A Professor Living Dangerously

A light mist fell as Katherine drove toward the University. The gray skies put her in a reflective mood and as she navigated the morning traffic, her thoughts went to the series of bizarre events that had shaped her life. Only eighteen months had elapsed since the research idea that had changed her career trajectory first percolated in her head, and in that time, her life had gone through wild gyrations touching both negative and positive extremes. Fortunately, the net results launched her forward in a big way, boosting her ego dramatically.

Her research paper had created quite the stir in her field of study putting her on the map at a very young age. Also, she had authored multiple articles for the lay audience and even been featured as a speaker and board member at several seminars. All had been successful, enhancing her personal brand and, hopefully, setting the stage for the future.

As significant as these events proved, Katherine realized that the momentum of her research was waning and that she would be expected to follow-up with something of similar quality. She had been toying with several ideas that were just beginning to gel in her head, so she wasn't overly concerned. Plus, her prior success had instilled in her a level of confidence that helped keep her stress down.

Despite her efforts not to, her thoughts occasionally drifted to the events she endured to gather the data for her research. The required compromises were large, huge really, and her psyche would often become overwhelmed at the recollections. She had never been able to reconcile her behavior with her value set, but fortunately, time acted to dampen the frequency of these episodes, and she hoped that someday she would be able to achieve acceptance.

She often thought about, Chantal, the black dancer, and how important she had been in her escape and recovery. For a time, she had been an integral part of her social life, and together, they had enjoyed multiple sexual romps, some with her husband, Jeff. However, in the past few months, their relationship had started to slip with longer periods between meetups. Thinking rationally, she knew it was probably for the best and since Jeff hadn't mentioned anything, she suspected he felt the same.

Katherine couldn't hold back her smile when she arrived at her office. Larger than most, it overlooked a green space usually filled with student activity. Glancing around, for the hundredth time, she told herself she needed to take some time to neaten the place up. She had never completely unpacked after her move and scattered about the room were stacks of books and papers. With a contented sigh, she sat in her chair and pulled out the class material for her upcoming lecture.

Jeff's mind went to the revelations his wife had shared about her work at the strip club. It was a subject he returned to often as somehow, like a worm in his brain, it continued to squirm and provoke his thoughts. Weeks after the altercation at Sam's condo, she had sat him down for the discussion he knew would eventually take place. The distress on her face was easy to discern so he gave her time and didn't press. All along, he sensed he wasn't receiving the complete story about her club activities, but rather than focus on specifics, they had turned it into something of a teasing game. It had worked on him, perhaps too well, and he guessed Katherine had used it as a coping mechanism by alluding to something while keep much of the detail hidden.

"I...I think it's time that I tell you about it all...everything," she had stammered on a dreary Saturday afternoon.

"Okay," he answered, doing his best to keep a calm outward demeanor.

"Look...this is going to be hard. I mean...I did some things and I'm ashamed. You'll probably hate me," she had told him as her tears welled.

"Katherine, I'm not going to hate you. Take a deep breath and tell me," he had told her as he took her hand.

He had watched as she tried to follow his advice and after struggling for a few seconds, she looked at him with a pitiful expression, and said, "I was bad."

"More than Chantal?" he asked, and when she nodded, he thought for a moment and then said, "Did you have...uh...sex?"

The question had made her burst into tears. For Jeff, the message wasn't a total surprise as her presence at the black man's condo defied simple explanation. He wanted to know more but the pain on his pretty wife's face melted his heart. He was deeply in love with her, and he respected the fact that she cared enough about their marriage to want to clear the air.

"Katherine, stop honey. That's behind us. I don't need to know. Let's move forward," he had whispered as he took her hand.

Instantly, her expression had changed and after a few choked back sobs, she had replied, "You are so special."

The young husband, realizing her vulnerable state, had guided her to bed and for the next several hours they had made slow, passionate love. It took some time, but when his wife's orgasm finally arrived, she had buried her face in his chest and cried for a long time.

The young husband knew he had taken the right approach with regards to their marriage but as the days and weeks ticked by, his brain started to toy with what he had missed. How far exactly had she gone and in what context? Who was involved? He knew about Chantal, of course, and Sam seemed likely but were there others? While she worked in the club, she had sometimes teased him about events, and his dick would usually get hard from the visions churning in his head. Somehow, his arousal would overpower his thoughts and only later would he feel shame about his reactions. Now, he was dealing with similar feelings but, unfortunately, having given her the reprieve, he knew it would be difficult to ask for details.

Sam watched the monitor in the club that showed the main stage. A skinny white girl with dark hair was dancing slowly and the resemblance was just enough for his thoughts to shift to Katherine. He had to admit that her presence in the club had provided a nice diversion from the routine and it had also been good for business. He was disappointed that she had managed to free herself from his clutches as he had hoped to turn her out and make some good money. That made him think about her punk ass white husband and the scene in his condo. His lucky throw had landed just right which caused him profound embarrassment in front of his two guests. It had also wasted a good deal of coke.

In the aftermath of the mess, Sam had followed his mentor's advice and left Katherine alone. He tried to keep his thoughts off the pretty young professor, but he failed, and over time he had developed a seething rage determined for revenge. In his mind, he helped her out when she was in a bind, overlooked her mistakes on many occasions, and was repaid with scorn when he wanted a simple favor. He dismissed the thorough fuckings he gave her as something she had wanted and enjoyed, too.

Slowly, he had developed a plan to get her back in his grasp. It was risky and required the involvement of others, so he had let it stew in his head for a time. After weeks of consideration, he decided he would at least make the first move and stepping outside, he motioned for Roland to join him.

Three days later, the bartender stood in the doorway of the small office waiting for Sam to turn.

"Yeah?" the black man finally said.

"I got it. I think it's the right one," he announced.

"Shit, that didn't take long," he responded as he reached out for the scrap of paper.

After Sam took it, he quickly turned in his chair signaling the discussion had ended. Roland stepped away with a smile on his face as he pondered what fate lay in store for Kat. Knowing Sam, it wouldn't be pretty.

The black club owner listened as the phone rang and he was just about to hang up when a voice answered, "Bueno."

"Is this Jesus?" he quickly replied.

There was a short pause before the man answered, "Who's this?"

"This is Sam the owner of the club you came to a while back. The one where the woman from your school danced. I got an opportunity for you if you come down to see me," he said.

"What opportunity?" Jesus asked suspiciously.

"Let's just say you come and talk to me, and your drinks are free. I'll even throw in a few dances," he replied hoping to pique the janitor's interest.

"Maybe," the Hispanic man answered.

Sam, never one for endless back and forth, responded, "Okay then, you come on down. Sooner the better."

"Maybe, Wednesday," Jesus said.

"Wednesday is good. I'll see you Wednesday," Sam confirmed and then hung up.

The short call confused the university janitor as he had done everything he agreed to during his last visit. He had stayed well away from Katherine and even managed to change work areas so as not to come into contact. He worried that he was being set-up in some way but the allure of free drinks and titties to touch was strong. Maybe, he would even have the chance to get Kat to dance for him again. Since the time they had spent alone together in the back room, he had masturbated dozens of times as he recalled the events. He knew it was very unlikely he would ever be with someone as beautiful again which made each memory special. The thing he liked the best, and which always made his dick spew its contents was the sight of his cum landing on her pussy and disappearing into her folds. As he stood in the hallway, he could feel his dick stiffen, and for a moment he thought about jacking off in the bathroom.

The following Wednesday, a little after 7 PM, Jesus walked up to the door prepared to pay the cover but before he could pull out his tattered billfold the girl waved him inside. The act thrilled him as he rarely received respect, and it also suggested that he wasn't in any trouble. Now, even more curious, he stepped into the dark room where a waitress led him to a table and took his order. After his second beer was gone, he started looking around wondering why the large black man hadn't approached him, making him concerned about the free drinks.

Sam knew the moment that Jesus entered the club, but he wanted him in a good frame of mind when he described his plan, so he let him enjoy his beers. After the waitress brought him his fourth round, he decided the time was right and sent Roland out. Less than a minute later, the Hispanic man stood in the doorway of the small office.

"Have a seat. How's your beer?" the club owner asked.

"It's good," Jesus responded, and before Sam could speak, he added, "I stayed away like you said. I haven't bothered her none."

"I know that man...I know that. You been real good and I appreciate that. You're a man of your word but I got something in mind I need your help with," the black man explained.

Jesus sat up a little higher in his seat when the meaning hit. He was not only free of trouble but a needed entity which made him feel significant.

"What kind of help?" he asked.

"Our girl got a bit uppity and I need help getting her back down. You know what I mean?" he replied, and when he received a confused nod, he continued with, "I want you to meet her in the evening in her office at the school after everyone's left."

Still bewildered, Jesus asked, "Why?"

Sam, deciding to lay it all out in detail, started in on the description of what he had in mind. It took a few minutes and during the explanation he watched as a smile slowly came to the Hispanic man's face.

"What do you think? You in?" Sam asked.

"It's dangerous, I think," Jesus answered.

Two hours later after multiple beers and four table dances, Jesus left the club carrying the package Sam had provided. A broad smile filled his face that was part alcohol, part naked flesh, and elation from the opportunity to do something out of the ordinary. That it involved the pretty professor made it even more special and easily compensated for the risk to his job.

A shudder went through Katherine when she spotted Jesus with his trash bin parked outside an office down the hall. It had been some time since she last saw him, and she had assumed he had changed jobs or transferred to another part of the campus. She hoped his presence was temporary, but when she saw him two days later, her nervousness grew. She had time on her side as their interaction at the club had occurred months ago, but she knew a mere accusation would be damaging, especially in the highly political world of academia.

Jesus had quickly accepted the opportunity to fill in with overtime for a vacationing colleague which gave him reason to be in the same building as Katherine. He managed to adjust his daily work schedule to match hers, but he only had two weeks to pull off the scheme. He and Sam had agreed it would be best to approach her in the evening when most others had left, and he knew from watching her before that she often worked late. Still, he was in the second week and growing nervous when things finally aligned. On the fateful day, he loitered on her floor, pretending to clean, while noting who remained. Finally, down to one man, his excitement peaked when he spotted him leaving for the day. He waited a few minutes to ensure he didn't return, and then quickly made his way to Katherine's closed office door. From earlier, he knew she wore a sleeveless blouse and a tight knee-length skirt, and his dick stiffened at the thought of removing them.

"I need to clean," he said with his heavy accent when she looked up from her desk.

"Can't you come later?" Katherine replied as a feeling of distress swept through her body.

Without speaking, Jesus wheeled the bin inside and closed the door. The young woman, sensing something was off, felt her fight or flight sense start to kick in and she had to force herself to stay calm and seated.

The janitor got a sudden case of the nerves, too, and started to shuffle about the space, but the squeaking of Katherine's chair brought his focus back.

"I want to see your tits," he demanded, as he put himself between her and the door.

"No, you need to get out of there right now," she responded angrily.

"I've seen them before," he replied with a smirk.

Katherine, was silent for a few seconds as she processed the situation, and then said, "You made an agreement...with Sam. You agreed not to bother me."

Jesus, had to fight hard to keep from laughing. He wondered what she would say if he told her it was Sam that sent him on the mission.

"Let me see them. Take off your shirt," he repeated. However, this time before she could respond, he threatened her with, "You want people to know about the bar? All the shit you did?"

"Sam said no..." she started.

"Fuck Sam," he interrupted. Her startled expression acted to push him forward and he said, "Let me see or I'll tell everyone."

Naively, he had hoped she would agree on her own despite Sam's coaching that he would have to bring up the club to get her to agree. The black man had also told him to use it as many times and as forcefully as it took to make her give in. As the words exited his mouth, his excitement grew and any trepidation he held vanished.

Katherine realized the man was on the ragged edge of control. Her use of Sam's name had provided no help which meant she had no viable option other than to call his bluff. Unfortunately, it came with monumental risk to her future and could easily lead to her dismissal as well as the retraction of her paper. As Katherine pondered her course, she realized that they did not have symmetric risk. The janitor loss was only a menial job, easily replaced, while she faced career destruction.

"If...if I do...you'll leave me alone?" she asked, her voice coming out as tiny squeak.

"Yeah...yeah okay..." he answered.

Katherine thought about pressing him for a more affirmative agreement, but she knew it really didn't matter. Afterall, he had already reneged once. At best, she knew she would gain some time and maybe she'd get lucky and he'd fulfill his promise. It wasn't much but it was all she had as any harassment action on her part would give him the opportunity to reveal all.

"Just for a second and then you leave, right? For good, I mean," she said.

Jesus gave her a quick nod and after taking a deep breath, she stood and started to work the buttons on her blouse. Once undone, she kept the top hanging on her shoulders as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra. When it came free, she lowered the cups, exposing her firm orbs, and looking up she saw Jesus' leering eyes.

"Take the things off. I want to see you naked," he demanded.

"No, this is it," she countered quickly.

"You want me to tell? You want me to tell Dominguez?" he replied.

His use of her mentor's name told the young professor that he had more information on her situation than she imagined. Suddenly, his threat grew exponentially and put her into an alarmed state.

"Please..." she begged.

"Take them off," he repeated, showing no mercy.

As little whimpers escaped her mouth, Katherine pulled her blouse free then lifted her cups and dropped the garments on her desk. Naked from the waist up, her chest heaved from her heavy, nervous breathing which made her Hispanic tormentor even more excited. He stepped forward and Katherine, hoping to keep a safe separation, stepped back until she was in the corner of the office near the window.

"No, Jesus...please..." she whined when he drew near.

Without speaking, he reached out and used his fingertip to tease one of her small nipples. Surprised that she hadn't swatted his hand away, he did the same with her other bud. He could feel his hard cock pushing awkwardly against his pants and he broke contact just long enough to move it into a more comfortable position.

Katherine realized that the situation was rapidly getting out of control, and she feared he would soon become too excited to stop. She was staring at his face thinking about what to do when she felt his hand on her waist. At first, the move confused her, but when she felt him tug on the zipper of her skirt, she understood his intent.

"I want you naked," he said to her sternly as they started a hand war.

"No, no way," she declared.

"I've seen you naked before," he tried.

"Then you don't need to again," she countered.

"Do you want me to tell? I'll tell the Dean and you'll be in trouble," he threatened.

"And you'll be fired," she responded.

Her words made him laugh and he said, "I can clean floors anywhere."

She knew the statement was true, but she continued to try and halt his efforts while fighting back her instinct to scream. Unfortunately, just seconds later, he managed to get a firm hold and with a quick pull, he had the zipper lowered. Now, her hands moved to the waist of the skirt, but it was a losing battle and when he had it over her hips, she gave up. With a final tug, he had it pooled at her feet, and he used his hands to turn her so he could take in her beautiful, toned ass. It brought back powerful memories of her on stage and dancing for him privately in the back room of the club.

Turned toward the window, Katherine could see several students playing Frisbee on the lawn as Jesus used his hand to knead her rear. For a moment, she thought they might spot her, but the angles seemed bad and the distance too far. When Jesus' hand moved to the inside of her thigh, a sudden tingling bolt fired through her body that landed in her nipples. She could feel them harden, and embarrassed, she lifted her arms to provide cover.

Jesus had gone farther than what he had agreed with Sam, but he wanted more. An idea based on their last encounter hit him and without speaking, he took the young wife by the hips and backed her until he was sitting in her chair.

"Dance for me. Like at the club," he demanded.

"Then you'll go?" she replied.

"Yeah..." he answered.