I was teaching math at a four-year state college in California. It wasn’t all true that high school graduates didn’t have the math skills required to enter college. Some didn’t, but a lot of them did. Unbeknownst to many, colleges have quietly raised their entrance standards over the years. It may be accurate that many high schools have not kept up with the higher entrance standards, especially for math and English, but many college freshmen are just as qualified in math and English now as they were 15 or 20 years ago.
Those are the facts, but then there is the perception. Our department has its share of remedial math courses and they are usually full each semester. Full tuition is required, but no credit toward graduation is given. And then the politicians deplore the increasing cost of a college education and rail against the debt incurred by many during college. But that’s a story for another time.
This particular fall semester I was teaching my normal load of four classes, two beginning algebra, one calculus, and one class in advanced number theory. I am the kind of instructor – no, teacher – who takes a real interest in the success of my students. I know each by their first name and even though a person in authority must be careful these days in how close one gets to their students lest they be accused of improper behavior, I take the time to get to know as much about the personal lives of my students as they want and allow. Over the years this sincere approach to each student’s success had stood me well as I have one of the highest, continuous student evaluations of anyone in the department. Moreover, I have been able to rescue more than one student from certain failure through careful attention to their personal situation, by being willing to listen, by encouragement, and helping them with their course work at certain critical times.
This semester I had my usual mix of students and abilities. And over the past few years, we have been seeing more military veterans returning to college. These men and women have their own set of issues to deal with in addition to the normal college student pressures. Often their issues surrounding their return to civilian life and their families are more challenging and more difficult to overcome.
It seemed to be this way with Randy. Randy was in his late twenties and had spent more than eight years in the army, much of it in a combat situation. Although lack of maturity and self-discipline were not among his problems, along about the fourth week of the semester his calculus grade began to decline. After three or four poor assignment results I asked him to meet me in my office later that day. He agreed to come about 4:30.
I was in my office when he showed up exactly at 4:30. I didn’t expect anything less. I moved out from behind my desk and we sat down in my office. I asked him how he was doing and about his background and his experience in the military. He was open about everything and spoke in an easy, confident manner. Through my conversation with him, I could tell he was intelligent, had high goals, and seemed well on his way to accomplish those goals. Yet, I could not determine any reason why his grades should be suffering. As I probed for the answers, he seemed reluctant to address the root cause. Under more gentle, understanding questioning, he finally revealed what was affecting his grades.
“I think it’s my wife,” he confessed.
“I’m not sure I understand,” I replied.
“Well, it’s like this, professor. My last deployment took me away for more than three years. During that time my wife and I were in constant communication, good communications that kept both our spirits up,” he explained.
“That sounds like a positive experience to me.”
“Yes, sir, it was,” he responded. I didn’t like the “sir,” but let it pass.
He went on. “You see, both my wife and I had plenty of experience in, ah…, shall I say, sexual matters, before we married. And since then we have been faithful to each other. Neither of us has done anything outside our marriage.”
“O.K.” I said. “That is very admirable on both your parts.”
“Yeah, I suppose so, but that’s the problem. During the time we were apart, the need seemed to build up and now she wants to make up for lost time. I can hardly get any time to study when I’m home. I walk in the door and she’s there waiting for me and she wants me to make love to her all the time.”
“Hmmmm…” I responded.
In my own mind, I thought ‘Some guys have all the luck.’
I replied though, “I think I see. It does take some time to focus on academic subjects and you’re finding it hard to find long enough extended periods of time to focus and do your work.”
“That’s it!” he exclaimed. “That’s exactly the problem. It’s not as if I don’t surely enjoy her love and affection – I do – it’s just that it probably takes me more time than most to clear my mind and settle down to the job at hand, you know, studying. You know, you don’t just leave combat and forget about everything just like that. Sometimes bahis firmaları it’s more difficult than other times.”
“I can see where that would be true, Randy,” I said. “I see you have a real problem, but I’m sure that the problem is solvable. I would like to help you. I think you’re an excellent student and I want to help you succeed if I can. Would you mind if I thought about this and then talk to you next week? I’ll bet we can figure this out.”
“Would you, professor? Gosh, that would be great!” he exclaimed. “I really want to do well, too. It would be so great if you could help me with this.”
I promised I would work on this and we set another appointment for early the next week. I bid him goodbye and when he left, he seemed to have had a load lifted off his shoulders. He continued to thank me profusely; I had to practically shove him out of my office.
So, my congeniality had put me on the spot again. Somehow I had to solve his problem or at least guide him on the path to getting it solved. I had no idea how I was going to do this. But I had solved difficult problems before; I just had to think about it.
The rest of the week went by without incident. A couple of exams, some quizzes, department meetings; it was pretty routine. In the back of my mind there was always this nudge to solve Randy’s problem. I guess I wanted to solve it for him, not just guide him to the solution. I guess I was thinking that he had enough on his plate already, so if I could help him by taking one problem away without giving him another one, that’s what I would do. Over the weekend the only possible solution that seemed to be viable began to take shape. As another work week began, the idea began to take on a life of its own, so that by the time I met with Randy again, I had figured it out.
Again, Randy was at my office at exactly the appointed time. I invited him in and we sat down in my office.
“So, Randy, how are you?” I began.
“Hey, I’m good. Have you solved my problem?” he replied, jumping right to the issue at hand.
“Whoa, there! I never said I would solve your problem, only that I would think about it.”
“Well, have you thought about it?” he asked impatiently.
“Yes, I have,” I replied.
“And, what did you come up with?” he pressed me. It was clear that he wanted to get right to the issue.
“O.K. Well, I have an idea,” I said. “But it may or may not help you or solve your problem.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will, professor,” he stated with more assurance than I had, even though he had not even heard my idea.
“O.K. Here’s my idea. Since your wife seems to want to occupy all your time when you are home, perhaps I could come over and help out by visiting with her while you take time to study. That way, she wouldn’t feel shut out or rejected and you could spend some quality time by yourself studying without interruption.”
“What do you think about that?” I added.
His eyes lit up and a big smile came across his face. “I think that’s perfect, professor! I’ve thought that by telling her to leave me alone so I could study, that she would think I was rejecting her company and companionship. I surely don’t want to do that. She loves me so much and she is just so beautiful. This way I could have a few hours of uninterrupted time to study and she wouldn’t be alone or feel left out. This is just great! Would you really do this for me?” he asked.
“Randy, I would be glad to do this if you think it would help,” I answered. “But, you know, I couldn’t do it all the time. Maybe once a week if you find that it helps. Maybe after a few times she will begin to understand the necessity for you to have uninterrupted study time and she won’t feel so bad when you do study by yourself.”
“Oh, yes, I think it would help,” he continued excitedly. “And once a week for a few hours would be fine to start. I’m already beginning to look forward to spending that time hitting the books. Do you think we could start this week? I really need to get back in gear with all my classes, not just yours.”
“Yes, I think it can be arranged,” I assured him. “My Thursday classes don’t begin until late morning. How about if I come over Wednesday night, say after dinner, about seven?”
“Oh, man, that would be perfect! I can’t wait to tell Susan – that’s my wife’s name – I can’t wait to tell her! She’ll be so excited, too! She so wants me to succeed. Gosh, professor, I can’t believe that you would do this for me! This is really going to turn things around.”
“Well, I’m glad to help,” I demurred. “Remember, it’s a trial for all of us. If it works, fine. If it doesn’t, then we’ll need to try something else.”
“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” he continued. “I’m sure it’s going to work! I’ll be able to really concentrate knowing that Susan will have someone to keep her company for a few hours. O.K. Seven o’clock on Wednesday. And just so you know, we’re really informal at our place, so there’s no need to dress up or anything like that. Here, let me write down our address.”
“Fine, kaçak iddaa Randy,” I said, now wanting him to leave as there was nothing more to discuss. “I’ll be there around seven, then.”
“O.K., professor,” he said. “And thanks, again!” He gave me the address written on a page of graph paper.
“You’re welcome,” I replied. “I’ll see you then.” And I ushered him out the door.
“She’s so beautiful, huh,” I thought to myself. “I wonder…”
Wednesday came at its usual pace – don’t let anyone tell you that teachers, good teachers, aren’t busy. I left the campus a little early and went home to relax and take a shower. I was looking forward to this evening with unusual anticipation, something that I hadn’t felt for a long time, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I wore a well-worn but clean and well-fitting pair of jeans, boxers, and a t-shirt with some generic message, and slipped on some comfortable loafers. At about 5:30 I left and stopped at Andrew’s Bistro and had a nice, light salad with a glass of wine for supper. I left there about 6:35 and arrived at Randy and Susan’s just a little past seven, right on time as far as I was concerned.
The neighborhood consisted of older, small to medium, one-story ranch houses. Their house was third from the end of the street and the street lights on each corner furnished dim, but pleasant light. Most houses had an attached garage and you could tell that some had been converted to an extra bedroom or study which delegated any vehicles to be parked in the driveway or on the street. I parked on the street. As I walked to the front door, I saw there was a lot of vegetation around their house and it looked well kept up. The outside light was on and I rang the doorbell.
I less than five seconds the door was opened and Randy invited me inside. My first impressions were favorable. To the immediate right at the entry was a door which, I assumed, led to the garage. The entry way itself fed a hall which led to the back of the house with the kitchen on one side, a half bath on the other, and the living area off to the left. A hall off the right probably led to bedrooms and more bathrooms.
As he led us back to the living area, Randy exulted on how fortunate he was to have me here. “I want you to meet Susan,” he said. “She’s in the living room.”
We entered the living room which was not well appointed, but neat; well lighted with some soft rock and roll music playing; and with an oversized, leather sofa in between end tables at one side of the room facing a large, flat-screen TV. And standing in the middle of the room was the most strikingly beautiful woman I had ever seen. Perhaps that was an exaggeration, but not by much.
This woman was about five foot five, a good six to seven inches shorter than me, with black hair extending below her shoulders. Her face was right out of the fashion magazine, with soft, but definite features; a full, round mouth with a hint of red lipstick; and eyes that were immediately mesmerizing. She had on a light blue, short sleeved, pullover sweater with a scoop neck that revealed some significant cleavage. Her breasts were large and full, C-cup at least, and stood out as the most significant feature of her body. That was saying a lot, given the beauty of her face. She had on some short, cut-off jeans which accentuated long, beautifully, proportioned legs. She was barefoot.
“Susan, I’d like you to meet my professor,” Randy said enthusiastically as we walked into the room.
Susan held out her hand and I took it. It was soft, but firm.
“Hi, I’m glad to finally meet you… Uh…,” she paused.
“Kevin, my name’s Kevin, and I’m glad to meet you, too, Susan,” I said trying to keep it low key.
“Randy’s told me a lot about you -” she started.
“I hope some of it was good!” I interrupted.
“Oh, yes, it was all good. He says your classes are hard, but fair,” she went on.
“The program Randy’s in is demanding, but he’s doing good work so far,” I complimented.
We talked for about ten minutes about their house, the neighborhood, music that they liked, where they were from, and a little about some of the rough parts of their relationship when he was in the military. In due time Randy decided it was time to begin studying.
“Professor, I hope you enjoy visiting with Susan. This is such a great favor you’re doing for us! I still can hardly believe it!” he gushed.
I replied, “Well, believe it! Susan and will get along fine, you don’t need to worry about a thing.” I glanced at Susan and she had a comfortable air of assurance.
I continued, “I think we’ll talk a while, get to know each other. Maybe watch some TV. I’ll ask if I can help do the dishes…”
I noticed a smile come across Susan’s face.
“I noticed they weren’t done yet. We might have some coffee later at the kitchen table. I can tell Susan all about the college, probably more than she wants to hear. It won’t be hard to fill the time.”
“Where are you going to study, Randy?” I asked.
Susan kaçak bahis answered for him, “Oh, he’ll be in the garage, the owners converted it to a study. It’s at the other end of the house right off the entry way.”
“Yeah, I think I saw the door when I came in,” I commented. “So, Randy,” I went on. “How long are you going to study? And what’s going to keep you in there if you hear some loud football game on the TV? Is there even football on tonight?”
“I’m going to give myself at least two good hours,” he replied. “And as for staying in there no matter what, that door always locks from this side and I’m giving the key to Susan. That way I’ll be sure to get some good continuous study time. And as for the noise, you can’t hear anything from this end of the house when you’re in there.”
“I don’t think it’s necessary to lock the door -” I started to say.
“Nonsense! I insist! Susan and I have talked it over and that’s what we’re going to do,” he said emphatically. “We’ve agreed that it will be two hours minimum this first time. Which reminds me, I’d better get in there.”
“Professor, would -” he began.
“Randy, please call me Kevin, at least when we’re informal like this,” I said.
“O.K., Kevin,” he said. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Yes, I could use a glass of water with lots of ice cubes,” I replied.
“Good!” he said. “Susan can get you that as soon as I disappear into my study cave!” he joked.
“Here’s the key, honey,” he said as he gave Susan a plain, inside-door key. “Remember – two hours unless the house starts to burn down!”
Susan placed the key on an end table. We watched as Randy went down the hall and we heard the door close.
“Well, I guess that’s that,” Susan said. “I’ll get that glass of ice water now.”
“Thank you,” I replied. I followed her into the kitchen. She got a glass out of a cupboard, went to the refrigerator, and opened the freezer door.
“Brrrrrrr,” she said. “That’s cold.” She scooped up several ice cubes from the ice cube tray and dropped them into the glass.
She turned away from the freezer and I stopped her with, “Could you put more ice cubes in there? I like beverages really cold and, besides, the ice will melt to water anyway.”
“O.K. ” she said and turned back to the freezer to get more ice. She filled the glass with water and handed it to me.
“So, what do you think of me coming over and being with you while Randy studies?” I inquired.
“I guess it’s O.K. If it will help him, I’ll do almost anything,” she answered. By now that was just the answer I wanted to hear.
“Shall we go sit on the sofa?” she invited.
“Sure,” I replied. “Lead the way.” At this point I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew I was going to do it. After all, you don’t get chances like this very often…
She sat down on the sofa and I sat next to her.
I put my glass of iced water on the end table.
We didn’t say anything.
You could feel the tension slowly build.
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Twenty-eight,” she said.
I paused for just a moment and then said, “Old enough.”
Pretty soon she asked, “How old are you?”
I was pushing forty-five, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.
“Old enough,” I answered.
I slowly turned my head to look at her. Then she turned and looked at me. Then in one quick, but smooth movement, I turned and swung my right leg over her legs and straddled her facing her. I settled down on her lap with my knees bent and my legs on each side of her butt. She looked at me and without breaking eye contact, took an elastic hair band off her wrist and proceeded to put her lovely hair into a tight ponytail. She paused a moment and then with a definitive movement that indicated a decision had been made, she raised her arms straight up over her head.
I reached down, grabbed the bottom of her sweater and pulled it straight up and off her. I dropped it on the floor. It was a magnificent sight to see those tits captured in that dark blue half-bra. She put her hands down and leaned forward slightly. I reached behind her, unclasped her bra, and pulled it off her and over her arms. I dropped it on the floor.
She leaned back against the back of the sofa. Those stunning tits stood at attention! I couldn’t move. They were perfect and perfectly natural. The areolas were large and round. Her nipples were huge, perfectly positioned and puffy soft. And I could tell they were hardening. She was looking at me and I was staring at her tits.
Finally, I looked up at her. I leaned forward and kissed her full on the lips. I pushed her back against the sofa and ground my mouth into hers and my chest into her tits. Our tongues were fighting and caressing, our breathing was getting faster, her hands were around my neck, my hands were on her tits. We broke the kiss, both of us gasping for air.
I rose up on my knees so I wasn’t resting on her lap. This brought me closer to her. Still looking right at me, she reached out, unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned my fly. Then she pulled my pants and boxers down past my butt as far as they would go. My almost hard, eight-inch cock swung free right in front of her face. She looked down at it and a smile crossed her face.