Click, clack, click, clack, click.
Jane Peterson's high heels make so much noise as she walks into the conference room where I had just given the last lecture of the business class I was teaching over the summer. It's as if Jane has to announce her presence and rub in my face the fact that she is here to chastise me.
She is the head of the Board of Regents and she had already told me she was coming to talk to me, via a snappy email she'd sent earlier today, but now she had to emphasize that fact by click-clacking her way in. I wish I could fuck some sense into her. I bet after she had my cock up her ass, she'd take out the stick that was up there.
"Mr. Masters," she says, gesturing towards a pull-down seat in the front row of the auditorium- style classroom. "Have a seat."
"I'd rather remain standing," I inform her, and I do.
There's no way I'm going to sit like a student in my own classroom, in one of those ridiculous chairs. Nor am I going to sit and have some long discussion about my "behavior." Whatever Jane came to say, she can open that prissy-looking mouth of hers and say it.
This knocks her off her high-heeled high horse. She was about to sit down herself, in the chair a few chairs down from the one to which she'd gestured, but she springs back up, clearing her throat.
She poses awkwardly in a half sitting, half standing position, looking as if she's unsure whether she wants to command to sit down, or let it go. She must decide on the latter option, because finally she straightens all the way up. Even in her very high heels, she's still shorter than I am, but most people are, since I'm 6'2".
I look down at her, waiting. She seems knocked off of her game.
"Mr. Masters, you know I respect your vast business experience and knowledge," she begins.
"Vast" is certainly one way to put it. I'm the head of the most profitable corporation in the world. It's a computer company I started out of my basement when I was in high school, and now we make the computer chips for the cars that drive themselves. This venture has been quite profitable, making me the richest man in the world as well.
"But…" I tell Jane, hastening her to get to the bad part of this conversation.
"But the Powers That Be tell me that after the debacle with Carla Henderson, you're nearly out of chances."
"Nearly?" I ask, my interest piqued.
I knew I would get in trouble if word about the Carla incident got out, but the way that Jane only says Carla's name makes me realize that she might not know the full extent of it. The way that she says I'm "nearly" out of chances further confirms my hunch. If she knew what all had really happened, Jane wouldn't confine the incident to Carla alone. And I wouldn't have any chances left.
Carla was a student of my business class who had invited me to a party at an apartment she rented off campus. Everyone was doing ecstasy and I was invited to a "cuddle circle" on a big furry rug in the middle of the living room. Of course I had to accept the invitation— it would be rude to turn down the invitation of Carla and her three female friends.
I was the only guy in this "cuddle circle," which soon turned into a full on menage. The girls wanted hugs. Then they wanted backrubs. Then they wanted me to take off their clothes so they could fully appreciate my full body massages.
I have to admit, it was an amazing night. Whatever punishment Jane Peterson is about to dole out, it was worth it. I'm an experienced man. Women have the tendency to throw themselves at me. But it's not every day that even a guy like me is surrounded by four beautiful naked women who are rubbing their tits in my face and their naked pussies all over my legs as they compete to give me lap dances.
I had to give the ladies what they wanted. What they were begging me for as they lined up in front of me in doggy style positions and stretched open their wet, dripping pussies for me so that I could decide which one I wanted to fuck first. They'd each taken their turns screaming my name as I shoved my big cock into their pussies, and if they were lucky I might play with one of their nipples while I was fucking another's pussy or mouth.
It was glorious. It was magical. And word had clearly gotten out about it.
"We heard you were with another student and we had already told you not to be," Jane says now, snapping her fingers to get my attention. I guess she had been talking while I was remembering the "cuddle session."
Student.
So, one of them had squealed to the administration, after enjoying the night of pleasure. But only one of them. I suppose the odds were in favor of that, and at least only one out of four had had morning after regrets strong enough to go tattle on me.
"Harvard is very happy that a man of your qualifications is teaching a business class here," Jane says, hurrying to kiss my ass like everyone always does. "But for PR reasons, we are going to have to take a break from this teaching arrangement."
"A break?" I ask, seriously confused.
Sure, I'd had a bit too much fun with Carla and her friends. But who hadn't taken some ecstasy and had a fivesome at some point in their life? It was nothing worth suspending me over.
"This is a suspension, isn't it?" I demand.
"I wouldn't say that word," Carla answers.
"I know you wouldn't because you didn't," I tell her, getting exacerbated now. "You used the word 'break.' What exactly does a 'break' entail? How is it different than a suspension?"
For once my libido had gotten the best of me and had gotten me into trouble instead of only pleasure. I guess it’s time to face the consequences.