Date: Sun, 24 Aug 2008 19:36:48 -0700 (PDT)
From: Mark Arbour <markarbour2000@yahoo.com>
Subject: Chronicles of an Academic Predator- Chapter 5

CHRONICLES OF AN ACADEMIC PREDATOR

Published First at :  http://groups.yahoo.com/group/arbourtales/

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 5

April 21, 1962


	Today is a day that even I will have a hard time fucking up.  The
weather is absolutely beautiful, 75 degrees with sunny skies.  It was so
nice that I decided to put the top down, my hair trying to move in the wind
as the Pontiac barreled north.  I regretted that decision a few miles back,
when I got close to Newark and the nasty smell that is pervasive in North
Jersey, but now that I was headed into New York City, it was pure heaven.

	Even after I emerged from the Holland Tunnel and got stuck in
traffic, it didn't matter.  I just leaned back and looked up at the
skyscrapers towering over me.  My father had told me, last time I talked
with him, that he and Jim planned to expand into building these monsters.
Better them than me.

	I'd had an uneventful month since my return from Claremont.  Andre
had scored with Vivian, and I tried to be happy for him and not get too
jealous, but that hadn't stopped him since we'd gotten back.  It seems like
every night of the week he was dragging me out to dance and drink.  That
was just as well, since I seem to have sworn off sex myself.  I stopped
going to my favorite bathroom, although sometimes resisting the temptation
took some Herculean self-control.  I'm not sure if it's because I was
afraid of being arrested like Peter, or that the cop might, through some
weird fluke, recognize me.  I'd been daring and risky enough.  It was time
to get out of Princeton with my record intact.  Not surprisingly, I hadn't
heard from Peter.  Maybe that was part of the reason that I dodged that
place, the memories of him.  How was it that someone that I barely knew
could have such a lingering effect on me?

Musical Recommendation:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PuQt3fgNqik
"Every Day of the Week" by The Students

	So when Billy Schluter sent me a letter suggesting that we meet up
in New York and go out on the town for a night, it seemed like the perfect
break in my routine.  Billy's stationed up in Groton, so it's a short ride
for him.  I got the feeling that he needed a break too.  Having a wife and
two kids and living the navy life must get old from time to time.

	I pulled up to the Waldorf, finding myself swarmed by valets and
bellmen.  They were disappointed to find that all I had was a shoulder bag,
but I flipped them two bits to park my car.  Within 15 minutes I had been
whisked up to my room, small but nice, with two double beds.  I kicked back
on the bed, closed my eyes, and reveled in the solitude.

	From what seemed like miles away I heard a banging noise, only
slowly did I realize that I was asleep, and it took me even more time to
rouse myself enough to get up and answer the door.  I opened the door and
it flew open, a strawberry blond hurricane hugged me and threw me on the
bed, landing on top of me, knocking what air was in my lungs right out of
my body.

	"JP!!!  Great to see you!"  Billy was always full of life.

	"Hey Billy, great to see you too.  Now will you get the fuck off of
me so I can breathe?"  I was waking up, and my mood was improving fast.

	"You used to like it when I jumped your bones," he said in a
seductive tone.

	"Yeah, but that was only when I was really drunk."  We both laughed
at that.  He dropped off his stuff and we hit the town.

	It was one of those days where we didn't really have any plans so
we just wandered around the city, stopping if something interested us, but
mostly walking and talking, something we really hadn't been able to do for
quite a while.

	He was expecting his promotion to Lieutenant this fall, and
hopefully a posting to one of the navy's new nuclear submarines.  I found
it odd that he picked the silent service, but hearing Billy talk about
attack submarines, about being the hunter and not the prey, and I realized
he'd found his niche.

	He has two children with one more on the way.  The two kids are
about the same ages as Jim's kids, but this third child was not expected.
I got the feeling that he blamed his wife, even though he knew how unfair
that was.

	We went back to the hotel, showered, changed, and went out for a
nice dinner.  Neither one of us was in the mood for clubs, so we just went
to the bar at the hotel and drank and drank and drank and drank.  We
laughed so much we got some pretty dirty looks from the other people there,
but we really didn't give a fuck.

	Somewhat abruptly Billy's mood changed, and he got somber.  "JP, I
need to tell you something."

	"Sure Billy.  You can tell me anything."  Like he didn't already
know this.

	"No really, you can't tell anyone.  Between you and me. Promise."
He'd never been this earnest about a secret.

	"Billy, you know you can trust me.  What's bugging you?"

	"JP, I'm not sure if this kid is mine."  His eyes started to tear
up, and all I could do was stare at him.  Shocked...that would be an
understatement.

	"What makes you think that?"  My brain was fried, so I went back to
basics: demand data.

	"We went to see the doctor and he said she's four months pregnant.
I was at sea until the end of February."  He looked totally dejected.

	"Look Billy, you know Janice loves you.  Maybe the doctor is wrong.
Maybe he got the time wrong.  The truth will come out in a few months, so
to speak."  I couldn't stand to see him in so much pain.

	"Maybe you're right JP.  There were some rumors about her and one
of the Lt. Commanders on the base.  And now this.  Plus she's been super
nice to me; I mean more than normal, almost like she's feeling guilty."  He
had his head in his hands.

	"Billy, you're just wracking yourself apart.  The truth of the
matter is that you don't know for sure.  But you've been married for four
years now, and they've been good years right?"  He nodded.  "So don't you
think you should give her the benefit of the doubt?"

	He looked up at me.  I could almost see the wheels in his brain
working.  "I guess I should."  He smiled at me.  "Thanks for coming up here
JP.  I really needed to talk to someone...to talk to you about this.  I
knew you'd make me feel better."  I reached my arm around his shoulders and
squeezed him in a semi-hug.

	"I'm fucked up JP.  I think I need to pass out."  He was slurring
his words now.

	"Me too.  Let's go to bed."  With that I helped him up and we
staggered to the elevators, down the hall, and into the room.

	I headed to the bathroom, throwing my clothes off on the way until
all I had left on was my boxers.  I started pissing and thought I'd never
stop, I just kept going and going, which made me laugh.  I staggered out of
the bathroom, still giggling.

	"What are you laughing at?"  Billy was starting to giggle just
because I was.

	"I just peed forever."  He really cracked up then.

	"I gotta go too.  Help me up will you?"  I tried to pull him up off
the bed, but I was laughing too hard and he fell back.

	"Here, let's get your shoes off."  I pulled off his shoes, and his
socks for some reason.  Then I pulled him up so he was sitting and
unbuttoned his shirt, pulling that off, as well as his t-shirt.  "Thanks
for taking care of me JP."

	"No problem Billy."  I pushed him back down on the bed which made
him laugh again and started to unbuckle his belt.  The mood suddenly
changed, the atmosphere suddenly charged with sexual tension.

	I unbuttoned the top button of his pants, but did it slowly on
purpose.  Then I grabbed his zipper and pushed it down, making sure I put
pressure on it so that I rubbed against his dick.  Once it was down I
pulled open his pants, "accidentally" brushing the back of my hand over the
front of his underwear and his inflating cock.  He lifted his hips up so I
could pull them off, which left him spread-eagled on the bed in just his
boxers.

	"JP, remember how we used to fool around when we were kids?"  I lay
down next to him, my eyes level with his chest.  "Yeah", I said, as I
noticed that his nipples had gotten bigger, the size of quarters, and that
he had a good amount of hair on his chest.

	"That was a lot of fun," he said wistfully.  "I thought so too," I
responded.  I put my hand on his stomach and gently stroked his abdomen.

	"Know something JP?"  I looked up at him.  "No, what?"

	"No one's ever sucked my dick as good as you."  I looked down and
he was tenting out his boxers.  I moved my hand down and grabbed his cock,
not roughly, but purposefully.  He moaned.  "Maybe I need to remind you how
good," I said to him, sounding really slutty.  "Maybe you do," he replied
with a leer.

	I moved my mouth on to his nipple, just for a second, because I
knew that wasn't his hot spot.  Billy was one of those guys who didn't have
a special "spot", or it might be more accurate to say that his "spot" was
his dick.  I could suck his balls, and he's think that was nice, and I
could tweak his nipples, and he'd put up with it, but all he really wanted
was my mouth on his dick.

	I obliged eagerly.  We'd done this often when we were younger, but
it had been a long time, probably since right before he was married.  Time
had not marred my memory.  I knew every inch of his five inch shaft, knew
all the veins that stuck out on the side, knew to watch my teeth because of
his wide dimension.  He liked me to take my time, and to run my tongue
around the head of his penis, then every two or three strokes he liked me
to go all the way down on him so he could feel the back of my throat.  I
knew exactly what he liked and I did it.

	He lay on the bed moaning and thrusting his hips into my face.  I
kept my left hand wrapped gently around his balls, not because he liked it,
but because that way I could gage if he was close to cumming and back off.
It had been four years since I'd gotten to do this.  I was going to make it
last this time.

	I tortured him, getting him to the edge and backing off, even as he
tried to thrust back into my mouth.  Finally, I could make him wait no
longer, and I dived down on his cock.  He took his two hands and grabbed my
face, pulling me onto his dick and ramming it down my throat.  Normally
this would really piss me off, but for Billy it was no problem.  Besides,
his cock was kind of short so it didn't choke me or anything.  Then he
started shooting.  And shooting.  And shooting.  God, when was the last
time he came?  No way I could swallow it all, and cum came dribbling out of
my mouth onto his pubes.  Finally he finished and lay back, totally
satisfied.

	"JP, thanks.  That was amazing.  You are the best.  Fuck!  I don't
think I can breathe."

	"Glad to be of service," I said as I smiled down at him, oblivious
to my own hard cock poking through my boxers.

	"I want to watch you jack off."  He turned on his side and just
looked at me.  Billy was something of a voyeur, which was fine with me,
horny as I was.  I stripped completely down, lay on my back, and started
stroking my cock.  I reached down and scooped some of the cum from his
pubes and used it as lube, which made his eyes bulge.  He watched me as I
stroked, his eyes level with my cock.  I felt his fingers run up my thighs
and stroke my balls, the contact was so stimulating I had to slow down so I
didn't blow right then.

	He stroked below my balls, hitting my perineum, and I willingly
spread my legs to give him better access.  I learned that that was one of
my hot spots.  I lifted my legs up to give him access to my ass, hoping
he'd play with my hole.  I'd always wondered what that would be like.
Fortunately, he showed me, and I found my other hot spot.  As he stroked my
ass my moans became almost uncontrollable.  I felt his finger push at the
entry to my hole, and I pushed back into it.  Slowly, and with a little
pain, I felt his finger slide up my ass.  I could take no more.  My dick
erupted violently; not only did I shoot a lot, I shot far.  I hit myself in
the face twice.  Damn.

	We both laid there for a few minutes, then I got up, grabbed a
towel to clean us both up, and tucked him into his bed.

	The next morning we were two hurting puppies, popping aspirin and
ordering room service for breakfast.  We stayed in the room until checkout
time, dozing in and out of sleep and waking up long enough to bitch about
how miserable we were.

	Just as we were leaving the room, Billy turned around and pulled me
into a hug, a long, lingering hug.  As we pulled apart, he leaned down and
kissed me on the cheek.  "JP, you're the best.  Thanks for everything."  I
smiled at him, and then both of us went our own way.



May 24, 1962

Musical Recommendation: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_29Fshs8gOI
"Please Mr. Postman", by the Marvelettes

	Two months of uncertainty, two months of waiting, two months of
planning my day around the mail, making sure I would be there when it got
there.  Two months, four applications, no responses.  I stared out the
window, my eyes glued to the mailbox.

	With a nervousness I only displayed when I was alone, I grabbed the
paper.  Apparently Scott Carpenter was up in space, orbiting around the
earth in Aurora 7.  An exciting time to be sure.  I wonder if Scott
Carpenter can see my mailman from space?

	I hated job-hunting.  I hated the uncertainty.  I felt vulnerable
and out of control.  Normally I'd ease my tension by cruising for some
action, but I was still avoiding my bathroom.  We had to be out of our
apartment by June 1, so I only had one more week of self-control.  I would
make it, but I wouldn't like it.

	A car drove by, and interrupted my reverie.  Still no mailman.
Here it is the end of May and it's already hot in central New Jersey.  I
got up and turned on the fan, doing an internal mental calculation as to
whether the effort/energy/heat expended to get up and turn it on would be
offset by its feeble wind gusts.  Probably not.  Back to staring at the
mail box.

	I started daydreaming about Billy, and Peter, and Andre.  How
different they were to me.  Peter, the ultimate lover, the guy who
introduced me to fucking, the guy who premiered in my jack-off fantasies.
The guy who made me laugh, the sexy rogue that was now off in California,
hopefully conserving what money I'd given him.  Peter was a friend, but not
in the same way as Andre or Billy.  Andre, so unobtainable, so perfect, my
best friend in the whole world, the one person who's love I craved the
most.  He gave me everything he could, and I felt selfish for feeling that
it wasn't enough.  And then there was Billy, more like a brother, although
that would make messing around with him incest, which grossed me out.  But
messing around with Billy was like two friends doing each other a favor,
kind of like rubbing someone's shoulders.

	These internal ponderings had so distracted me that I didn't even
see the mailman walk up to the box.  It was only when he slammed the lid
shut that I broke from my daze and rushed out to see if today was the day.
I grabbed what few letters were there and found what I'd been waiting for.
Today was jackpot day.  There were two letters addressed to Dr. John Paul
Crampton.

	I took them into the living room and sat them on the table, staring
at them, afraid to open them, yet wanting to.  I picked up the first, from
UC Berkeley.

Dear Dr. Crampton,

	We are pleased to offer you a post-doctoral research position
beginning on September 1, 1962 and lasting until the end of Spring
Semester, 1963.....

I expected that one.  Getting another Post-Doc was sort of a fall-back
position.  I could either continue here, or head to Berkeley for a change
of pace, but neither would be a permanent home.  I'd still be a glorified
temp worker.

	The next one was from Brown University.  This one was a long shot,
but if I got it, I'd be able to stay on the east coast, which I had grown
to love, and I'd be close to Billy, even though I didn't see him very
often.

Dear Dr. Crampton,

	We are honored by your interest in joining our faculty, but while
your credentials are impressive, we regret that we are unable to offer you
a faculty position at this time......

Well, that was expected.  I was alone in the apartment so I allowed myself
to lounge on the couch and wallow in self pity.  I'd have to cheer up in a
few hours when Andre got home, but meanwhile, I grabbed a beer and tried to
convince myself that Brown had made a huge mistake, and that years from now
when I won a Nobel Prize or something there would be a hand-wringing
meeting where everyone would try to figure out how a gem like me escaped
them.  Hey, at least I can dream.


May 31, 1962

	Packing sucks.  Well, it sucks when you have nowhere to go.  That's
not entirely true either.  My destination is Claremont.  I tried to enthuse
myself about going home, how nice it would be to have my parents around,
and to have air conditioning.  I could spend the summer riding, swimming,
writing, and researching.  It would be great.

	Who was I kidding?  The thought made me miserable.  I'd never been
in limbo in my entire life, but now I am.  I threw some more stuff in a
box, probably useless things I should just throw away, but that would
require more thought than just packing it.  I stubbed my toe on my dresser
and let out a string of oaths.  Fuck that hurt.

	I'd gotten one more letter two days ago, a response from Ohio
State.  They told me that they were interested in talking to me further, so
they wanted me to come in for an additional interview.  That meant they
were stalling, and the only reason for that was that they'd said no but
someone was pulling some strings.  Political strings.  That would be my
father, I love my dad, he's a good guy, but I really wanted to do this on
my own.  It depressed me to think that I wasn't good enough to get a job on
my own.  Maybe all my successes were mere fiction?  Maybe I was just the
lucky scion of a wealthy family that had promoted me through the ranks,
just like they used to do with young noblemen in Europe.  Back in those
days, no need to suffer the indignities of being a lieutenant, simply buy
your own regiment and be a colonel.  I threw more useless shit in the box.
Maybe my parents could buy me my own university.

	I heard Andre come bursting into the apartment.  He, of course, was
in a great mood.  He was off for basic training or whatever variation of
that they use for officers.  2nd Lieutenant Andre Clerreault, joining the
military and honoring the terms of his ROTC contract.  He was confident
that he'd be sent to Europe, hopefully France, even though DeGaulle was
agitating about removing French forces from NATO.  I heard his footsteps
and then there he was, handsome as ever, leaning against my door frame with
an idiotic grin on his face.

	I wanted to say "what the fuck are you so happy about?", and that's
what he was waiting for.  That I didn't do it gave me my first satisfaction
of the day.  "Guess what I have behind my back?" he taunted.

	"Your big ass," I countered, thinking I was such a wit.

	"Very funny.  I have the mail."  I felt myself reacting and jumping
forward, trying to grab it from behind his back.  I couldn't even pretend
to be calm and unflustered.  He held one letter over his head.  "Looks like
this one came from Northwestern.  Wonder what it is?"

	By now I was frantic.  "Come on asshole.  Give it to me."

	"You sure you don't want me to read it to you?  Open it for you?"
He pushed me right to the edge, where I was about to punch him in the
stomach and grab it, when he feigned a bow and handed it to me.

	I stood there, looking at the envelope.  This was it.  My destiny
was inside.  All I had to do was open it.  My hands were shaking.  I was
paralyzed.