Date: Mon, 7 Jun 2004 08:51:14 EDT
From: Keybedder@aol.com
Subject: The Halls of Academe (part 3)

THE HALLS OF ACADEME, PART THREE by K. Nitsua. Copyright 2004 by the
author.

"Glenn, why do you want to do this?" Jon Evans asked. We were in his
spacious office in the main administration building.

After almost three decades at Steelman College, ten years of it as Provost,
Jon's hair had turned silver from its original dark brown. His eyes,
though, were still that color, bright and slightly too prominent, giving
him a look of perpetual inquiry.

"And why now? Why not finish out the year?"

I was going to have to tell the whole story, as I'd suspected.

"You know Drew, of course."

"Of course. A bright young addition to your department, and to the Steelman
faculty."

"He and I have, well, become involved."

A pause. "I see." I couldn't read anything from Jon's expression.

"To continue as his chair, specifically, to evaluate his first-year
performance would be a conflict of interest. That's why I'm asking to be
replaced."

"How long has this been going on?"

"As of last night."

Jon Evans chuckled. "You don't waste any time." He grew sober again. "I
agree that this could create some awkwardness, possibly damage morale
within your department if you're not careful. However," he smiled, "You're
going to be hard to replace. You've been chair quite a while, and a good
one. You think Marcia could do it?"

I thought of Marcia's reaction when I'd teased her about being chair. "She
won't be pleased. Not one bit."

"You see what I mean? And she's the likeliest candidate. How about
terminating this thing with Drew if I raise your chair's stipend?" Jon
laughed at what must have been my shocked expression. "I'm only teasing. I
know you never would."

He was silent for a minute. "How about this. I'll relieve you of the
responsibility of writing Drew's first-year evaluation. Surely Marcia would
be willing to take on that one task. You stay on as chair until the end of
the spring, while I soften her up about taking over next year. What do you
think?"

I did some quick thinking. "There's just one problem. Marcia's going to
have to know why she's doing Drew's evaluation."

"True. The other alternative would be for me to do it. I'm not sure,
however, that would be fair to Drew. It's important that faculty be
evaluated first by other faculty."

He had me there. This was a cornerstone of Steelman's governance system.

"Okay," I said at last. "I'll just have to swear her to secrecy."

"Glenn, may I offer some unsolicited advice?"

"Of course."

"Marcia is a good person. She'll keep your secret. But trust me, people are
going to find out. Do you remember what I said at your candidate
interview?"

I looked at the floor. "How could I forget? I owe you my career."

"Well, I still believe what I said then. But you and Drew can do a lot to
minimize fallout by the way you conduct yourselves."

Jon leaned forward and lowered his voice. He was talking to me now as a
friend, not as an administrator.

"You know of course that Kevin is a Steelman alum. He and I started our
relationship after he graduated, and well after he had been in one of my
classes. To this day you'll hear that I seduced him when he was my student.

"People are going to assume the worst about you, no matter what the truth
is. I wish you and Drew well."

He paused, then winked. "Hell, I'm jealous. I told Kevin we could double
the circulation of the Steelman alumni magazine by putting Drew Ohlen on
the cover in his workout gear."

"So what did he say?" Drew asked that night, over dinner at the local
Applebee's.

I sighed. "I can't say enough good things about Jon."

"So he's okay with it?"

I told him what the provost had said. Drew frowned.

"Well, I wish Marcia wasn't doing my spring eval. She doesn't like me."

"I'll see to it she's fair, Drew. I'm still chair."

He shrugged. "If this means you're not going to dump me, I guess I can deal
with it."

"Don't joke about that."

Drew's eyebrows danced with mischief. From the beginning he had enjoyed
teasing me and that hadn't changed.

"You're so uptight. Guess we'll have to loosen you up some more."

He pressed his knee against mine under the table.

"When?" The word stuck in my dry throat. I saw the glint in his eye.

"Just as soon as you finish your vegetables, Glenny."

We went to Drew's tiny apartment that night, changing locales like
fugitives.

"I know it's not as nice as your place, but at least it's not next door to
Elden Lewis," he said, emerging naked from the bathroom. Drew definitely
was a bit of an exhibitionist. Then again, he could get away with it. Even
in flaccid repose his cock was a prize specimen, matched by his heavy balls
in their hair-brushed sack. I felt my own cock stiffening underneath the
covers of his bed.

"You really don't like him, do you?"

"Does anybody?" Drew asked, climbing onto the bed in a graceful,
panther-like move, muscles rippling in his back and shoulders. He lowered
his head toward mine for a kiss. It was a moment before we resumed our
conversation.

"How's his son doing in your World History Survey class this semester?"

He shook his head. "Nathan's been fine. Tell you what, Glenn, that's a gay
boy."

I raised my eyebrows. "Really?"

Drew nodded. "Take a good look at him sometime."

"Think Elden knows?"

He snorted. "Not likely. I wouldn't want to be his son when the truth comes
out. Let's not talk about him anymore. It's spoiling the mood. What're you
hiding underneath those covers anyway?" he said, flinging the blanket
aside. He clicked his tongue. "Jesus. You still have your shorts on."

"That's the way I sleep."

"Who said anything about sleeping?" In a flash my boxers were down to my
thighs and Drew's head was in my crotch. I closed my eyes and sighed as my
cock grew to full length in his expert mouth. Drew rolled his eyes as he
finished stripping me and flung the shorts to the floor.

"We're going to have to get you different underwear. Screw this grandpa
stuff," he said.

After the night before I wouldn't have thought Drew had anything more to
teach me about sex, but I was wrong. He took me from behind this time, on
my knees with my head down, my ass in the air. I grunted as he slammed into
me, his swinging balls hitting mine on each downstroke. Every time I
reached for my cock he grabbed my hand and pulled it away. I wasn't going
to concede. We ended up in a wrestling match on the bed, panting and
laughing, his cock still inside me.

"That does it," Drew said. He pulled out and disappeared below the edge of
the bed. A minute later he reemerged, a look of mysterious triumph on his
face, holding what I saw was a shoelace from one of my school shoes.

"What are you doing?" I asked, still lying on my stomach, as he took hold
of one of my wrists. "Oh no, you don't," I said, as I figured out what he
was going to do. I tried to wriggle away but his grip was iron.

"C'mon, Glenny. I promise you'll like it."

His voice was low and persuasive. I looked into his face, a small smile on
his lips. His charm was as potent as it had been last night, when he had
persuaded me to give up my ass to him.

I might have been his superior in everyday life, but right now my younger
colleague was running the show. My mouth was dry as I said the words.

"Do it before I change my mind."

In another moment I was back where we had started, left cheek against the
pillow and butt in the air, my hands tied behind my back, unable to protect
myself. To my amazement I was rock hard, my erection aching with need. Once
again Drew was taking me to places I'd never been.

He applied fresh lube, working his finger into my sensitive places,
stroking the head of my cock as he nudged my prostate. He positioned
himself behind me, letting me feel the blunt head of his penis bump against
my hole, teasing me by withholding entry until I was begging him to fuck
me. My incoherent words turned into a long wail as he suddenly sank all the
way in, pressing his pubic bone against my butt.

His fucking this time was slow and deep, making me feel every inch of him
as he withdrew and thrust into me again and again. His hands roved around
the front of my body, pinching my nipples, stroking my cock almost to the
point of shooting but never quite far enough, covering my mouth or
thrusting fingers inside for me to lick.

His hot breath bathed the back of neck, his teeth nipped at my earlobe, his
tongue tickled me until I was helpless with laughter.

And there wasn't one thing I could do about any of it.

Finally Drew must have sensed I was reaching my limit. He withdrew, flipped
me onto my back and took me into his mouth, thrusting two fingers into my
stretched, sensitized hole, blowing me in long, hard strokes until I gave
up my load with hoarse shouts of triumph, every drop of it going down his
throat.

He pulled the rubber off of his cock and straddled my chest, pressing my
pinioned arms painfully into the mattress while he stroked himself off,
delivering his own spunk in hot splashes in my face. Not until then did he
turn me onto my side and untie my hands.

I rolled slowly over onto my back, extending arms stiff from their long
restraint, keeping my eyes closed, sticky fluid running down my face and
neck.

"You okay, Glenn?"

I opened my eyes. Drew was kneeling beside me, a trace of anxiety in his
eyes.

"Was I too rough?"

It was another moment before I could speak.

"Tying up and fucking the department chair. Every junior faculty member's
fantasy."

He chuckled. "You must be okay." He went into the bathroom, got a towel and
cleaned me up before lying back down next to me. I turned and took his face
in my hands.

"Seriously, thanks. I'd never felt like that before."

Drew smiled. "At your service, Mr. Chairman. Besides, I'm getting my part
of the deal too."

"What do you mean?"

"The ancient Greeks thought young scholars could acquire the wisdom of
their elders by drinking their sperm. Where do you think the word `seminar'
comes from?"

I hooted. "Nice try, Dr. Ohlen."

Drew's eyes were dancing as usual. "Hey, it's an educational idea whose
time has `cum' again. And, Dr. Reynolds," he leered, "I intend to acquire
as much wisdom as I can from my department chair."

In another time and place I might have enjoyed the look on Marcia's face
when I asked her to take over the task of writing Drew's first-year
evaluation, and told her why.

"Well," she finally said, "This is a surprise. I wouldn't have expected
this of you."

"What, wanting a little happiness in my life, Marcia? What's wrong with
that?"

Her expression was sober. "I'll admit, I'm not a real big fan of
Drew's. But I can't help wondering whether happiness is what you're going
to get out of this."

"I appreciate the concern. But maybe I'm old enough to make my own
mistakes."

"If it were just about you that would be one thing. But like it or not,
this concerns the department as well."

My voice was stiff. "Don't you think I've thought of that? Anyway, whether
this has a negative effect on the department depends mostly on your
discretion. I'm assuming you're not going to start blabbing about this as
soon as you get of here."

Her eyes snapped with anger. "Of course not." After a moment she
sighed. "Sorry, I was out of line. I've no right to try and tell you how to
run your life." A glint of humor appeared in her eye. "Is my not wanting to
be chair a valid reason for hoping it doesn't work out?"

I laughed, the tension between us broken. "We'll cross that bridge when we
come to it."

For a while it seemed like Marcia's worries were unfounded. I'll remember
those next few weeks not only because of the hot, almost nightly sex Drew
and I had, but because we were so happy.

Whether it was because I had conceded his dominant role in bed, or because
I was no longer sitting in on his classes evaluating him, I don't know, but
Drew's and my relationship changed, I think for the better. We still talked
about his teaching, but informally, over lunch or after work. He showed me
drafts of an article he was working on. I was flattered that he was even
asking my opinion, and told him so.

"Why, Glenn? Did you think I was just saying that about your mind? I've
read some of your stuff. It's damn good."

I was surprised and pleased, but tried not to let on. "You must have done
some digging. I haven't published anything for years. Not since I became
chair."

He leaned forward, that familiar wicked glint in his eye. "So I did you a
double favor by seducing you. You're going to give up being chair and go
back to being a scholar, like you should."

I tried to parry. "Assuming you stick around here. I'm betting you take off
as soon as that book you're working on comes out, and the glowing reviews
pour in."

"Don't be so sure."

Of course, that was the one thing that kept me from abandoning myself to
the joy of being with Drew. Most days I succeeded in not thinking about the
long term. To Drew's credit, he never made any promises, nor did I ask him
for any. We enjoyed our time moment by moment.

I didn't even take the first signs of approaching disaster all that
seriously.

One afternoon Drew stopped by during my office hour. One look at his face
and I could tell something out of the ordinary had happened.

In answer to my query he produced a one-page letter written on University
stationery.

I skimmed through it.

"Someone's filed a sexual harassment complaint against you."

"Well, I know that." It wasn't like him to snap at me, so I knew he was
really worried. "This is bad, Glenn. What can I do about it?"

I tried to reassure him. "This is a notification the administration is
required to give any time a Steelman faculty or staff member is named in
this kind of complaint. It doesn't mean it's going to go anywhere. Whoever
it is could withdraw the charge at any time."

"How I am I supposed to defend myself if I don't even know who made the
accusation? The letter doesn't say."

He had me there. The thing about dealing with sexual harassment at Steelman
was that the deck was stacked. Until the alleged victim chose to so there
was no obligation to inform the accused who the accuser was. There would be
a hearing where a "Sexual Harassment Advisor," a designated member of the
faculty or staff, would present the case. I had heard of a past case where
a professor hadn't found out who had accused him until he walked into the
hearing and saw the student sitting there. It was like an inquisition, and
was loaded with potential to ruin a professional career, especially of a
young faculty member like Drew.

Steelman was a small campus, though. It didn't take me long to find out who
had pointed the finger. About a week later I was sitting in the cafeteria
by myself, having a late lunch. Suddenly I became alert. Someone in a group
of students at a table nearby had mentioned Drew's name.

"You really think Ohlen did it?"

"He's such an arrogant prick. Sure. I could see him telling some girl he'd
pass her for a blow job."

"Dude, it's better than that. It's a guy. Well, sort of."

"No shit! Who?"

"Nathan Lewis."

"That little faggot?" Raucous laughter. "That's pathetic."

I picked up my tray and left. I didn't want to be around when they started
on Drew.

"Nathan Lewis?" Drew was incredulous when I told him.

"Seems to be the rumor."

"But Glenn, he hardly talks to me. Sits in the back of the room. Never
participates. Never comes in during my office hours. Turns his work in,
more or less on time. Pretty marginal student on the whole, though he's
passing."

"Well," I said, "If you've had no contact with him, he has no case. I don't
understand why he's doing this."

Drew looked thoughtful. "Maybe this has something to do with the notes I've
been getting."

"Notes? What notes?"

He opened his desk drawer and brought out a stack of paper, held together
with a clip. "I've been getting these in my campus mailbox this spring. One
every week or so."

I took them and flipped through them. The lettering on the small, creased
paper squares was laser-printed--the author hadn't wanted to be ID'd, for
obvious reasons.

"Hot bod." "Stud prof." "Nice basket." Despite myself my lip curled
upward. I stopped reading and handed them back.

"Someone has the hots for you, that's for sure. Not guilty. Though it's
obviously a male."

Drew rolled his eyes. "I didn't think it was you. But what if Nathan's
doing this?"

I nodded. "He has a crush on you and you haven't responded. The spurned
lover takes revenge."

"Makes sense, doesn't it? Only what do we do about it?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"We don't have any proof Nathan wrote these. Your best hope is to wait for
the hearing and tell the truth, that you've had little or no contact with
him. They can't possibly find for him. And if the charges aren't upheld
nothing will go on your record."

"That doesn't mean people won't find out they were made," Drew said, in a
gloomy tone. "Obviously word has already gotten around."

"It sucks, I know. But the best way is to ignore them."

"Easier said than done."

"I'll go to Jon and ask him when he's going to convene the hearing. The
sooner we get this behind us the better."

Drew sighed. "This whole thing has been such a distraction. I haven't been
able to get any of my own work done lately. Of course," he brightened a
bit, "There have been other distractions as well..."

I chuckled, glad to break the somber mood. "Now I'm guilty as charged."

"The poor guy. Nathan, I mean. I hope he gets some help, and soon."

Thinking back I shake my head at how naive we were. Now that we knew who it
was things didn't seem so bad, especially since the accusation was
ridiculous. A few weeks, some bureaucratic hassle and life would revert to
normal.

Instead, it got worse. Much worse.

On Monday morning a couple of weeks later I walked into the classroom
building to teach my nine o'clock. As I approached my office I saw a couple
of students I didn't recognize standing in front of it, pointing to
something on my door. They saw me coming and turned tail, practically
running down the hall. This was weird--Steelman students by and large were
a friendly bunch.

A moment later I saw why they hadn't wanted to talk to me.

At least whoever did it hadn't defaced the door itself. They had attached
the two squares of hot pink posterboard with duct tape. The block lettering
on both was printed with indelible black marker. "FAG" said one. "OHLEN'S
BITCH" read the other.

My knees felt rubbery and there was a roaring in my ears. As if in a dream
I pulled at the hateful signs until they tore away from the wood. I wanted
to fling them as far as I could, but instead I held them as I fumbled for
my keys with a trembling hand. I'd need them as evidence.

Once I got inside and shut the door I dropped the signs behind my desk, out
of sight, then stood, clutching at the wood as I took deep breaths, trying
to calm down.

Someone obviously had figured out what was going on between Drew and
me. And didn't approve. It had to be a student. But who?

At that moment there was a knock at my door. When I opened it there stood
Drew. One look at his wide eyes and pale face and I knew what had happened.

"What did yours say?" I asked him.

"How did you know?" Drew said, his voice tight with anger. Silently I
fished out the signs and showed them to him.

Drew snorted as he looked at them, but I could tell he was shaken. "Well,"
he said, "I had two myself. Orange. One said "QUEER BOY" and the other said
"SUCKS GAY GLENN'S DICK." He shrugged. "Maybe they were supposed to form
one complete sentence." His jaw set. "Nathan Lewis did this."

I wasn't so sure. "You really think so? He's accused you of sexual
harassment. He's got to convince everyone's he sweet and
innocent. Targeting you and me wouldn't be the smartest thing for him to do
right now."

"Who else could it be?"

I shook my head. "I've never had any contact with Nathan Lewis. I've
certainly never told him about my private life. There's no way he could
have found out about us."

Something in Drew's expression caught my eye. "What? What's wrong?"

He sat down on the battered couch in my office, not looking at me.

"Glenn, Nathan knows about us."

"How?"

"I--I guess I told him."

"You what?" It took a moment to comprehend what Drew had just said. Anger
and disbelief hit me all at once. "I thought you said you'd never had any
contact with him."

Drew looked off into space as he started to speak.

"It was a couple of weeks ago. Lately Nathan's been struggling. Been absent
a lot. Failed the last essay exam I gave."

"If I were harassing a professor with false accusations I'd feel bad about
it too."

"Then out of the blue I get an e-mail from him. Wanted to see me about the
test. I said sure--what else could I do?

"He comes to my office, sits down and starts talking. Says he'd been under
a lot of stress about his personal life, et cetera. I let him rattle on. I
thought maybe he was going to ask me for a makeup, or to give him an "A",
in exchange for dropping the sexual harassment charge.

"But then he looked at me and said, `I'm gay. And I'm in love with you.'"

Despite myself I was becoming engrossed in Drew's story. "My god. So he did
write those notes."

Drew nodded. "Nothing like that ever happened to me before. I didn't know
what to do. Then he started to cry. I don't think he was faking it,
Glenn. He was really upset. I went over to him. Before I knew it his arms
were around me. He was holding on to me like a drowning man. I hugged him
back, I admit it. But I swear to you, nothing else happened."

"But I don't understand. How did he find out about us?"

Drew shifted uncomfortably, raising his hands in a tense gesture. "Well--I
told him that I knew what he was going through, because I was gay too. But
that didn't mean I was in love with him or that we could ever have a
relationship.

"He looked at me and said, you have someone already, don't you? I didn't
see any reason not to tell him the truth so I said yes. He didn't miss a
beat, he said, it's Dr. Reynolds, isn't it? I was so shocked, I couldn't
say anything. He must have figured out he was right from my reaction."

"Jesus." This was getting worse and worse. "How did he know?"

Drew went on as if he hadn't heard. "I tried to change the subject, told
him he needed to talk to Counseling Services, maybe join the gay students'
organization here on campus. He said he couldn't do that, his father would
find out. Figures that he's not out to Elden.

He looked stricken. "I thought he was all right with everything when he
left. I really thought I had convinced him to stop all this nonsense. Now
this. I can't believe it."

He struck himself on the forehead. "What the fuck are we going to do,
Glenn? How can we show our faces around here after what's happened?"

I spoke with a confidence I didn't really feel. "The more normal we act the
sooner people are going to forget this. Not that many people saw the signs
anyway."

Drew refused to be encouraged. "It'll be all around campus by lunch time."

"So what? We haven't done anything wrong. Being gay isn't illegal in Texas
anymore."

"Easy for you to say. You're tenured. You'll still have a job after this
year."

I gripped his shoulder. "And so will you. I'm going to talk to Jon as soon
as I can get in his office today. Better he hear it from us first. Oh,
god." I had looked at my desk clock. "I can't believe I have to teach now."

It was the last thing in the world I felt like doing at that moment. Still,
I gathered my materials and forced myself down the hall to the
classroom. Teaching that morning turned out to be okay, though I had my
moments. I was sure every whispering pair of students in the back of the
room was talking about how the gay professor just got outed. I imagined
sympathy in the eyes of others who I knew liked me.

Bad news travels fast. My heart sank when I entered the Provost's office
that afternoon and saw the grave expression on Jon's face.

"All I can say, Jon, is that we've done nothing to warrant this kind of
treatment."

"Hate speech and harassment have no place on this campus, I agree." Jon
shook his head. "Still, I think Drew was unwise to volunteer so much
personal information to a student. Or touch him in a manner that suggested
any sort of physical attraction, especially when the student had already
accused him of harassment."

"He was only trying to help." My fist pounded the arm of the chair I was
sitting in. "What kind of world is it when we can't even comfort a student
in distress?"

He raised his brow. "In this case it seems to have had the opposite
effect." Jon seemed to realize how harsh his words sounded. He reached
across the conference table and touched my arm. "I know this is
frustrating, Glenn. But other than ask the campus police to investigate
there's not much we can do in the short term.

"At the hearing I'm convening about Drew's sexual harassment case we can
ask Nathan about this other thing. If it turns out he put up those signs,
there are sanctions against that kind of behavior, even if his own charges
are upheld. That's the best we can do for now."

More bad news was in store when I got back to my office. Marcia Hannon was
waiting to see me.

"I heard about what happened to you all," she said. "That sucks. I can't
believe any of our students would do a thing like that."

"Well, one--or maybe more than one--did."

"Listen, Glenn, I hate to bring this up, but first-year faculty evaluations
are due soon. I'm going to have to mention this sexual harassment thing."

I was stunned. "How did you know about that?"

Marcia sighed. "I know I'm not supposed to know. Jon Evans probably figured
since I'm doing Drew's evaluation, I needed all the information."

"He told you?"

She nodded. "It does speak to Drew's effectiveness as a teacher."

"I fucking can't believe it." Had the whole world turned against us?

"Glenn, forgive me, but you might not be seeing this with a totally
objective eye."

I began to get mad. "Marcia, just because I'm fucking Drew doesn't mean I
can't see when someone's about to get smeared."

She was offended. "I'm not going to smear him. And there's no need to be
crude about it."

"Have the charges against him been proven?"

"Well, no."

"When the Provost has the hearing and Drew's found guilty of sexual
harassment, then you can put that in his eval. IF he's found guilty."

"But what if it doesn't take place until after the evaluation's due?"

I had to end this before I lost my temper. "Jon Evans, of all people,
should understand why an evaluation might be late in a situation like
this. Marsh, I can't stop you from writing anything you want, but promise
me--as a friend--you'll hold off until I've talked to him. Please."

She looked unconvinced, but said, "Okay."

Fifteen minutes later I was in my car, headed out of campus. I had to get
out of what had become an alien and hostile place. I was furious at Jon,
and I didn't even want to see Drew. Had I ruined my career--and his--for
nothing more than a workplace fling? Voices were starting to whisper in my
head and I didn't like it.

I drove southward toward the city. It was a gorgeous spring day, an ironic
contrast to the turmoil I was feeling inside. I don't recall consciously
deciding where to go, but in a short while I found myself pulling into the
dirt parking lot of a small city park. It was a greenbelt surrounding a
creek that somehow still ran mostly clear and sparkling through what had
recently been a rural region north of the city.

On this weekday afternoon there were only one or two cars in the parking
lot. Though I'd come here to be by myself, I still felt an unexplainable
disappointment. Still, I got out and headed up the trail running alongside
the creek.

It was a long walk that soon became taxing, as the woods thickened and the
smooth dirt path narrowed and clambered over rocky ridges that began to
rise from the ground. After a while I was puffing with exertion. Sweat
dripped down my brow and soaked the back of my dress shirt. Still, the
physical effort felt good, and my mood began to lift.

I was so engrossed in keeping my footing on the bumpy trail I didn't notice
the man coming toward me until I almost ran into him.

"Oh, sorry," I said, startled.

"No problem," he replied. He was better dressed for the trail than I was,
in faded jeans, work boots and a battered T-shirt. His blue eyes were vivid
in his tanned, weather-beaten face, his chin grizzled with gray stubble,
the same color as his untidy hair. He grinned, showing a gap where he had
lost several front teeth. Otherwise he might have been good-looking.

He didn't move to let me pass, and a faint uneasiness rose in me. To cover
it I said a bit too loudly, "Good day for a hike."

He nodded, still with that grin on his face, his eyes not leaving me. I
stepped past him on the narrow trail, brushing against his body, catching a
whiff of his strong, unwashed scent, sweat mingled with stale tobacco and
alcohol.

I began to walk fast, stumbling a bit on the uneven terrain, conscious that
no one else was in sight and hoping the stranger wasn't following me. I'd
gone only a short way when I couldn't stand the suspense and stopped,
forcing myself to turn and look back.

The man was still standing in the same spot. His back was turned, and he
was looking over his shoulder at me. He caught my eye, and his body
shifted.

One rough hand went to the crotch of his jeans.

I stood as if rooted to the ground, my pulse pounding in my ears. In a
flash I knew why I had come to this place.

The man's hand moved, caressing himself. He nodded, flashing his
gap-toothed grin again.

My feet moved of their own accord, back down the path toward him. As I
approached he left the path and walked into the woods, away from the creek.

When I got to the spot where he had disappeared there was a faint side
trail winding between the trees, through the tangled undergrowth. I saw his
retreating form some distance away. Without conscious thought I struck out
after him. My breathing was fast and shallow, my mouth dry, my cock hard
and painful against the front of my pants.

By a tall tree he turned, facing me, and dropped to his knees. His mouth
opened. His tongue shot out in a lewd, unmistakable signal.

I reached him, panting. His hand stroked my bulge.

"Want some head?"

I nodded, fumbling with my zipper. My hands were shaking and it took a
minute, but at last I stood, exposed in the woods, totally at this
stranger's mercy. What if he were a psycho? I saw the gleaming lust in his
eyes and discarded the thought.

"Nice cock, man."

Strong hands grabbed my ass. Hot, wet, silky pleasure engulfed my
erection. I gasped, turning my unseeing eyes up to the sky. I grabbed his
shoulders, running a hand through his greasy hair.

The stranger sucked me with abandon, sliding back and forth on my rod, spit
dripping out of the corners of his mouth and onto the dirt beneath in long,
viscous strings. The obscene slurping noises he was making turned me on
even further. I felt the climax rise up in me and pulled back, not wanting
to end it yet.

"What's the matter, buddy?" he asked.

"Uh...I don't want to cum in your mouth."

He shook his head, his missing front teeth making his grin maniacal. "You
got to. Love to swallow. Let me taste it."

A groan escaped me as he flicked his tongue rapidly over the sensitive
head. He chuckled before engulfing me again down to the root, burying his
nose in my pubes. There was no holding back. My hips began to thrust of
their own accord and in a few seconds my aching balls emptied, delivering
blasts of hot liquid through my exploding organ into his eager mouth. I
heard my cocksucker choking and gulping. My knees buckled and my body
jackknifed as I fought to keep from collapsing, ragged gasps emerging from
my mouth, almost choking myself trying to keep quiet.

Finally I regained control. My cock was painful in the aftermath of orgasm
and the feel of the stranger's mouth was unbearable. Panting, I pulled out,
still dribbling. A shudder went through me as his tongue claimed one of the
drops.

The man stroked my leg. "Thanks, buddy," he said, his voice hoarse, his
eyes watery. "Tasted great."

Guilt and panic struck at the same time. What the hell was I doing out
here? I stuffed myself back in and zipped up as fast as I could, trying not
to look at the stains on my pants.

"Got to go," I said to the unknown man, then turned tail and ran back down
the trail, thinking only of getting away. I stumbled over the rocks, almost
falling a couple of times, but didn't stop until I was back in my
car. Sweat poured off of me as I backed up and headed onto the paved road
that led out of the park.

Back home I stripped, threw my clothes in the wash and jumped in the
shower, trying to wash away all trace of what I'd done. It wasn't until
gallons of hot water and soap had coursed over my body that I began to feel
better. The tight knot that had been in my stomach all day gradually
disappeared and numbness and exhaustion took its place.

I got out, dried myself, switched off the phone in my bedroom and got under
the covers.

Much later I awoke. It took me a moment in my groggy state to realize what
I'd heard. Far away there was a heavy thudding. Someone was pounding on my
front door.

"Glenn? Are you in there?" It was Drew's voice.

My eyes went to the bedside clock, glowing in the now dark room. It was
quarter to eight. I'd slept for nearly four hours.

"Oh, shit." I struggled out of bed, my limbs still leaden with fatigue, my
head pounding. I heard Drew hit the wood again and called, "Coming!" as I
finally found a pair of boxers.

"Jesus Christ," Drew said. No sooner had I got the door open than he had
swarmed in and gathered me into his arms. "Where the hell have you been? I
was so worried."

"Asleep."

"I waited in your office for ages. Thought you had just stepped out."

"In my office?" How had he gotten in?

"Yeah." His eyes searched my face. "Your door was wide open when I came by
around three."

I shook my head. "I must have forgotten to shut it. Guess I was kind of out
of it."

"After I'd waited half an hour I got worried. No one had seen you since
lunch. Your car wasn't in the parking lot, and I couldn't get you on the
phone."

"Sorry. I just needed to get away."

"I don't blame you. It's been an awful day, hasn't it?" Drew said, as he
walked me to the living room couch.

"You don't know the half of it." Guilt was stirring in me. "I tried to do
some damage control, but it's like shoveling quicksand."

"You know, the students were great. A couple of them even came up after my
afternoon seminar and said what a rotten thing they thought had happened to
me." His face darkened. "I hope I can control myself when I see that
asshole tomorrow in World History. Fuck this nurturing shit. I'd like to
punch his smug little face in."

"Don't let on that you're upset. Besides, we still don't know for sure he
had anything to do with this."

"I suppose you're right. Anyway, I wouldn't give the bastard the
satisfaction." Drew got up from the couch. "You must be hungry. What did
you do this afternoon? Not sleep for eight hours, I hope."

"I--" The lie I was about to utter stuck in my throat. "I did a fucking
dumb thing."

Drew smiled. "Naw--not you. What?"

There was no good way to say it so I didn't even try. When I finished my
two-sentence report there was silence. I stared at the floor.

"Well," Drew said.

Words came from me in a rush. "Back when I first moved here, after I'd
gotten kicked out of that school in Oklahoma, I was so lost. I went
cruising in that park all the time. It was a way to numb the pain,
Drew--like drinking or dope. Today I caved in under the pressure. Fell off
the wagon. It's the only way I can explain it." Desperation made my voice
harsh. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

He said nothing.

"Don't you believe me?"

He shrugged. "Yeah."

Then he walked away from me, toward the door. In that instant I felt the
chill of despair. I had lost him again, and had only myself to blame.

"Drew!"

He turned, his eyes somber. "I've have to think about this a
while. Alone. I'll see you around school, okay?"

The thud of the front door closing was like a falling guillotine.

TO BE CONTINUED