Chronicles Of An Academic Predator - 33. Chapter 33

February 15, 1963

I lay in bed with Jeff snuggled up behind me, luxuriating in the feel of his body enveloping mine. Since he got here it had been like a dream. We'd spent last night in bed, making love over and over and over again, reveling in the bonding and connection it created. Then this morning I'd been awakened by a hard pressure pushing at my ass, and he'd entered me as I woke up. This was bliss.

After we finished he held me tight, savoring the moment. “I want to spend my life with you baby,” he whispered huskily in my ear.

“Okay,” I said in the same tone that I would have answered if he'd asked me for something to drink. He snaughed. Then his stomach grumbled and I shook my head. “Let me guess, you're hungry again?”

“Yep,” he said. We took a shower, then threw on some clothes and headed to the kitchen.

Jason was surprised to see Jeff, but he hid it gamely. “Hey Jeff,” he said and gave him a quick hug. “I didn't know you were here!” He was starting breakfast and threw on some extra eggs and bacon.

“Better make more than that Jason,” I joked, and Jeff gave me a faux dirty look.

“Hey, thanks for the clothes,” Jason said.

“No problem. I went shopping for Jeff and got carried away and picked up some stuff for you and me too.”

“Good. I was worried you were hitting on me,” Jason joked.

“Better not,” said Jeff. He threw on some clothes and headed down to get some stuff out of his car.

I took that opportunity to talk to Jason alone. “Hey Jason, it's not my place to tell you who to bring or not bring back here, but I'd really appreciate it if you kept Ronnie away for the weekend.”

“No problem JP. He's getting kind of boring anyway. I need some new meat.” He joked. That made me uncomfortable, even though I smiled at him. Dealing with an asshole like Ronnie was one thing. Preying on other unsuspecting and undeserving students was another. But I put that away and decided that I would deal with that after Jeff was gone. This weekend was ours to enjoy.

We'd have to enjoy it indoors though. The weather was colder than ever, staying at sub-zero temperatures. The only good news was that there wasn't much snow. Staying inside was fine. After breakfast we grabbed some blankets and snuggled up on the couch together. Jason took the other one and we hung out and watched television, just being lazy. After awhile, I felt that thing poking me in the ass again so we got up and headed to the bedroom to fuck. Jeff blushed as we left but I didn't give a shit. Jason and I had shared enough that I wasn't embarrassed in front of him about sex.

Our whole weekend went like that. It seemed that no sooner had we satisfied each other than the desire returned, the yearning need to be linked together. And when, on Sunday, Jeff said goodbye again, I cried and got depressed, but not as bad as before. We were bonding ourselves to each other, and even though we weren't an exclusive couple, we were committed to each other. I felt secure with him, and with our relationship.

February 24, 1963

Saturdays in the winter were deadly dull, but Sundays were even worse. It was so cold that going out required some serious fortification, and while that was required during the week, it was hard to get motivated to leave on the weekends. The condo was impossible to keep warm, what with the winds up here, and I resolved that I was going to get either a bigger furnace or better insulated windows.

So when the doorbell rang that evening I was more than a little surprised. I worried that it would be Ronnie, but he hadn't been over much lately. Jason had gotten bored with him and was gunning for his friend Willie Jackson. I'd kept him on a leash so far, but if Willie stepped out of line, he was toast.

I opened the door and was even more surprised to find Fritz staring at me. Instead of his joking, goofy demeanor, though, his eyes looked sad and hollow. I looked down and noticed he had crutches, and then as I went lower still I saw that he was missing a leg. I forced myself to come to my senses and invited him in, hugging him warmly without knocking him over. Jason heard the commotion and came out to see him as well. I was proud of Jason that he didn't blanch at the sight of our friend without a leg. We sat in the living room and got a couple of beers.

“So what happened Fritz?” I asked. Ignoring his lack of a leg would have been ridiculous.

“I stepped on a land mine at the end of last year, not too long after Andre was killed. It blew off my leg and...” he stopped talking and a tear rolled down his face. We sat there and waited for him to finish. “..And it made me, it took away....I'm not a man anymore.” More tears dripped down his face and I cringed in pain.

Fritz stood up and dropped his pants. “Look what's left!” He was hysterical now. His balls were gone, blown off, and his penis had been truncated as well, the head was gone so it was no more than a tube to pee through. I stared at him in horror, and a glance at Jason confirmed that he had the same look. “And then they tossed me out of the army. Gave me some piddly pension to live on. I'll starve on what they pay me.”

I got up and walked over and hugged him. He tried to push me away but I wouldn't let him, and Jason came over and joined him. Here's this guy, this big, strong sergeant, reduced to a crying wreck of a eunuch, all because of this stupid “war”. I felt the anger surging within me. First Andre and now him. This had to stop.

He pulled up his pants and sat down. “You won't starve Fritz. No way. You have a home here with us. You'll always be welcome.”

“No way. I can't be a charity case.”

“Andre left me his death gratuity from the army, and he had some additional insurance too. I want you to have it. It's more than enough for you to live on.” There was $50,000 socked away. When I'd gotten the money I didn't know what to do with it, but I figured someday I'd find a worthwhile cause, one that Andre would approve of. I think I just found it.

“He left that money to you, not me.” God he was stubborn.

“Yeah, but I don't need it and you do. And I knew him better than anyone, and I know he'd want you to have it.”

He paused and studied me carefully. I knew he was stalling for time. “I'll think about it, OK?”

I smiled, thinking I'd won. “Okay.”

“Anyway, Andre is why I'm here.” Now he really had my attention. “When he was killed, I kept some of his personal items. I know they say all that stuff ends up going back to the families, but I don't believe it. So I squirreled them away to give to you. Then I was wounded and I couldn't get them to you until now. I'm sorry it took me so long.”

“Don't apologize Fritz. It's fine. What did you save?”

He reached into the pack he carried on his back. “Well, I brought his letter case. It has all his correspondence in it. I thought about burning it, and he said that I should throw it away if something happened to him, but I didn't think it was my place.” He handed me the case that Tonto had given Andre, the waterproof writing case.

“I also saved his watch.” He handed me the watch my parents had given him.

“Thanks.” I held it in my hands, feeling Andre's presence in the room again, and I had to fight the sadness. I took the watch and the case and carried them to my room, then returned to hang out with Fritz and Jason. We downed a few beers and then Jason made us a late night snack. By 11pm, Fritz was yawning.

“You can sleep with me, or I can rig up a bed for you out here,” I said. “Then tomorrow we'll get the study in shape for you and you can stay there.”

“That's great JP. No offense, but if you don't mind I'd rather sleep out here. I kind of like being by myself at night.”

“Sure thing Fritz.” I said, wondering why he hadn't argued with me about fixing up the study for him tomorrow.

We headed to bed, and I was exhausted. I was going to look at Andre's correspondence but for some reason I didn't. I guess I knew it would be an emotional experience and seeing Fritz without a leg and castrated was enough for one day. I tiptoed back out to the living room and made sure that Fritz was comfortably settled on the couch, and then I went to bed.

I was awakened later by a loud knocking on the door. At first I ignored it, wallowing in my sleep, but then I realized what it was so I hauled my lazy ass out of bed and curiously headed for the door. Jason must have gone through the same type of machinations, because he got to the door at the same time I did.

By the time I got there I was pissed. They were going to wake up Fritz.

I opened the door and found myself face to face with two Chicago police officers. I wasn't happy. “Can I help you officer? Surely there's a reason why you're banging on the door waking up the entire building.”

“There's been an accident in the building and we're investigating,” the senior officer said coldly.

I remembered my manners. “I'm sorry officer. I'm sometimes cranky when I first wake up. Please come in, although it's probably not much warmer in here than in the lobby.” I guided them into the dining room worried that we'd wake Fritz up, but he wasn't there.

“Jason, did Fritz end up sleeping in your room?” I asked. The cops just watched us.

“No. He's not in your room?”

“No. Check the study, will you?” Jason rushed off and checked the study, but came back shaking his head.

“I'm sorry officer,” I said, having almost forgotten they were there. “What can we do for you?”

“Were you looking for Otto Schmidt?” he asked. I got a bad feeling in my stomach.

“Yes. He showed up here last night and stayed over, slept on the couch right there. Do you know where he is?”

The officer looked somber. “We found his body on the beach. It looks like he jumped off the building, probably your balcony. He didn't survive the fall, as you might expect.” I just stared at him. No wonder Fritz didn't argue about staying here. No wonder he didn't argue too much when I tried to give him Andre's insurance money. No wonder he didn't want to sleep with me. He must have planned this all along. I just stood there looking at Jason, stunned and paralyzed.

“Do you mind if we have a look around?” the officer asked. I knew, as a rule, that you shouldn't let cops search your house without a warrant, but it seemed like the smart thing to do in this situation.

“Certainly officer. Feel free to look around.” I got up and headed into the living room and there on the coffee table was a sealed envelope with my name on it. The officer snatched it up, and I took it from him and opened it. He moved up beside me to read over my shoulder. I was going to tell him to fuck off, but he was warm and his presence felt good. Besides, he was cute.

Dear JP,

I can't go on living. I've lost my leg, my balls, and half my dick, which wasn't all that big to begin with. And being in Vietnam, seeing what's happening to those poor people, seeing Andre get blown up like that, I've also lost my soul. I can't go on. I just can't.

I appreciated your offer to let me stay here, and to give me money, and to help me make a life. You and Jason are about the only friends I have left, and you guys have been great. Please don't feel bad for me, and please don't feel guilty. You've done more for me than anyone.

Love,

Fritz

I felt the tears roll down my face as I read it, and the cop put his arm around me in a consoling way. I leaned into him, appreciating the gesture.

“He lost his dick and his balls?” he asked me. I just nodded. “No wonder the poor guy jumped.”

Jason came over and I showed him the note, while the cop went and found his partner. He came over and stood there respectfully, obviously wanting my attention but also not wanting to interrupt us either. I grudgingly looked up.

“Here's my card,” he said, and handed me his business card. “If we need any other information, we'll contact you. If you find anything else, please give me a call. This was obviously a suicide.”

I thanked him, and then went to my room to grab one of my own cards for him. It dawned on me then that when they had first gotten here they weren't sure that it was a suicide, and there was the potential for this to be a homicide. That was a little chilling.

“Here's my card officer,” I said, handing it to him. “Thanks for all your, uh, understanding.” Was there a small twinkle in his eye?

“No problem. I hate to do this to you, but we need to take that letter with us.” He saw my hesitation. “I'll tell you what, though. When the investigation closes on this case, I'll get it back to you, OK?”

I handed it to him. “OK. Thanks officer.” We shook hands and they left Jason and me to contemplate Fritz's actions.

February 25, 1963

Jason and I went through Fritz's backpack but found nothing of real interest. The guy had lived for the army, and didn't have much beyond that. We were both exhausted, but the show must go on, so I drove us both to campus.

My history class was full as usual, and my lecture today was supposed to be on the Mexican-American War. But I didn't want to talk about that. That's not what was on my mind. I decided that it was my class and I could do what I wanted. I saw Jason over in the corner. He usually sat in just in case I said something he'd need to know, but he always had a bunch of work to do as well. I made my decision. This would blow his mind.

“I decided that today we'd go off on a tangent and fast forward to the present, to the history that's being made right before our eyes. I just finished a paper on Vietnam. I see most of you nodding like you knew that. Liars.” That joke got a laugh.

I continued in a more somber manner. “Last December my best friend was killed over there, blown up by a grenade when he jumped on it to save his platoon. He was a great guy, and that was a tragic loss.” I really had their attention now. “Then last night, one of his men, a Sergeant who had visited before, and whom Jason and I had befriended, came over to see us.”

“Only he wasn't really himself. He had stepped on a land mine, and it had blown off his leg.” I saw all the students cringe. “And, as most guys in here will tell you, that wasn't the worst of it. The land mine also blew off his testicles, and half of his penis.” I saw the guys move around uncomfortably.

“So after we all went to bed, this young man got up, walked out onto my balcony, and jumped off.” They looked at my quizzically. “I live in a condo on the 20^th floor.” Now they were all visibly upset. “So that's still fresh in my mind, and I'd like to tell you a little bit about the situation in Vietnam.” With that, I lectured for the next hour and a half, summarizing my paper and the situation as I saw it. After class, a line of students stopped by to offer Jason and I their condolences.

I'd never done anything like that before. I'd never opened up to my students or classes like that. I'm not sure why I did. But the most amazing thing happened. I had let them in, just a little, and they responded by embracing me. Not physically, although some did, but emotionally. They genuinely liked me, and they showed it. All I had to do was let them in. Fascinating.

Jason was the most stunned of all. “Wow, I can't believe you did that,” he said as we walked back to my office. “That was unbelievable. The best class I've ever been in. And I've never seen you show so much emotion. Great job JP!” And he patted me on the back.

I did a repeat performance with my Decolonization class. I saw Tom Hartford's eyes actually tear up a bit, and that almost made me cry as well, but I was able to control myself. After class he came up and gave me a big hug. I thought I felt his hand brush briefly over my ass as he did, but I couldn't be sure. He was as cute as ever, although we hadn't talked privately since I ran into him at Marshall Fields.

I was in my office working on mindless bullshit when there was a knock at my door. My door was open, so when I looked up I could see who was there. It was one of my students from American History. “Hi Professor Crampton, I'm Ted Bailey. I hope I'm not interrupting you.”

“Not at all Ted,” I said warmly, and led him to the sitting area where he took the couch opposite my chair. He was interrupting me but I didn't care. This guy was handsome as hell. I'd noticed him in class before, and he'd probably felt my gaze on him several times.

“I just wanted to thank you for sharing your personal experiences in class today. It was the most intense class I've been in.” He had dark brown hair and green eyes, almost the same color as mine. He was tall, well built in an athletic kind of way, not a football player kind of way, and had a familiar look about him. I finally decided that he looked like Don Grady, that guy on “My Three Sons.”

“Thanks Ted. It was good therapy for me too.”

“Um, you said the guy got his balls blown off? And half of his dick? That makes my skin tingle.”

“Yeah. You should have seen it. He dropped his pants to show me and it was pretty horrific.” I thought it was interesting that he was so fascinated by this.

“What did it look like?” He asked, morbidly curious.

Decision time for me: time to be either the professional, or the pervert. If I was thinking with my big head, I'd have drawn him a picture. But I wasn't. “I can show you Ted, but you'll have to drop you pants.”

He looked at me strangely, and then stood up, unbuttoned his pants, and pulled them down along with his underwear. I got up and locked my door while he did this. He sat back on the couch and I came and knelt in front of him like I was going to suck his dick.

He had a nice package. His dick was about 4 inches long and slightly plump. Exposing himself seemed to slightly excite him. And he had two nice size balls below it, all covered with a layer of brown pubes slightly darker than the ones on his head. I reached down and cupped his balls and felt him jolt with the touch.

“Well, the shards blew up here and must have impacted his balls around here.” As I was talking I was using this opportunity to gently fondle each of his testicles, and his dick was getting plumper as I did it. “So when they went to try and repair them, there was nothing else they could do but cut them off,” and I ran my fingers around the edges of his balls. “Down lower, they just pulled the skin up to help close the wound.” I used that line as an excuse to trail my finger up his perineum. Now he was almost hard. Almost 7 inches I'd say, and average thickness.

I grabbed his dick and held it gently, and that made him moan slightly and brought him to a full erection. Now it was 7 inches for sure. “His penis was cut off right about here, and unfortunately the head was one of the things to go.” As I said this I moved my fingers around the shaft, and then when I referred to the head I lightly ran my palm and fingers around it and back. I noticed a drop of liquid on the tip.

I looked up at him and realized that he'd lost interest in my narrative a long time ago. He was lying on my couch with his pants down and a raging hard on. I gently stroked it up and down in what could only be a masturbatory stroke. He leaned his head back, giving me implied permission to go on.

I leaned forward and licked the drop of pre-cum off the tip and I felt his hand in my hair, not in a way to force my mouth down on him, but in a way that asked me to suck him. I took him in my mouth then, and swallowed him whole. That got a louder moan out of him and he thrust up to meet my willing mouth. He kept his hand in my hair but never once pushed me down. It was more of an affectionate gesture, and I liked it. I fondled his balls when I blew him, and when I felt them rise the first time I backed off, moving my mouth down lower, and my nose as well. He hadn't showered since the morning, so his body smells were pungent. His smell reminded me of Peter's, although perhaps not as sweet, and I nuzzled into his crotch to take in as much of it as I could.

After his balls dropped back down, I continued my work, only this time when they rose up I didn't stop. I felt him harden beneath me, not just his cock but his whole body as it poised itself for a major orgasm. He had tensed up so much his body had raised off the couch and I took that opportunity to run a hand over his ass, to feel his rock hard cheeks as they strained in anticipation of his load. Then he shot. And boy did he shoot. This guy had a load that would drown an inexperienced cocksucker, but not me. I swallowed every drop, and even made sure to squeeze out the excess. It had been a long time since I'd done this, simply pleasured someone else I didn't really know, and it was a fucking blast.

We both stood up and he pulled up his pants. We were both nervous, conscious of having crossed a line. I felt it was up to me to ease the mood, so I reached out my hand and shook his. “It was great spending time with you Ted. You're always welcome to stop by my office to chat, or whatever.” I grinned at him, and he grinned back at me.

“I may just do that,” he said, and left. I walked down to the men's bathroom and squeezed off one hellatious load of my own. All in all, it wasn't a bad day.

I didn’t really get somber again until I got home, but I tried to be as upbeat as I could. Jason and I were eating dinner when there was another knock at the door. We looked at each other with a “what now?” question in our eyes.

I opened the door to find an army Lieutenant staring at me. He was a younger guy, probably in his early 20s. “I'm sorry to bother you,” he said, obviously smelling food, “but I was sent to collect Sergeant Schmidt's personal belongings.” He was trying to sound officious, but he was obviously nervous.

“Certainly Lieutenant, come on in.” The guy carefully walked in and looked around the room.

“Nice place” he said, and then looked worried that he shouldn't have said it. Jason and I smiled at each other. I was tempted to say “boo” to see how high he jumped. He’d probably never done this before, and he wasn't sure what to expect.

I handed him the backpack. “That's all he had when he got here.” The Lieutenant just looked at it.

“Uh, thanks,” he said.

“I'll bet that took a lot less time than you thought it would, didn't it?” I asked.

He smiled. “Yes sir.”

“Good, then you can take a few minutes and join us for dinner.” Jason caught my eye and grabbed another plate. Young guys were always hungry.

“No sir, I couldn't” he said.

“Did your commanding officer tell you that you were allowed to be rude when you picked up the belongings?” I asked, using my martinet voice.

“Nnno sir,” he stammered.

“Then sit down and eat Lieutenant,” I said, and he smiled at me as he sat at the table and ate with us. We didn't really talk all that much other than to find out his name was Sam, but he was obviously hungry. Somehow, by feeding this guy and being nice to him, I felt like I was doing something nice for Andre's memory. Probably bullshit, but hey, at least it's good for my Karma.

I went to bed early, almost right after dinner. I sat in bed and decided to read through the letters that Andre had saved. The first one totally blew me away.

Dearest Andre,

I understand that you've fallen in love with someone, so I won't throw myself at you next time I see you. I just want to tell you that being close to you, being intimate with you, has fulfilled me in a way that I never thought possible. I will always love you.

It wasn't signed but I recognized the handwriting. I ran to the bathroom and vomited my guts out.