Chronicles Of An Academic Predator - 39. Chapter 39

 

April 20, 1963

 

I pulled Mike into the bedroom, and once there we both started undressing. It was so exciting to watch him undress because he had his entire cop gear, his gun, his hand cuffs, and his billy club. There was something amazingly attractive about a man in uniform, especially a policeman.

 

Both of us undressed and stood on either side of the bed eying each other nervously. He was a big guy. His muscles were big, his chest was big, and he had a slight paunch that on some guys would look bad, but on him looked sexy. His legs were big, and his dick was big. It was as long as Jason's, but not nearly as thick. And to top it all off, he had a hairy body, which normally didn't turn me on, but with his red hair, it really got my juices flowing.

 

I climbed on the bed and moved over to him on my knees and took his growing cock into my mouth. He had been on the beat all day, and hadn't showered, so his crotch reeked of both body odor and his special musky smell. Some guys turned me off when they were smelly, but this guy didn't. I inhaled him, and he reminded me of Peter, with that male smell tinged with that odor of sweet vinegar. He grabbed my head and began thrusting into my mouth, fucking it, which jammed his cock into my throat and choked me. I solved the problem by wrapping my fist around the base of his cock so he could only force his way in so far. It seemed to work for him. Suddenly, without warning, he shot his load in my mouth. I'm not a connoisseur of cum, but his had a sharp, sour taste that wasn't pleasant.

 

After he was done, he pulled out and reached for his pants. “What are you doing?” I asked.

 

“I thought I should probably get going,” he said nervously. I knew the pattern. This guy had only had encounters.

 

“Mike, come here,” I said, tapping the bed. He reluctantly, very reluctantly sat next to me. I pushed him onto his stomach and began massaging his shoulders and his back. Gradually, he relaxed.

 

“Mmmm. Feels good,” he said.

 

“So have you been with many guys?” I asked. He tensed a bit.

 

“A few, not many,” he said.

 

“And I'll bet that when you were with them, it was in public somewhere, where you had a quickie, he blew you or you blew him, and then when you were done you left as fast as you could.”

 

“Yeah, how did you know?”

 

I turned him over and started rubbing his chest. His cock was showing signs of life again. “I've been there, done that. You think that if you leave fast enough, you might be able to outrun the guilt.” He just nodded.

 

“It doesn't work. So when you have a chance to actually spend some time with a guy who is into you, I recommend that you take advantage of it.”

 

He was getting hard again. “That sounds like good advice,” he said.

 

“You ever fuck another guy?” I asked.

 

He gulped. “You mean, in the ass?”

 

“No, in the ear,” I countered teasingly.

 

“No, I haven't really done much. I've just gotten blown, and, well, blown a few guys.”

 

I reached for the Vaseline. “You know what? I think you're going to like it.”

 

He looked at me nervously as I reached for his pole, but as soon as I started lubing up his cock, he was like putty in my hands. I straddled him and lined his cock up with my hole, and slowly lowered myself onto him. Damn he was big. It was awesome.

 

He moaned, and then looked at me, his eyes wide, staring at my throbbing cock as I slowly moved up and down on him. “Doesn't that hurt?” he asked.

 

“Well, you have a really big dick,” I said, stroking his ego. He grinned at that. “But does it look like I'm in pain?”

 

“No, you look like you're having a lot of fun.”

 

I smiled down at him. “I am.” Then I rolled off of him, watching the disappointment on his face when he popped out of me, but then the grin as I pulled him on top of me. He was new to this, awkward, but it just made him cuter. I grabbed my ankles, holding my ass in the air for him, and he re-entered me. Then I let my legs go so my calves rested against his shoulders.

 

He started pumping and as crappy as he was at blow jobs, he more than made up for it here. He varied his strokes and moved around, which enabled him to hit my spot from different angles. And his long cock meant that when he hit that spot it wasn't a poke, but a long, smooth stroke. I looked down at my own dick and it was leaking like a garden hose. He stared at it too, seemingly amazed.

 

Usually I needed some stimulation to cum, but the way he was hitting my prostate, that wasn't going to be necessary. I felt my balls rise, felt the inevitable surge, and then I shot. It was a big load, huge by my standards, and blasted all over him, and me. He stared at me amazed.

 

“Should I stop now?” he asked. God, what a cutie.

 

“No Mike, you feel so good, even after I came. Come on, keep on fucking me. Fuck me hard, as hard as you can.” That really got him going and he pummeled me, really pummeled me, and in no time he shot his second load up my ass. Afterwards, he collapsed on top of me and I pulled him to me and ran my fingers through his sexy red hair. Just like I did when I was with Jeff, I thought, a pang of guilt flying through my psyche.

 

“You're not going to run away are you?” I asked.

 

“No, I think I'll stick around,” he said with a smile. I grabbed a towel and wiped us both off, and then, exhausted and spent, we went to sleep. I was a little disappointed because he just rolled over, his back to me. I was spoiled by my teddy bear. But his presence was reassuring.

 

April 21, 1963

 

When I woke up, Mike had already gone. He left me a simple note that said “Thanks” and had his phone number on it. I lounged in bed, feeling lazy, until I remembered Jason. I jumped into the shower, and even though I felt guilty about sleeping in, I still took a long one. I stopped for breakfast and didn't get to the hospital until almost noon, although some of that time was spent scrambling to find the keys to Jeff's car. It was strange to drive it again. It felt like part of him, yet it was familiar to me too. It was a good kind of strange. I'd tried to call him before I left, but he wasn't around. Probably pulled an all-nighter for Prom, I surmised, and smiled to myself.

 

Jason was much more alert when I got there. “Hi, I came to spring you,” I said.

 

“I wish. They haven't told me when they're going to let me out of here. Apparently the cops want to interview me.”

 

I shrugged. “They arrested me last night.” His eyes got wide.

 

“JP, I'm so sorry. Oh my God, you must hate me. First your condo gets trashed, and then you get arrested. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.” He was almost hysterical.

 

I leaned in close to him. “Relax Jason, it all turned out OK. The cop that arrested me ended up driving me home and helped me clean the place up. It's just like new.”

 

“Still, you shouldn't have had to do that. As soon as I get out of here, I have to move out. I can't expose you and your things to this bullshit.”

 

“Jason, Jason, Jason,” I chided. “You're not going anywhere. You're my friend, and you've been there for me, I'll be there for you.” I saw him about to protest. “Besides, I seduced the cop and got him to fuck me.”

 

Jason looked up at me, stunned, then he smiled, then he just cracked up. We were laughing pretty hard when the nurse came in and gave me a dirty look, which I ignored.

 

“Mr. Strubbe is supposed to stay calm,” she said.

 

“Laughter is the best medicine,” I responded, and that got me a frown. She stalked off.

 

“So, here's the deal.” I said, looking at him. “You didn't tell me the whole story with your parents.” I saw his shields go up. “No Jason, no more bullshit. I don't mind the condo being trashed, but I do mind you being here. You're going to come clean. You owe me that much.” I was sincere, and he knew it.

 

“OK. I'm sorry. I should have told you. My father is a drunk. Not only that, he has a gambling problem. He owes this loan shark guy in Peoria a bunch of money, and they came by to get it one day. They started to beat the shit out of my dad, then my mom intervened and they were about to lay into her. That's when I stopped them. I told them I'd work to help pay off his debt. My sister did the same thing. So we've been sending money to my parents, and they've been giving it to Vinnie. Pretty cliché name for a loan shark, huh? Vinnie Costello.”

 

“So why did they come after you?” I asked.

 

“My parents haven't been giving him the money. They told him I was holding out. So he sent some toughs to rough me up.”

 

“How much do you owe them?

 

“$5000,” he said. “The problem is, as soon as we start to pay it down, my father borrows more and bets more. And then they hold my sister and me responsible.”

 

“I'll see if I can do something to help.”

 

“Be careful JP. These guys, well, they're bad news.” I just shrugged.

 

I left the hospital and headed to campus to see what was on the agenda, go through my mail, shit like that. Before I immersed myself in that, I called Mike.

 

“Hey Mike, it's JP,” I said when I got him on the phone.

 

“JP. Good to hear from you,” he said, although I'm not sure if he meant it.

 

“You know when we were talking last night and you said you might know someone who could help me with my problem?” I asked

 

“Yeah. I think I might. Give me your number.” I gave it to him.

 

I sat there going through the mail, and reading pleading notes from students whining about their grade on a paper, or a test. I put them all aside for Jason to deal with, all except one. Ted Bailey asked me and Jason to review his grade. Maybe I'd handle that one myself. I grinned at the thought of my last encounter with Ted, and how I had blown his mind.

 

The phone rang and I was in such a trance it scared me. “Hello,” I said cautiously.

 

“Go to the Drake Hotel tonight.” It was Mike, but he didn't identify himself. “In the bar there will be a guy smoking a cigar. He's bald. His name is Louie. He'll help you out.” And then he hung up. It dawned on me that Mike was really going out on a limb for me. How did he know this guy? Was he on the mob payroll? Did it make any difference? He said “tonight.” When was that? I figured that on a Sunday, “tonight” was 8PM.

 

I spent the day getting myself organized. I had a nice card from all the faculty members, and another from the secretaries, offering me condolences on Billy's death. It was a nice gesture, but they reminded me that Billy was dead, and that depressed me.

 

I went home, showered and changed, and raided my safe. I kept $10,000 in there. I took out $7,500 and headed for the car. I was really nervous since I had so much cash, and since those goons obviously knew where I lived. I drove downtown to the Drake and valet parked. I figured that would save me from walking through a parking garage alone, with a stash of money on me. I tipped the valet attendant without even thinking about it and strolled into the hotel. It's a beautiful building, very Old World. I headed to the bar and there in the corner, puffing on a cigar, was a bald guy looking around impatiently. I approached him carefully.

 

“Louie?” I said.

 

“Yeah. You're late.”

 

“I'm sorry.” I sat down. “I was told to meet you here tonight, and I just assumed that 8PM was night.”

 

“Damn Micks can't even get a simple time right,” he grumbled.

 

“I appreciate you waiting around to meet with me,” I said, trying to move the conversation on.

 

“Our friend says you have a problem and you could use some help,” he said.

 

“It's actually not my problem; it concerns one of my employees. His father is a drunk, and is in debt to a lender for five grand. Seems somewhere along the line, my employee and his sister ended up guaranteeing the loan.” I handed him a paper with Vinnie Costello’s name on it.

 

“So what do you want from me?” he asked cautiously.

 

“I want you to handle a business transaction for me.”

 

“Go on,” he said.

 

“I want to pay back the debt they owe, and I want the kid and his sister off the hook for their bum of a father, now, and forever.”

 

He studied me carefully and took a pull off his cigar. I smiled inside, sensing his frustration because he couldn't read me, couldn't get past my walls. “I know this guy,” he said. “Actually, I know his boss. I can help you out. Of course, there's going to be a transaction fee.”

 

“Of course,” I said. “We're not communists.” That made him laugh, a big belly laugh. This guy probably murdered scads of people, but ironically he was rather likable. “What do you think would be a fair transaction fee?” I asked.

 

“Two Grand. You hand me seven grand and your problem goes away. And a bonus, no one in this city will fuck with you or your friend.” He looked at me like he expected me to argue.

 

I handed him the envelope with the money. “Here's $7,500. Keep the extra $500; my way of saying sorry for being late.” He took the envelope and smiled at me.

 

“You got class kid. You don't wander into my world very often, I'll bet. You don't want to either.”

 

“No I don't, but then you don't wander into mine either. But don't you think it's the differences that make people interesting?”

 

He chuckled. “If you say so.”

 

I recognized that the meeting was over. I stood up and shook his hand. “Thanks Louie.” He just nodded at me.

 

I got my car and headed back to my condo. Louie and his world scared and intrigued me, but I felt really dirty, like I needed a shower. As it turned out, that's the first thing I did when I got back. I was lounging around reading, wearing just my robe when the doorbell rang. I got nervous. Louie wouldn't have had time to call off those goons yet. I headed to the door and opened it carefully. It was Willie Jackson.

 

“Hey Willie, how're you doing?” I was so relieved.

 

“I'm doing fine. You invited me to stop by sometime, so I figured I'd take you up on that. If you don't mind, that is.”

 

“Mind? Hell no. I'm glad to see you.” I guided him to the bedroom and dropped my robe.

 

“Nice,” he said as he took off his clothes. He must be really horny. He was already hard.

 

He walked over to me and kissed me, the taste of cigarettes reminding me briefly of Andre. He pushed me back on the bed and lay on top of me, grinding his fit, young, lanky body against mine. I felt his cock rubbing against mine, his pubes sliding against my dick, feeling both soft and prickly at the same time.

 

“You wanna fuck me Willie?” I asked him.

 

“Yeah,” he said, and I lubed up his cock. Damn he had a pretty dick.

 

He was in a hurry, must have been holding back for awhile, so he drove into me without a lot of foreplay. It was no problem; I had become a pro, so I could handle it. I figured that after fucking Ronnie he'd just ram it in me and go nuts. But he didn't do that. He was almost tender in the way he thrust into me. He kept me pinned down, like a good wrestler should, and I loved that, the feeling of being dominated when I was being fucked, but he gave me enough lee-way that I could move around and maximize my own pleasure. The only bad thing is that he didn't last very long. In no time at all, he was blasting inside my ass.

 

“I'm sorry,” he said apologetically. “I came too soon.”

 

“Bullshit,” I said. “You are turning into one awesome lover Willie. You been practicing?” He grinned at me, and I remembered what a fragile thing a young male's sexual ego was.

 

“A little. I been fucking Ronnie, but he's just like you said. He likes it rough, hard. If I try to be nice, he turns into an asshole. With him, I feel like I'm using his ass to masturbate. With you, I feel like I'm having great sex.”

 

“Aren't you charming?” I said, flirting. “I'm not sure how to change Ronnie. I don't think either one of us has the skills to help him work through it. I guess you have to decide if you really care about him, and if you do, do you care enough to try to work through it?”

 

“I don't know. He was my fantasy; the thought of being with him like this was always at the top of my jack-off fantasies. And now that I'm doing it, it's not as great as I thought it would be.”

 

“Well Willie, there are a number of different factors that determine whether people are compatible, and sex is one of them. If it was anyone else, I'd tell you to sit him down and tell him how you feel. But with Ronnie, I'm not sure that would work.”

 

“It won't. I tried.” The poor guy seemed so dejected.

 

“So after he told you to fuck off, did you still bone him?”

 

“How did you know he told me to fuck off?” he asked, smiling. “That's exactly what he said. And yeah, I was horny, so I went ahead and fucked him.”

“I don't have the answer Willie, but I'll tell you what I would do if it was me.” I had his attention now. “If it was me, and the sex was bad, and he didn't care that I didn't enjoy it, I'd stop fucking him. Jack off, meet someone new, whatever, but if you want change, I'll bet you'll have to cut him off.”

 

“Well, I did meet you,” he said, and kissed me gently. Uh oh.

 

“Yeah, you did. And I love playing around with you. You're a good lover. But I do have someone special in my life. We're not monogamous, now, but he has my heart. I don't want to lead you on.” He looked a little sad, but OK.

 

“So I can still come by?”

 

“Yeah, you can still come by. Just call first.” He kissed me again, then again, and then it got more fervent. Soon he was on top of me, slicking up my cock, and gently lowering himself on top of me. He had gotten me so keyed up it didn't take me long to shoot. It didn't take him long either, even though it was the second time. He ended up spending the night, but unlike Mike, he spooned up behind me. I slept like a log.

 

April 22, 1963

 

It was my first day back and I was determined to get my classes back on track. Based on the reaction I got when I returned, I got the impression that Jason had some work to do on his lecture skills. I had really grown to like these kids, and I really appreciated the way they'd responded when Fritz died, so I decided to tell them about Billy.

 

“You know this has been a pretty crappy year for me so far. A few weeks ago I lost my cousin Billy, a guy I grew up with, I was the best man at his wedding, and I was godfather to two of his kids. He was serving on the Thresher and was so proud to be on one of the latest nuclear attack submarines. As you all know, though, some flaw caused the Thresher to sink, and took Billy and the crew with it.” I went on and talked about growing up with Billy, very similar to my talk at his memorial service. Then I told them about the memorial service and how I'd gotten to meet the First Lady. In all, it took ten minutes of class time, but they really seemed to appreciate the personal touch, so it was worth it.

 

Classes went great, but without Jason there, I had to pick up all the admin work. Jason was due to come home today, in fact I was picking him up after class, but he wouldn't be back at work until next week. Probably the most interesting event was a meeting I scheduled with Peterson. I told him about the First Lady's comments regarding my paper and he didn't seem surprised at all. I had the feeling that he had something to do with it, probably sent the paper to them. It hadn't even been published yet, although it was due to hit the Journal at the end of the month. I wondered if he was sending it to the government for censorship. If so, that was a huge ethical breech. The thought of that really pissed me off, but I decided not to let sheer speculation get to me. If I couldn't publish it in the U.S., I'd publish it in France and Canada. Surely they wouldn't be bold enough to try and quash that, would they?

 

I got back to my office and collapsed onto my couch. I was supposed to go get Jason, and I needed to get a new television, but I just wanted a little peace and quiet first. But it was not to be. There was a knock at my door. I got excited. Maybe it was Ted. But it wasn't. It was Professor Adams. We'd been so absorbed in our work that we hadn't had a whole lot of contact.

 

“Hey JP,” he said, looking around sheepishly.

 

“Hey! Come on in and have a seat!” I said, turning up my friendliness factor.

 

“I'm probably not supposed to say anything, but I wanted you to know that last week, while you were gone, the FBI came in to pay a visit.” He looked scared, not just because they'd been here, but because he was telling me.

 

“What did they want?” I was intrigued.

 

“They wouldn't say, but they asked a lot of questions about you. I think your latest paper may have ruffled some feathers.”

 

“Really? So was there a final result of their visit?”

 

“I heard that they wanted Peterson to lean on you to tone it down, and he told them to go fuck themselves. I don't think they were too happy with him.”

 

“He said that?”

 

“Those exact words, according to one of the secretaries who was probably eavesdropping.” said Adams.

 

“Well that's really cool. It's vital to our academic integrity. Good for Peterson.”

 

“Then you're not worried?” he asked.

 

“No. What are they going to do, run me out of the country? I could get French Citizenship through my mother in a heartbeat. They won't make their case by harassing people who study facts and print the truth.” I wondered if I was right about that last part.

 

“Well, I wasn't supposed to tell you. I think that the rest of the faculty was worried that it would impact your work, and we're all really proud of you.”

 

“Thanks man,” I said. “And thanks for telling me. I always knew you were a friend I could count on.” He smiled and slunk out of my office, like a good dorky professor should. I felt bad for suspecting Peterson of trying to sell me out to the government. The guy had faced down the Feds for me. He was golden.

 

I stopped on the way to the hospital to buy a new television. I was in a weird mood, so I bought the biggest, best, most expensive television I could find, and I put it on my parent's BankAmericard. My way of telling them I loved them, in a twisted kind of way. It would be delivered tomorrow.

 

Jason was ready and waiting for me. I sensed he was a little annoyed that I'd kept him waiting an extra hour. That and he seemed really nervous. He was still worried about the goons.

 

We got in the car and were driving home when I told Jason about my conversation with Adams. “You know, those guys that came in were talking about the loans that I owed, but I wonder if they planted bugs.” I stopped the car and stared at him, stunned.

 

“Do you think they would do that?” I asked.

 

“Who knows? Maybe we should get the place swept,” he said.

 

“Jason, you're going to be home this week, so why don't you see if you can get that done for me.”

 

“Sure thing JP.”

 

“One more thing. You won't need to send any more money home.”

 

“What do you mean? You didn't call the feds did you?” He panicked.

 

“No, I talked to a compatriot of your buddies in Peoria, a guy named Louie, and paid him to make the loans go away and to cut off your dad's line of credit.”

 

“You did that? Why?”

 

“To give you a fresh clean start on life Jason. Now you can worry about you.” He didn't seem as happy as I thought he'd be.

 

“What happens if my father runs up debts again? They'll come after me and my sister.” I couldn't tell if he was worried about him and his sister, or his parents.

 

“No, that's part of the deal. You're no longer responsible for his debts. And neither is your sister.”

 

“JP, I don't know how to thank you. I'll find a way to pay you back, I promise. I have to call my sister,” he said, excitedly.

 

“Better use a pay phone, just in case,” I said.