, well, I would rather have another guy."

	"Have you ever fucked a girl?"  he asked me.  Wow.  That was a
zinger, right through my shields, right into my most personal spaces.
"Once," I answered.  Why did I trust him so much?  Why did I open up to
this guy like no other, not even Andre?

	"Did you like it?"  Grrrr.

	"It was OK.  It felt good, girls are soft, and boobs are cool, but
I can't see myself doing it on a regular or extended basis."  In other
words, I couldn't handle marriage.

	"I don't know if I'm queer or not."  He said.

	"Have you ever fucked a girl?"  I asked.


	"Yeah, a couple of times.  It was fun.  I'd do it again."  He
snaughed.

	"When you jack off, what do you think about?"  I asked.  He really
paused at that.

	"You," he said.

	"Every time?"  I asked

	"Pretty much."  Wow.  That was unbelievable.  I hugged him tighter
still.  This guy really must think I'm hot.  I was getting horny again.

	"So what do you imagine when you think about me?"  I asked, with a
coquettish lilt to my voice.

	"I'll show you," he said, as he rolled me off of him, rolled over
on top of me, and for the very first time, he actually kissed me.  Not some
peremptory friendly thing, but a real, tongue twisting open mouth kiss.
And it was the best, the absolute best I'd ever had.  Better than Peter,
better than Scott, better even than Andre (although thinking about him
caused me a pang of guilt).

	His strong body was on top of me, undulating against me, rubbing
our cocks together, both still slick from our first encounter.  I wrapped
my legs around him to hold him to me tightly, and I ran my hands down his
strong back, feeling his muscles straining as he did most of the work.

	Now would be the time where, in the past, I would move this kind of
activity to the next level.  I'd either try to turn it into a fuck, or a
blow job.  This time I didn't want to.  This time, the contact, that bond,
the kiss was enough to send me over the edge.  What's more, our bodies were
moving so closely in tune together, so in sync, that we shot at almost the
same time.  It was physically powerful, but the emotional connection was
unbelievable.  It would be so easy to fall in love with this guy.

	He collapsed on top of me, his head on my chest, my hand gently
stroking his dirty blond hair, as he drifted off to sleep.  I looked down
at his handsome face, so peaceful, so strong, and followed him into
dreamland.

August 30, 1962

	Jeff was already gone when I woke up, but I didn't let it worry me.
I knew he had to be careful, and being gone all night was not the way to be
discreet.  Still, I missed his company.  I got up, got ready and meandered
into the kitchen to scrounge up some food.  There was a note from my
mother, telling me that they'd gone out but I should meet them at the club
for lunch.  Last time I went there I got a condo, I chuckled to myself.
Wonder what I'd get this time.

	When in town it was customary for me to go visit my relatives, and
Tonto was always first.  I decided to bite the bullet and maintain the
routine, plus I factored into the equation Stefan's desire to sleep in.
Maybe I'd be in and out of there before he was awake.

	I drove up to the monstrosity and strode into the kitchen.  Tonto
was there, as usual, and seemed genuinely happy to see me.

	"JP!  What a nice surprise!  How long have you been in town?"  I
told her that I'd gotten in last night, and I think it made her happy that
I still came to see her first despite our problems last time.

	"I'm glad you came to see me," she said.  "I was worried that that
whole brouhaha last time would come between us."  That was odd.  She made
it sound like it was no big deal.  It certainly was before.

	"I'm really sorry about that Tonto.  But you know I love you, even
if you're really pissed at me."  She chuckled.

	"Well JP, the past is the past.  Let's just move on."

	"Have you heard from Billy lately," I asked, deftly changing the
subject.

	"Not lately.  Last time we spoke he seemed distracted.  I was a
little worried about him, but I didn't want to pry."

	"Maybe you should take a quick trip out to see him," I offered
nervously.  I knew that he was in the throes of this thing with Janice and
the new baby, and, as independent as Billy was, he'd need his mother's help
with this one.

	"Why," she looked at me suspiciously, "Is there something I should
know?"

	"I'm not going to betray a confidence Tonto, not even to you.
Billy is just fine, but I think he might benefit from a visit from you."
She wasn't happy about that.

	"Is this about the latest baby, the one on the way?"  I'd walked
into a snake pit.  I said nothing.

	"Your silence tells me what I need to know."  She held up her hand.
"Calm down JP, I won't betray your confidence; you should know me better
than that.  But he is my son.  Now that I guessed, can you tell me, please,
what the hell is going on?"  Now what?  I was busted.  I was going to buy
back her love by selling one of my best friends down the river, betraying
his confidence.

	"Tonto, Billy talked to me about it.  If I tell you, I will break
his trust.  If he finds out, it could destroy, or at least damage our
friendship.  Is that what you're asking me to do?"  She wasn't moved by my
soliloquy on honor.

	"JP, he's my son, and if there's something going on I need to know.
You have my word that I won't reveal anything you tell me, OK?"  I was
doomed.

	"Billy's worried that it's not his baby.  He was at sea until
February.  Janice told him she was pregnant shortly after he got back and
they, uh, reunited.  The doctor suggested that she was much farther along."
She looked at me with anger and sadness in her eyes.

	"When we were in New York, I told him that he should give her the
benefit of the doubt, and that time would tell.  I mean, if she has the
baby in September or October and it's full term, well that could be a
problem."  Tonto just nodded.

	"Thanks for telling me," she finally said.  "I'll protect your
confidence.  I should get out there and see him anyway.  It's been too
long.  And I'll try not to call my daughter-in-law a slut, although that
may take some restraint."  I laughed at that.

	"Restraint isn't one of your strong suits Tonto."  She laughed with
me.  I saw some motion in the doorway and looked up to see Stefan walking
into the room.

	"Hello Stefan," I said, greeting him in French and giving him the
appropriate kiss on the cheeks in the continental fashion.  He was
incredibly uncomfortable, and the overall tension in the room had risen
considerably.  "How are your English lessons coming along?"

	He blushed severely and the tension more than doubled.  "His
English has gotten so good that we decided he could finish learning all on
his own," Tonto said.  I knew that was a lie, and Stefan's expression
showed it.  I let the issue drop.

	"Well, I have to meet my parents for lunch," I said as I stood to
leave.  "Let me know how things go with Billy, will you please?"  Tonto
nodded and hugged me.

	Stefan approached me and gave me a hug as well, but his eyes were
pleading and said so much more.  They said he was sorry that he blew it
with our relationship, and they said he missed me.  That was too bad for
him, because the die was cast, the cord was cut, and we were over.  Tonto
couldn't possibly have missed how brief and perfunctory our interaction
was; hopefully that would put her at peace as regards my intentions toward
her grandson.

	The rest of the day passed at a leisurely pace.  Lunch with my
parents, shopping with my mother, a nice dinner at our house, more leisure
time with my parents, and then, finally bedtime.

	Jeff came into my room about half an hour after I "retired."  I was
already in bed, wearing nothing, hard as a rock, anticipating his arrival.
He stripped off his clothes and climbed in beside me, draping his body over
mine and treating me to more of his oral expertise.  I pushed him over on
his back and decided to show him mine.

	I moved my mouth down to his neck, nibbling gently, then to his
nipples, sucking on each.  He had small nipples, small and sexy.  Then I
moved down his smooth chest, down his smooth abdomen, followed his small
treasure trail, and found his dick poking up, begging me for attention.  I
took him gently in my mouth, using all my talents, swirling my tongue
around his head, moving up and down his shaft, increasing my speed, until I
was rewarded by his orgasm.

	I looked up at him, and he was smiling ear to ear.  "That was
amazing.  Damn."  I smiled back and swallowed loudly, which made him laugh.
I moved back up to his chest and snuggled up to him.  We just lay there
silently, enjoying each other.  I'd never been with someone like this
before, someone that I could just be around and not have to talk.  With
anyone else, it would become uncomfortable, but with Jeff, silence was just
fine.

	He stroked my back gently, then moved his hand lower and stroked my
ass cheeks.  I hadn't shot before so I was horny as hell.  He pushed me
over onto my back and mimicked the same moves I had made on him.  I enjoyed
it but didn't really think about it until he engulfed my cock with his own
mouth.  I guess I was so used to Andre, who would fuck me, and jack me off,
but never seemed interested in sucking me.  Jeff was obviously new at this,
because his teeth hit me a few times, but it didn't take him long to
develop a rhythm.

	I was enjoying his work, thinking that I so wanted him to fuck me
again, when I felt him gently insert his finger in my ass.  He moved it
around till he got the reaction he wanted, the reaction that said he hit my
spot.  He continued to stimulate my prostate with his finger, while he
sucked my dick with his increasing skill.  That was some amazing
stimulation, and it didn't take me long to shoot.

	"I'm gonna cum!" I whispered loudly.  I figured he'd be grossed out
by cum, but he clamped down on my cock and swallowed every last drop.  I
looked at him, stunned and satisfied, wondering at what a fun lover he was
turning out to be.

	September 2, 1962

	Tears flowed from my eyes yet again as I drove out of Claremont and
headed to the freeway that would take me back to Chicago.  How ironic that
Jensen's death would drive me back home and bring me a reconciliation with
my home town.  I no longer dreaded it, and in fact, with Jeff, there was an
additional motive to visit.

	Our last night together had been intense.  I lost track of how many
times we had sex, and how wonderful it was to lay there with him in between
those athletic trysts.  He calmed me, he stabilized me, and he satisfied
me.  He extracted two promises from me.  First, he made me promise to come
back to Claremont for the homecoming game on October 13th.  Next, he made
me promise to come back again for their last game of the season on November
10th, and to stay over for his birthday on the 12th.

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