Dr. Phillip Marcus listened to the boy with freckles drone on about his paper on the industrial revolution. Phillip puffed on his pipe and tried to seem interested. But the boy was a "C" student, who worked hard and did his papers on time, was not too bright. Phillip could imagine what the boy would write about the industrial revolution and he already knew it would be a "C" paper.
The boy finally finished his drawn-out summary of the paper. Phillip told him he was satisfied with what he was doing. And as the boy got up to leave, Phillip told him to ask the next student to come in.
He puffed his pipe and leaned back in his swivel-chair and thought about the cluttered office. The bookcases were crammed and there were piles of books on the floor, and papers were stuffed in every corner, and spilled from the battered old filing cabinet. He asked himself if he was becoming as stuffy at thirty-two as his wife had implied.
There was a soft knock on the door.
Phillip settled his feet on the floor. He sighed again and put his pipe in the ashtray. The effect of the drinks at lunch had worn off now, and he was suddenly-tired. He could easily go to sleep listening to one of these students rattle on endlessly.
"Come in," he called, and steeled himself for another dull half-hour.
Jamie Williams walked in demurely, and stood holding her books in front of her. She smiled, and closed the door.
"Sit down, Miss Williams," Phillip said. He watched her walk slowly over to the straight-back chair beside his desk. Her tight green skirt and sweater accentuated her perfect body, and he remembered how incredible that body looked in a bathing suit during the Miss University contest last year.
She sat down on the edge of the chair, and smiled again, looking directly at him. He swallowed, and wondered if she had noticed his open stare.
"How are you this afternoon, Miss Williams?" he asked, picking up his pipe.
"I'm fine, Dr. Marcus," she said. She settled back in the chair, and put the books on her lap. She crossed her legs, and her skirt slipped a couple of inches above her knees. She smoothed the skirt with her hand, but did not pull it down.
Phillip glanced at her thigh. He wondered how her legs could have such a golden tone this time of year. He pulled his eyes away, and fussed with his pipe a minute.
"How are you coming with your paper, Miss Williams?" he asked.
"I guess I'm doing alright," she said. "But there are a couple of things I wanted to talk to you about."
"Let's see," Phillip said. "You're writing on women's suffrage, is that right? Now, lets see if I can help you."
Jamie out-lined her paper, talking slowly and softly. Phillip listened and nodded and answered her questions. But he could not keep his eyes from her legs. And when she shifted slightly, and her skirt slipped even higher, she caught him staring, and smiled sweetly. She did not pull the skirt down.
Phillip's throat was dry, and he swallowed. He forced himself to keep his eyes off Jamie, but as she talked primly about women's voting drives and marches, and constitutional amendments, he thought again of her body in that brief bathing suit. What would it be like to have that body? How would those slim, golden thighs feel?
He leaned over and put down his pipe. Careful, he warned himself. Messing with coeds was certain trouble for any professor. Yet, just thinking of her excited him more than all of his wife's imaginative love-making.
She finished her outline, and paused, looking at him. "What do you think, Dr. Marcus?" she asked. She was leaning forward slightly, and Phillip saw the clear outline of her bra.
"It sounds very interesting, Miss Williams," he said, licking his lips.
"It's important to me that you like what I do, Dr. Marcus," she said.
Phillip let himself steal a quick glance at the inside of her thigh. "Why is that?" he asked, and realized his heart was pounding.
"Why, I only decided to major in American History after I had my first class under you," she said. She smiled at him in a way that made him feel warm.
"It's always flattering to a professor to interest a student in his subject so much that she decides to major in it," Phillip said, and knew his words sounded foolish.
"How is your project coming, Dr. Marcus?" she asked.
"A little slowly, I'm afraid," he said. "Tracking down the emancipated female is not as easy as it seems."
"Could I be of any help?" she said. "I mean, perhaps some of the material I've uncovered for my paper could be of help."
"That's very kind of you, Miss Williams," he said. He saw that she had shifted her legs once more, and spread them slightly. He thought how warm and smooth and soft her intimate thighs would feel.
Christ, he had to get hold of himself, he thought. He picked his pipe up, and leaned back in his chair. "We'll see how much help it can be, when you finish it," he said. "Now I better get on to someone else. I've enjoyed talking to you so much, we've gone way past the time."
She smiled and stood up. "I always enjoy talking to you, Dr. Marcus," she said. "Don't hesitate to let me know, if I can help you in any way." She turned and walked slowly to the door, and Phillip stared openly at the movement of her rounded buttocks beneath the tight knit skirt. At the door she paused a moment, and looked back at him and smiled. Then she walked out.
Phillip got up and walked to the window. He breathed the fresh air. He had to get this girl off his mind. He could have reached over and run his fingers beneath that skirt, and would have gotten more thrill from playing with Jamie Williams's thigh, than from making love to Ellen. He was in worse shape than he thought.
There was a knock on the door. He turned from the window and sat down again. "Come in," he called.
It was a tall, thin girl, who talked a mile a minute, and never had her work in on time. He sighed, and picked up his pipe.
Phillip drank his bloody Mary in short, nervous sips and glanced around the dimly-lit cocktail lounge. He was glad he did not know any of the other people here. He wanted to be alone, and he needed some time to think about things before he went home to Ellen.
He leaned back in the booth and told himself he could rationalize away the truth of what Ellen kept saying. He had been ignoring her lately. And he had been throwing himself into his teaching and research to an incredible degree.
He finished his drink and ordered another one. But he knew that if he didn't find an outlet in his work, there was no telling what might happen. Because although he still loved Ellen after their seven years of marriage, he simply could not get really interested in her.
All he was surrounded by were lovely, young, exciting girls, and Ellen knew this, and resented it. He had never laid a hand on a coed. And with his promotion to full professorship pending, to do so would be stupid. But somehow, being around girls like Jamie Williams, so fresh and innocent and beautiful fired him and drained him, and there was nothing left for Ellen.
Phillip sipped his drink and looked around and he realized the lounge was filling up. People were talking loudly and laughing, and in the next booth, a young couple was alternately giggling and kissing.
He suddenly felt uncomfortable among these happy people. He gulped the drink down, and threw some coins onto the table and stood up.
As he walked out of the lounge, he thought how utterly bored he was. His project on the emancipated woman was dragging and he hated going home, and dreaded the routine of faculty teas and staff meetings to which he was subjected.
The spring night was soft and crisp, and Phillip took a couple of deep breaths of the stimulating air, then climbed into his car and drove off. But he drove slowly, dreading the thought of getting home to dinner and a probable argument with Ellen, and a strained night.
He turned a corner and drove slower, and told himself he had to make more of an effort to keep Ellen happy, and that meant primarily in bed. He could not take a chance on any serious trouble, until his status as full professor was approved. A scandal in his marriage would mean sure, quick death to his hopes for promotion.
So he would endure sure, slow death. But at least he was keeping up with his classes and at least he had not been unfaithful to Ellen. He would never touch the coeds, of course. But enough faculty wives had let him know they were interested if he ever wanted a little fun on the side.
Phillip pulled up in front of his house. He got out of the car and walked slowly up the twisting, flagstone path to his house, and told himself that he was far too ambitious and shrewd to jeopardize things until he was promoted.
But then, well, somehow he would resolve things with Ellen. And if that meant separation, or a divorce, he would do it. And then he would cash in on all the unaccepted offers that were just waiting along faculty row.
Phillip walked in and saw Ellen lying on the couch, with her eyes closed. There was a pitcher of martinis on the coffee table, and he walked over and shook his head. Her heavy drinking lately was getting to be a menace, and he knew other people on the faculty were beginning to notice it.
He leaned down and pecked at her cheek. "Ellen, I'm home," he said softly. But she only tossed around and muttered something in her sleep, then turned away from him.
Phillip poured what was left of the martinis into the glass, and took a sip. He stared down at Ellen's willowy body, the slim legs and the flare of the hips and the narrow waist. She was still a beautiful woman, he told himself. And her green eyes still danced wickedly and her breasts were still firm and proud. Yet she simply could not excite him in bed any longer, despite the fact that she was wild and imaginative.
Phillip finished the martini, and thought of trying again to wake her. But he turned and walked from the room and down the hall to his den. He sank down into the chair at his desk, and told himself to buy every minute he could with Ellen, and wait for his promotion to come through.
Pamper her, he told himself, and lie to her, and when he was a full professor, and did not have to worry so much about scandal and the whispers of the faculty wives, then he would resolve his problems with her.
He had just taken out his pipe, and started filling it, when the phone rang. He snatched the receiver up on the first ring, fearful that Ellen might wake up.
"Dr. Marcus?" a soft, silky voice asked.
"Yes, this is Dr. Marcus," he said.
"Oh, this is Jamie Williams," the voice said, and Phillip leaned forward. "I just hate to disturb you at home, but I'm at the library, and I wanted to know if I can use contemporary periodical material in my paper."
"I would prefer that you didn't," he said, and thought of her fresh, provocative young body, and remembered the golden tone of her thighs this afternoon.
"Oh, then I'm glad I called before I did lots of work for nothing," she said. "I felt so confident this afternoon. I always do when I talk to you. And I want to do such a good job for you. But then, I get back to the library, and somehow it doesn't seem so easy."
"I'm sure you'll do a fine job," he said. "You're one of my best students."
"Oh, am I?" she asked, and the happiness in her voice was evident. "Everyone thinks I'm just a pretty, addle-brained, typical coed, Dr. Marcus. But since I started with you, well, I want to do a good job. I want you to teach me so much, Dr. Marcus. If you know what I mean."
Phillip went warm just thinking of what he could teach her, and for a moment, he let himself imagine her words had double meaning. He thought of her fantastic body and beautiful face. But he had to also remember her obviously naive, almost child-like manner.
"Yes, I'm looking forward to teaching you everything I can," he said. "When a teacher finds a special, responsive student, he wants to take special effort to work with her, and develop her knowledge."
"I want to work with you as much as I can," she said, her voice again silky soft. "And I want you to develop my thirst for what you can teach me. That's why I wanted to help you with your project, so we can work together more."
God, if her words only had the hidden meaning mine have, he told himself. But he smiled and shook his head. He could enjoy the luxury of staring at Miss Williams and fantasizing her. But to even think of any actual involvement with her was suicidal.
"I'm anxious to see your finished paper," he said. "And after that, well, I'll see what help you can be. And by the way, don't forget, there's going to be a test tomorrow in History IV."
"Oh, I haven't forgotten," she said. "I've just been working so hard on this paper, that I've put off studying. I want to write you such a good paper, and now I realize I may do badly on the test."
"I'll let you in on something," he said. "As a reward for working so hard on your paper. But it must be a secret between us, and not get back to any of the other students."
"I promise it will be our secret," she said, anxiously.
Phillip was surprised at the excitement in this pretty conspiracy with her. It was like a tiny intimacy, and in some strange way he did not understand, it seemed nearly a sexual thing.
"Well, Miss Williams," he said. "If I were you, I would forget everything in my studying but the Panic of 1891, the Populist uprising of the late 1890's, and second election of Grover Cleveland."
"Oh, that's wonderful of you," she said. "If you weren't my professor, I'd kiss you."
"Over the phone?" he asked, and realized his heart was pounding.
"I just kissed the receiver," she said. "And Dr. Marcus, I'm going to give you absolutely the best paper you've ever had. I'll let you go now. And thank you so much. If all my profs were like you, I think I'd try to make straight A's."
"Good night, Miss Williams," he said, trying to retain some trace of detachment and authority in his voice, despite his rising excitement.
Phillip put the phone down, and leaned over and took a bottle of scotch from the small bar on the bottom shelf of the bookcase. He took a glass, and poured it a quarter full of whiskey.
Then he settled back and sipped the whiskey and allowed himself to think of Jamie Williams and her rushing, naive, enthusiasm, and her lush, young body.
CHAPTER TWO
Phillip opened his eyes, and shielded them quickly with his arm. Sunlight poured through the blinds in streaks. He yawned as he raised himself up on one elbow and glanced down at Ellen.
Then he leaned over and picked up a pen and made a couple of notes in the pad on the table. He heard Ellen stirring and looked around at her. She was rubbing her eyes. He leaned down and kissed her forehead gently.
"What time is it, Phillip?" she asked.
"A little after seven," he said.
"I didn't hear the alarm," she said, raising up on her arm. She yawned and put her hand over her mouth.
"I strangled it before it got started good," he said. "Thought I'd let you sleep a while longer."
"Um, that was nice, Phillip," she said. "But I thought you had an eight o'clock class today."
"Nine today," he said. He watched her stretch and throw back the covers. He looked down the length of her willowy body. Ellen had not put on a pound in the seven years they had been married.
She relaxed and looked over at him. She smiled deeply, her big, brown eyes sparkling. She put her hand on his shoulder and kissed his lips.
"I had a great idea for the project," he said, and rubbed his fingers absently through her chestnut hair. "Made a couple of notes just as you woke up."
He felt her toes edging up his leg. She put her arm across him and rubbed her fingers along the top rim of his pajamas, tickling his stomach slightly. Then he felt her warm breath on his cheek. Her tongue flicked wetly at his ear.
Phillip took Ellen's arm and pulled her onto him, and kissed her lips. She pressed her breasts against his chest, and pushed her tongue past his lips and rubbed it on the roof of his mouth.
She moved her leg between his thighs, and pressed the kiss harder. He ran his hand up and down her back, as he asked himself if he should change lectures for the nine o'clock class. After the test, he wanted to discuss the emancipation of women, and see if the class had any comments on his ideas. And as he thought of the class, he pictured Jamie Williams sitting in the front row, with her legs crossed and her skirt pulled above her knees.
Ellen suddenly pulled from his lips. "Oh, Phillip you're thinking about that damn paper again.
"No, Ellen," he said. "Don't be ridiculous." He ran his hands down quickly and cupped her perfectly-rounded buttocks and squeezed.
"You don't have to fake enthusiasm," she said bitterly. "Finish making your damn notes, and I'll fix breakfast." She rolled away from him.
"Ellen, please, let's not have this fight again," Phil-hp said. He put his hand on her shoulder but she shrugged away from it. "I get sick and tired of you throwing my teaching up to me, and my students," he added.
Ellen's eyes narrowed. "I'm your wife, Phillip. Surely you can find as much enthusiasm for me as for your teaching and your papers. And especially for your students."
"Christ, Ellen," Phillip said. He lay back and closed his eyes an instant. "I knew you would get back to this. Back to the coeds. You know, if you accuse a man of being unfaithful long enough, he reaches the point where he has nothing to lose by doing the very things he's being accused of."
"I'm not accusing you of anything," Ellen said. "And I never have. But you are surrounded by lovely and young provocative girls every day, and then you seem not to have any interest in making love to me. And well, what am I supposed to think?"
Phillip caught her arms and pulled her on top of him. He squeezed a breast, rubbing the nipple in his fingers. Ellen straddled him, moving back and forth and ground her breast hard against his hand. They kissed and he darted his tongue against hers, as he ran his free hand down and caressed the buttocks. He rolled her over, but she stopped him.
"Let me stay this way," she said, smiling wickedly down at him with a twinkle in her eyes. "I'll make you forget all those silly little girls you see every day."
Phillip licked his lips as he stared into her brown eyes. He pinched her buttocks, and pulled her breasts down against his chest, and felt her hard, pointed nipples.
As they kissed, she worked his pajamas down. Then she darted her head down suddenly and kissed him on the chest, and tugged his pa jama bottoms off.
He gasped as she trailed her fingers up the inside of his thigh. He grasped her buttocks roughly and squeezed. She rubbed her nipple-hard breasts on his chest, and kissed him with wet, surging lips. Her hands were everywhere, on his neck, in his hair, then teasing and pinching his ears.
She was moving her hands down along his sides now, and he pumped at her buttocks and pushed her to him. But his momentary excitement was already fading.
Desperately, he tried to seem aroused and he thrashed his body, and pawed at her. For a long instant she stopped, and stared down at him, with her face set and her lips bit together tightly.
"This is the last time, Phillip," she said. Then she was working with him, slowly and steadily, and with an obviously mechanical movement. Her wild aggressive attitude of a few minutes ago was gone.
He closed his eyes, and tried to lose himself in the pleasure of her body and its movements. She bit the tip of his tongue, and the gentle pain blended into a dazzling long moment of pleasure, which ended in a blinding sensation.
Then he lay still, with Ellen still wrapped around him. He felt the rigidity of her body, and the tenseness that seemed to flow from her veins to his.
When she bolted off him and half ran into the bathroom, he told himself he should go after her. But he did not. He lit a cigarette, and as he realized how little Ellen's aggressive loving had satisfied him, he sank back onto the pillow, and fantasized the sleek, young, lovely girls in the History IV class he would be teaching soon.
Phillip drove slowly from the campus and idly watched clusters of students pour from the classrooms. He turned down Sorority Row, a street lined with huge old homes set behind wide, rolling lawns. Phillip saw small buds and tiny leaves dotting the bushes in front of the houses, and the hulking oak trees that stood along the street had buds on then-long, stark limbs.
He turned on the radio and hummed with the soft music. And as he lit a cigarette, he saw Jamie Williams standing at the next corner. His blood raced as she waved at him. He waved back. As he drove past, he watched her in the rear-view mirror. He shook his head, and as always when he saw Jamie, he warned himself he was out of his mind to think of her. Yet he immediately remembered the way she had crossed and uncrossed her legs in his class this morning. And the way her tight skirt had been moved far above her knees as she sat and stared at him and sucked on the end of her pen.
Phillip drove another block, then turned at the corner of his street. He pulled a final drag from the cigarette and mashed it out. The ashtray smelled of stale cigarettes, and he reminded himself to empty it.
He drove slowly to his house, watching the solidly-filled blocks bleed off, until there were only two or three houses in each block. He turned into his driveway, and parked behind Ellen's Volkswagen.
He hesitated as he thought of the scene with Ellen in bed earlier in the day. But then he smelled roast beef. It reminded him how hungry he was, and he told himself not to worry, that somehow, everything would work out.
He took the steps two at a time, and walked quickly down the hall and into the kitchen. Ellen was taking the roast from the oven. He went over and kissed her on the back of the neck. He inhaled the beef-smell, and licked his lips.
"I thought I was only getting tunafish salad for lunch," he said.
She put the roast on the table. "After three classes, you need something more than tuna," she said.
She took the potato salad from the refrigerator and put it on the table. She opened a loaf of rye bread, then got out the mustard, and sliced two tomatoes. Then she sat down opposite him.
He cut two thick pieces of roast, and put them on bread. He licked the juice from his fingers. He added mustard and tomatoes to the sandwich, and took a huge bite. It was delicious. He finished it in a few bites, and had another. He ate some potato salad. It was fixed with onions and green peppers, the way he liked it.
He settled back in his chair. "That was perfect, darling," he said. "By the way, I've decided to start the paper on the emancipation of women with the Greeks. Some sort of comparison between Athens and Sparta. One of the girls in history IV this morning suggested it, and I think it's a pretty damn good idea."
Ellen did not say anything. And he realized she had not eaten. She sat and stared absently at him. There was a long silence.
Then she leaned forward. "I swear, Phillip," she said. "If you mention that damn project or your students again, I'll throw this plate of potato salad at you."
Oh hell, Phillip said to himself. He got up and went around to her, and stood behind her chair and rubbed her shoulders. She held her body rigid, and did not look up.
"I'm sorry Ellen," Phillip said. "I know I get involved in my teaching too deeply, and it's a selfish thing to do. It won't happen again."
Ellen bent away from his hands, and stood up. She stalked to the window, and looked out. "But it will happen again," she said, and he was startled at the edge in her voice. "It happens every day and I'm sick of it. I'm not married to a man. I'm married to a history course. Do you realize what you're doing to me? To our marriage?"
He walked slowly to her, and told himself to be careful. But she had wounded his ego. "That wasn't a history course you made love to this morning," he snapped.
Ellen narrowed her eyes as she took a step toward him. "Darling, do you realize what an utter bore you've become in bed?" she asked.
"Now listen Ellen," he said.
She took another step. "No, Phillip, you listen to me," she said. "When we were first married you were an incredible lover, and I could not have been happier. But the past couple of years, you seem to have forgotten that I exist."
"Wait a minute," he said, trying to interrupt her before she said something that cut too deeply, or that goaded him into saying something rash.
"I'm not one of those wives who just lies there while her husband makes love," Ellen said. "I'm willing to do anything to make us enjoy sex. But lately, it's obvious you have something else on your mind. It was obvious this morning, and that was the final straw."
"All right, dammit," he said. "If that's your only complaint, I think I'm still capable of doing my duty."
"I've decided to visit my Aunt Ruth in Chicago for a while," Ellen said. "I've been thinking about it, and this morning I made up my mind."
"Ellen you can't do that," Phillip said. "Why haven't you let me know how upset you are?" His mind raced desperately for the right thing to say, and he shuddered at the blow to his promotion if Ellen left him.
"I've tried to talk to you a dozen times, Phillip," Ellen said. "You've either shrugged it off, or you've lapsed into the precious research. And your oh-so-important students. Things are no good like this. We both need time to think."
"Your going away like this is out of the question," he said. He put his hand on her waist and drew her to him. She held her body ramrod straight as he pressed against her. Then she pulled back and tore his hands from her waist.
"No, Phillip, continuing our marriage like this is the only thing that's out of the question," she said.
"Look, I've got a class," he said, thankful for any excuse to get away. "I'll come right back after class, and we'll talk then. I don't want to lose you, Ellen. Even for a short time."
"You mean you don't want to jeopardize your promotion to full professor," she said. "And our separation would be the death-blow."
Again Phillip put his hand on Ellen's waist, he pulled her rigid body against him, and kissed her fiercely. She squirmed from his hands and tore her lips from his mouth.
"It's a little late to fake passion again," she said. "Go on to your damn class."
"Will you please just wait until this afternoon, so we can have a decent talk?" he asked. "Please Ellen. I love you, and I'm willing to do whatever is necessary to save our marriage."
"I wish I could believe that, Phillip," she said. "All right, I'll at least wait until we talk. But I'm telling you now that if things don't change, I'm leaving, Phillip. I'll leave so quickly, it will stun you."
"We'll work everything out," he said, and kissed her cheek. "Now I've got to go, but I'll hurry right back."
He turned and walked quickly from the room, his mind filled with desperate, racing thoughts. But he picked up his briefcase and left the house, and told himself that somehow he would satisfy her, and keep her from leaving, until after his promotion.
CHAPTER THREE
Phillip droned on about the Spanish-American War, and knew his students were as bored with his dry recitation of facts as he was in giving them. He leaned back in his chair and thought for a minute about the lively, witty, informative lectures he had a reputation for.
But he chanted about the sinking of the Maine, and stood up and knew that if he did not have a captive audience, most of the students would walk out on him.
He continued to talk, and walked slowly to the window and stared out at the small buds on the limbs of the trees. Then he turned back to his class, and paused.
"Yes, Miss Charleton?" he asked, as he glanced at the raised hand in the back of the room.
"I have a question," the girl said, and Phillip stared at her a moment, at the lovely, pale face framed by black hair and lit by dancing, black eyes, and down over the full, surging body beneath a tight, red sweater and skirt.
"Of course, Miss Charleton," he said, and looked away and was amazed at how aroused he was just glancing at the lovely young coed.
She asked about the part of American newspapers in pushing the War, and Phillip answered her fully and patiently, throwing in a couple of jokes which made the class laugh. And she sat beaming, her tight skirt riding high on her slim, white thighs, and smiled and cocked her head at him.
Phillip resumed his lecture, and looked from one ravishing coed to another, and he swallowed and felt warm, and told himself he was thankful Jamie Williams was not in this class.
The bell rang and he sighed, and assigned two chapters of reading, then watched the class ramble out. Again, he stared at the coeds, at their fresh smiles and slim, stacked bodies, and Miss Charleton flashed him a glittering smile, then turned and swayed from the room, her perfect, rounded buttocks moving beneath the tight, red skirt.
Phillip glanced at his watch. He had an hour before his next class, and knew with a nagging desperation that he had to come up with something to pacify Ellen. Yet, he could not stand the idea of sitting alone and brooding.
He grabbed his lecture notes and shoved them into his briefcase, then hurried from the room, and down the long corridor. There was a noisy swirl of students flowing past him in both directions, and he smiled and nodded and stared a bit more than usual at the girls.
What to tell Ellen, he was muttering to himself as he shoved open the door to his office. He shook his head as he sat down in the swivel chair, and dropped the briefcase to the floor.
Promise her anything, he said to himself, remembering a famous ad for perfume. He smiled slightly. Promise her anything, he repeated, half aloud. His situation was so desperate and it was for so short a time, he realized he could promise her anything.
He shoved his chair back and stood up. The office seemed more cluttered and oppressive than usual, and he had the sudden impulse to kick a stack of heavy books across the room.
Damn project, he said to himself. It was giving him as much trouble as Ellen was. Then he smiled broadly. Of course, he told himself. It was so simple. He would suspend work on the damned project, and let Ellen think he was making a tremendous sacrifice to save their marriage.
Sunlight flooded his office as the sun broke from behind a cloud, and Phillip let the sun bathe him as he stood at the window and stared down at the deserted campus. He took a deep breath and started to turn from the window when he saw Jamie Williams walk slowly from the Science building next door.
She was stunning in a rust-colored sweater and skirt, and the sunlight highlighted her incredible chestnut-toned and golden body. Phillip thought she glanced up at his window and his heart started pounding. But he was not certain.
He pivoted and hurried from the office, his heart racing now. He had a boring class of freshmen coming up, and then an ordeal with Ellen, and he told himself as he walked down the corridor that he could allow himself the luxury of a seemingly innocent meeting with Jamie.
As he bolted down the steps, he saw that she was walking slowly down the sidewalk, the bright spring sun seeming to dance on her glowing copper hair and body.
He tried not to appear anxious to catch her, but he could not check the added spring in his steps, and he hoped no one was watching as he moved to her side.
"Miss Williams," he said, forcing a casualness into his voice.
She stopped abruptly and turned and her big, brown eyes sparkled as she smiled. "Oh, Dr. Marcus," she said, the little girl enthusiasm of her voice a strange contrast with the lush body in the copper outfit.
"Heading toward the library?" he asked, and allowed himself a quick glance at the thrust of her breasts against the tight sweater.
The smile deepened, then she shook her head. "I'd like to impress you with my scholarship and say yes," she said. "But actually I'm on my way to the sorority house to get ready for an early date."
"I'll walk as far as the library with you," he said, and he wondered what kind of boy she would date, and what they would do, and he felt a stab of jealousy as he remembered his coming ordeal with Ellen.
"I'd like that," she said, softly.
They walked slowly, and he felt warm, and knew that the warmth came as much from inside as from the sun. He glanced at Jamie from the corner of his eye, and wondered how hot he would get just from touching her perfect, golden body.
"Are you running for Miss University again this year?" he asked.
"No, that kind of thing doesn't interest me this year," she said. "I've grown up a lot since that silly contest."
"You were the obvious winner," he said, and remembered the effect she created in that brief, stunning bathing suit.
"Thank you very much," she said. "I'm flattered that you thought so. But this year, I'm much more anxious to have your flattery for other things."
"Well, you're doing very well in class, and in your other work," he said. "And improving rapidly. I must confess when I saw you last year, I wouldn't have thought a girl as lovely and popular as you would be much of a student."
"It's all because of the teacher," she said. "You opened up a whole new world for me, Dr. Marcus. And before the year is out, I hope there are other new vistas you can introduce me to."
Phillip licked his lips and curled his hands into fists for an instant. He had to stop imagining her words had some double, sexual meaning, he warned himself.
"Are you going steady with someone, or do you play the field?" he asked.
"Oh, I wouldn't go steady with any of the boys I date," she said quickly. "They're nice, but after all, they're just boys. If I were to get really involved with someone, it would be someone older, not just a student."
"I see," he said, swallowed to relieve a suddenly-dry throat.
They reached the steps of the library, and stopped, and Phillip looked down into her wide, brown eyes and felt warm again.
"I'll cut through the library with you," she said, and shifted her weight, so that her blouse and skirt were drawn agonizingly taut across her ripe body.
"Good," he said, and they started up the steps. He felt a little confused and was not sure now what to say. Her interest in him seemed so overt now that he found it difficult not to respond in some more intimate way.
"Oh, I hear you're going to be promoted to full professor," she said abruptly, as they entered the library. "That's just great. And about time, because you're about the best professor on campus."
"It's still premature to talk about the promotion," he said, pleased that she was so excited for him. "And age and seniority have a lot to do with it, in addition to other things."
"Well, I think it's great," she said. "And so does everyone else I know."
Phillip stopped in the corridor, and looked down at Jamie again. "Well, this is where I turn, to go up into the stacks," he said.
"It must be great being able to work in the stacks," she said. "Where it's quiet, and you have your own little cubby-hole and all those books you need right there at your fingertips."
"Can't you get a stack permit?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Not unless I'm taking graduate-level courses," she said. "Or unless I'm working for a member of the staff."
"Have you ever been up in the stacks?" he asked. "Would you like a quick look?" And he felt the same intimacy of conspiracy he had felt about the test, when he talked to her on the phone.
"Oh, that would be great," she said. "And maybe it would be inspiring."
He laughed. "All right, instant inspiration coming up," he said. "Follow me."
He led her down the corridor and around a corner to the elevator. A fat, pimpled boy with glasses sat primly at a desk. He stared at Jamie, but did not say anything.
When they were in the elevator, Jamie burst out laughing. "He was just dying to keep me from going up," she said. "He's in my biology class, and what a Pig!"
"Christ, he does look like a case," Phillip said.
"Can you imagine that someday he might get married and have children?" she asked, and shook her head.
"Frankly, I wouldn't worry too much about his possibilities for marriage and reproduction," Phililp said, and he was pleased that Jamie laughed again.
The elevator stopped and the doors slid open and he led her out into the cavernous, dimly-lit room. Narrow corridors cut between floor-to-ceiling shelves of books, and Jamie looked around and shuddered.
"I'm not so sure I'd find it inspiring, after all," she said. "Frankly, it's spooky, especially when I think of what's guarding the entrance downstairs."
"You're not adopting the correct attitude of the driving, grim scholar," he said, with mock severity.
She glanced up at him quickly, as though not certain if he was joking. Then she broke into a smile.
"I promise to be grim and driving and very serious," she said.
"Then let me show you the cubicles where scholars bury themselves in work," he said.
They walked down a narrow, musty corridor, and Phillip found the intimacy of being alone with Jamie in this way strangely arousing, and he felt they were steadily building a series of intimacies, all of which had definite sexual undertones. And again, he warned himself to be careful.
But when they reached the end of the long passage way, the sunlight streaked through the narrow window-slit, and he turned and stared with open mouth at the way the sun-stream lit Jamie, and accentuated her glowing, youthful beauty in the huge, dingy room.
"You're a very lovely girl, Miss Williams," he said.
Her brown eyes sparkled, but her smile was small and secret, curling on the edges of her lips. She stared up at him a long moment without speaking, and he looked the length of her sunlit body, and licked his lips.
"Dr. Marcus, would it be at all possible for you to get me a stack permit?" she asked. "That way, I could be working near you, when you're here in the stacks doing research on your project."
"I'll get you the permit," he said. "But actually, just today, I thought of suspending work on the project."
"Oh, no!" she said. "Oh, why? From what I know, it's an important paper, and you've done so much work on it."
"It's been going slowly," he said. "And there's a personal reason. My wife insists I'm spending too much time on the damned thing." He was startled at himself for blurting out his troubles with Ellen, yet Jamie looked up with such obvious compassion, he was instantly glad he had drawn her into his personal life.
"But doesn't she realize how important it is?" Jamie asked, with an edge of urgency in her voice. "Isn't there any way I could help and let you continue with it?"
"You have things of your own to do," Phillip said. "Your studies, and your dating and all."
"Since I'm majoring in American history, this would really help me," she said. "And as I said earlier, I'm not really interested much in dating, Dr. Marcus."
"I'll give it serious consideration," he said. "And I appreciate the offer very much. But in any case, I'll get you that stack permit." '
"You're great, Dr. Marcus," she said.
And suddenly, she leaned up on her toes and kissed his cheeks, and her lips were soft and warm and moist. He sucked in his breath and smelled her perfume, and a wave of warmth shot over his body.
"Oh, dear," she said, and stepped back, with her hand over her mouth. "I shouldn't have done that, should I?"
"No, I don't think you should have," he said, and tried to check his rushing breath. And he wondered if she could tell that his cheeks were burning.
"It's so nice of you to get me the permit and I just wanted to show how much I appreciate it," she said. "Please don't hate me, Dr. Marcus. I promise nothing like that will ever happen again."
"It was a nice gesture, Miss Williams," he said. "And as long as it happened in private, and its not repeated, then we can forget it."
"Oh, thank goodness," she said. "Well, look, I've got to run now. But please think about my offer, Dr. Marcus. It would be an honor to work on your project, and I really think it would help my study of American history."
"I'll definitely give it serious consideration," he said.
"Bye, then," she said. She smiled and turned toward the corridor. Then she paused and looked over her shoulder, and the smile now was enigmatic and her eyes twinkled wickedly. "And maybe I'm just a terrible girl, but I'm not really sorry I kissed you, Dr. Marcus."
She ran down the corridor, and Phillip watched the liquid flow of her rounded buttocks in the copper skirt, and he put his hand to his burning cheek, where she had kissed him.
His breath came in rushes and he felt hot and weak, and he leaned back against the wall. Jamie's innocent peck at his cheek had excited him as fully as a deep, passionate kiss with Ellen. And he shut his eyes, and imagined the touch and taste of Jamie's lips over his, and the sensation of her tongue in his mouth.
Christ, he mumbled, and opened his eyes. He swallowed, and shoved himself away from the wall, and started down the narrow walkway on rubbery legs. Christ, yes, he would get Miss Jamie Williams a stack permit, he told himself. And to hell with the consequences.
Then he reached the elevator and pushed the button and glanced at his watch. He was going to be late for his freshman survey course. And he thought that he had to go home and face Ellen, and that what happened with her this afternoon could well be a pivotal point in his promotion.
Well, he muttered, and sobered at once from the feverish excitement that had permeated his body while he was with Jamie. He would go home and tefl Ellen he was giving up the project.
The elevator doors slid open, and he walked in and pushed the button for the ground floor. And as he started down, he remembered his decision in the office to promise Ellen anything that would keep her from creating a scandal along faculty row by leaving him before his appointment came through.
But when the doors slid open again and he walked past the pudgy body at the table, he was only thinking of Jamie, and the burning touch of her soft, damp lips.
CHAPTER FOUR
Phillip stalked into his house, bursting with resentment that Ellen was causing so much trouble. Promise her anything, he told himself scornfully. But sooner or later, she would pay for making his life miserable now.
"Ellen," he called, as he stood in the empty living room.
There was no answer and he called again. Then he sighed with relief, and started back to his den for a drink. But he stopped halfway down the hall, and went cold as he remembered her threat this morning, that she might leave him so abruptly that it would stun him.
"Ellen," he yelled, and cursed her under his breath. "I'm coming," she answered from the back of the house.
Phillip sighed and walked into the kitchen, as she came in from the yard. He had to admit she looked lovely, in a pair of tight, red slacks which fully accentuated her willowy body and slim, tapered legs, and a white blouse, which showed the upward surge of her breasts.
"I was just hanging a couple of things on the line to dry," she said. "I didn't think you'd be back this early."
"I promised I'd come back right after class, didn't I?" he snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of his tone.
She looked at him, her green eyes narrow and her lips drawn thin. Then she walked past him, and out of the room.
"I appreciate the incredible sacrifice," she said, over her shoulder.
Phillip cursed again, and half ran from the kitchen, and caught her just as she reached the living room. He grabbed her arm, but she jerked away.
"Ellen, believe me, I didn't come home to fight, or to hurt you in any way," he said. "I love you, and I've made an important decision."
She sat down on the couch and looked up at him, but did not say anything. Phillip stared at her an instant, and again felt the rush of panic as he realized she might already have made the irrevocable decision to leave him.
He crossed the room quickly, and sank down beside her. And he could sense the tenseness and rigidity of her body, and remembered for a moment the warm, vibrant, soft touch of Jamie's lips.
Finally, Ellen looked around at him, her green eyes still narrowed. "What decision have you made, Phil-hp?" she asked.
"I'm going to suspend work on my project," he said. "I realized how completely selfish I've been, Ellen. Perhaps later I'll go back to it, but now I just want to try to repair our rapport, and spend time with you."
Ellen's eyes widened, and she touched his arm with her hand. "Oh, Phillip," she said. "Are you really? I can't believe it. If you're willing to stop work on the project, then I'm willing to believe perhaps we can work things out, darling. Though I feel rather badly that it's necessary."
"With the end of the semester coming up, I'll have enough work with my classes," he said. "But all that matters is salvaging our marriage, Ellen." Pour it on thick, he told himself, and stared into her eyes and hoped his hypocrisy didn't show.
"I do love you, Phillip," she said, very softly, and took his hands in hers and squeezed. "But I couldn't take any more of what I've been through. I had to have some gesture from you, some indication that I'm worth some sacrifice."
"You're worth any sacrifice, darling," he said, and leaned over and kissed her lips softly.
He pulled away, but her hands shot up and rubbed the back of his neck, and shoved his head forward rather roughly. This time, she kissed him urgently, a driving, sucking kiss, as she twisted her lips and dug her nails into the back of his neck.
The desperate kiss did not at all excite him, but he slid his hands around and ground them into the small of her back, then pulled her against him.
"Oh, darling," she mumbled through the kiss.
And her tongue snaked through his lips, and lashed frantically at the roof of his mouth, and she twisted her lips savagely, and clawed at his back. Her breath was hot and irregular, and she squirmed her body against him.
He lashed her tongue with his, and moved his body and rubbed his hands down to cup her buttocks. And his mind raced desperately, because he knew he had to satisfy her sexually, in order to convince her of his abrupt change of feeling toward her.
Phillip bit her tongue-tip, then pulled from her sucking lips. "I want you so much, Ellen," he muttered, and mashed his lips over her ear.
"Let me go back to the bedroom," she said. "And wait just a minute and then come back."
"I don't know if I can wait that long," he said, and felt he might choke on his words. But he pumped at her wiggling buttocks and bit her ear.
She gasped, and licked at his ear, then bit his neck. "I'll make it worth the wait," she muttered.
Ellen tugged his hands from her buttocks and scrambled off the couch. She smiled wickedly and took a deep breath, which heaved her breasts against the flimsy white material of the blouse.
"One minute, darling," she said, then turned and walked from the room, swaying her buttocks a bit excessively.
"I'll count the seconds," he called.
The instant she vanished, he bolted up and started for the bottle of scotch. But he stopped abruptly. If he took a drink in the midst of what she thought desperate passion, he would give the whole damn thing away.
He took a couple of steps toward the hall, then stopped, then took another half step. His mind was a tangle of desperate thoughts, and he knew he was only seconds away from disaster.
Ellen was a beautiful woman, he told himself. Beautiful, and her body was stacked and willowy and luscious, and she was wild and imaginative in bed. But, still, he could not get aroused.
"The minute's up," she called.
Christ, I'm dead, he said, half aloud. And he dragged himself from the living room and into the hall. He pictured those green eyes narrowing and those full lips drawing thin with hatred when she realized that he was not the least bit excited.
He moved with stumbling steps and told himself she would be on the next plane out of town, and the faculty grapevine would be buzzing with the news. He paused outside the bedroom door, and sighed. Then he stumbled in.
Ellen lay spread out on the bed, her long, lovely body clad in nearly-sheer, black panties and a lacy black bra. As he stopped and stared across the room, she smiled wickedly and shifted around onto her side, so that the thrust of her hips was emphasized in the small, black panties.
She took a deep breath which thrust her huge breasts against the flimsy bra, and licked around her lips as she ran her hand down over the dips and rises of her tantalizing waking body.
Phillip started across the room on treacherous legs. "Christ, you're beautiful," he muttered, and gazed intently at the sleek, inviting body in a desperate attempt to arouse himself.
"Thank you for the compliment," she said, in a throaty voice. "But I'm more concerned now, my darling, with displaying my other assets. You'll be amazed at the things I've thought of in just the past couple of minutes."
And Ellen twisted her hips slightly, and curled her long legs, and deepened her smile. Phillip sank to the edge of the bed, his heart pounding with fury of anxiety that made him giddy.
"My mind has been working furiously, too," he said, and bent to her hungry mouth.
Ellen glued her mouth to his, and her lips were sweet and warm. The kiss was tender only an instant, then her tongue teasingly explored his mouth, and she draped an arm around him, and scratched at his neck, then his ear.
Then she surged against him, and shoved the kiss harder, with sucking lips and a tongue that raped every sensitive part of his mouth and teeth that bit and chewed and hurt with faint, throbbing pain.
Phillip forced his hands over her quivering body, and snuggled over on top of her and mashed his kiss harder, and lashed her tongue with his.
"I want you so much," Ellen said, with a sex-charged voice, and her tongue went berserk in his mouth.
"I want you, too, darling," he said, and stroked her trim, squirming legs.
Ellen writhed beneath him, and moaned and lacerated his back with her sharp nails. He tore from her hungry mouth, and bit her ear, and ripped the bra from her straining breasts.
Phillip felt her jerk with desire as he cupped a swollen mound, and he rubbed the enlarged nipple with the palm of his hand.
But as he heard her gasp and felt her desperate body twisting and kissed her fiercely with a false passion, he knew she would momentarily realize that he was not at all excited.
He clamped his eyes shut and wallowed against the luxury of her feverish squirming body, and punished her mouth with his lips and teeth and tongue, and fondled her hard-nippled breasts.
Then when he felt all was lost, and in a last frantic effort to arouse himself, he slid a hand down and stroked the warm, silky thigh just beneath her black panties.
And with his eyes shut and his fingers trailing feather-light over the burning thigh, he thought suddenly of Jamie Williams, and he visualized her golden thighs beneath her skirt as she sat in class.
Phillip's heart missed a beat, and he kissed Ellen's whimpering lips with a new urgency, and twisted her nipple with his fingers as he imagined the feel of Jamie's, young innocent, vibrant body.
Then he stripped Jamie, his hands going wild on her copper-burning body, and he went berserk with Ellen. He punished her breasts and bursting-hard nipples, and shoved his hand at the panties, and his tongue explored her mouth, lashing one instant and teasing the next.
He felt her quiver, and rock back and forth, and then he ripped her panties off, and bit her lower Up, and remembered the kiss Jamie had given him on the cheek.
Phillip bit Ellen's ear, then her neck, and she dug her nails into his back, and locked her legs around him, and moaned again and again. Phillip kissed down to her hardened nipple, and when he nuzzled the nipples with his teeth, she gasped, and sank her teeth into his shoulder and whimpered like an animal.
It took all his strength to tear himself from her teeth and hands and legs, but he rolled off, and fumbled from his clothes with trembling. She attacked him then, ripping his shirt off, and nearly tearing his pants from his body.
Then, as he got out of shoes and shorts and shirt, she kissed him with her trembling, sucking lips and licked at his body with her wild, wet tongue. And her knowing hands made small, delightful moves along his suddenly-weak body.
When he shoved her back down and fell to her, he crushed her lips with a clumsy kiss, and thought of Jamie's lips, and imagined the flick of Jamie's little tongue in his mouth.
And when he started working with Ellen, and her moans matched guttural utterings, he thought of Jamie's writhing her perfect, honey-gold body beneath him.
Phillip worked with a brutal, pounding motion he had not used in an eternity with Ellen, and she responded with wild, writhing twists of her frantic, burning body, while she lacerated him with teeth and fingers.
CHAPTER FIVE
The morning was unusually cold for spring, and Phillip stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked quickly through the milling students waiting for classes to begin.
Another round of faked passion with Ellen had left him tense and drained, and again he had imagined Jamie's body to keep himself aroused. He walked faster, nodding at students from his classes, and thought again of his coming session with Dr. Adams, his chairman.
He tried to clear his thoughts and concentrate on what he must say, because he knew the meeting concerned his pending promotion. But he kept remembering the love-making to Ellen, and as he mounted the steps to the Liberal Arts building, he cursed her, and reminded himself she would pay dearly when his promotion came through.
What a damn tough break to have such an old prude as Adams as chairman, he told himself as he fumbled a cigarette butt and lit it. Though the whole damn faculty was conservative, and just the hint of a scandal, or a separation, and he could forget the promotion.
Phillip stopped outside Adams' office and took a couple of quick puffs of the cigarette. Then he mashed the cigarette out in the container on the wall, and shoved the door open.
Miss Prentiss, Adams' ancient and bitchy secretary, stared up at him, her thin, pinched face drawn tightly toward her line of a mouth.
"Good morning, Dr. Marcus," she said. "Dr. Adams has been waiting for you."
"Thank you," Phillip snapped, annoyed by her way of telling him he was late.
Phillip knocked on the door to the inner office, and realized his heart was beating faster. There was no answer, so he knocked again.
"Oh, go right on in, Dr. Marcus," Miss Prentiss said, with insistence. "He's probably absorbed in something and paying no attention at all to the door."
Phillip opened the door and stepped into the musty-smelling, cluttered office. Dr. Adams did not look up from his desk, squinting through his thick glasses at a book. The wisps of his grey hair were swirled about his head, as though he had just come from a fierce wind.
Phillip shuffled about and coughed and still Dr. Adams did not look up. Phillip shook his head and smiled as he stepped to the desk. He told himself he hoped he never became the absentminded, absorbed old professor type.
Dr. Adams looked up abruptly. "Ah, Phillip, I didn't hear you come in," he said.
"I'm sorry to be late, sir," Phillip said. "But I walked over."
"Perfectly alright," he said, and settled back in his chair. "I've been completely occupied with a new book on the Middle Ages. An account of life on the manors of eastern Sweden, as compared with those of Spain. Absolutely marvelous book. Don't suppose you've seen it."
"No, I haven't," Phillip said.
Dr. Adams shook his head. "I forget you modernists have little use for the Middle Ages," he said.
Phillip forced a smile, but hoped to hell he wouldn't get the standard lecture on modern history's being really political science. A lecture Dr. Adams could deliver for an eternity.
"Well, no matter," Dr. Adams said. "Here, have a seat. Just put those books down on the floor."
Phillip took a pile of tattered books from the chair and carefully placed them on the floor. Then he sat down.
"I wanted to discuss your pending promotion, Phillip," Dr. Adams said, and turned in the swivel chair and put his hands together over his stomach and leaned forward slightly.
Phillip's heart pounded, and he swallowed. "Has anything new come up, sir?" he asked.
"Oh, no," Dr. Adams said. "Everything is moving along. Just takes time. But I wanted to ask you if there is anything in your past, or your present, that might affect the decision of the faculty committee on promotions. It may seem like prying but I'm afraid it's necessary."
"I understand, sir," Phillip said.
"We're frankly a conservative institution here, Phillip," Dr. Adams said. "And we believe that in addition to teaching our young students, we also have an obligation to set high standards for them, in our day to day life. It's one thing to take a man on for a year or two, from another school, as we did with you. But it's quite another to promote him, and make him a permanent member of our academic community."
"I couldn't agree more," Phillip said, and stared a moment at Dr. Adams, and thought of the Middle Ages. "No, there's nothing to hide. No skeletons. And certainly nothing in my day to day life now. Though I do smoke, and even take a drink at times." He hoped the old man took the joke as he had intended it, and smiled to himself as he thought of his true drinking habits.
Adams chuckled, and nodded. "Oh, I take an occasional glass of sherry myself, Phillip," he said. "Even have wine with dinner at times. And in my old age, I've gotten wicked enough to have a brandy with coffee on special occasions. No, that was hardly what I had in mind."
"Well, there's certainly nothing wrong with my marriage," Phillip said, and then felt he had blurted it out. "Ellen and I couldn't be happier."
"I'm glad to hear that," Adams said. "Everyone on the faculty is quite fond of you both, and you make a handsome couple, and set a good example for our young people, who are facing serious questions about marriage and sex now."
"Ellen and I have discussed that ourselves," Phillip said.
"It must be quite a temptation to be young and attractive, and be surrounded by lovely coeds," Adams said. "But it's as important to our men that they resist that temptation as it is that they know their subject matter. More important really. And we demand a good, solid marriage as a basis of that ability to resist temptation. Obviously, you're blessed in that department, Phillip."
"Yes, I am, sir," Phillip said, and nearly flushed as he thought of his day to day life now with Ellen, and the love-making earlier in the morning.
"We had a terrible thing a few years back," Adams said, and settled back in his chair. "Before you came. Man in the English department was sued by his wife for divorce, and in the proceedings it developed he had a coed as a mistress. Well, we were able to cover it up, with the help of the girl's parents. But I can assure you that man will never get another decent teaching job. Second-rate junior college for him."
"That sort of conduct is shocking," Phillip said, and felt he would choke on the words.
"There's no place in academic circles for men like that," Adams said. "Why I remember when I did my first graduate work, there was an elderly professor. In classics, I believe. A shocking scandal with a young girl."
Phillip stifled a sigh, and tried to relax in the straight-backed chair as Adams rumbled on with his tale of scandal with a young girl. He knew now Adams would say nothing more of importance, and he would have to endure a series of tales now.
But he nodded and looked grave, and smiled at a terrible joke. And he told himself if he had time before his class, he would get the library stack card for Jamie Williams.
Phillip walked slowly down the corridor, and asked himself why Jamie had cut his class. Then he told himself he was being absurd to even think about it. Yet, he could not help but visualize the empty seat, the front of the room, and think of her slim, golden legs crossed with the skirt resting high on her copper thighs.
He had hoped to surprise her after class, and give her the stack permit. He nodded at two students, and assured himself that this kind of harmless thing with Jamie was completely safe and proper. It was one luxury he could allow himself, while he waited out his promotion, and pacified Ellen.
Just as Phillip stopped in front of his office, he saw Carl Jennings coming down the corridor. Jennings seemed to be muttering to himself, and Phillip smiled and told himself Jennings wouldn't have to worry about being tempted by lovely, young coeds.
Not that Jennings was unattractive. But his absent-minded mumblings and his baggy clothes and horn-rimmed serious face, were hardly likely to attract someone such as Jamie Williams. Perhaps this was the price Jennings paid for being the top man in the physics department, Phillip told himself.
For a moment, he thought Jennings, his lips moving slightly, would walk right past him. But Jennings stopped and smiled.
"Free now?" he asked, abruptly. "Heading for coffee myself."
"I've got an office full of tests and papers to look over," Phillip said.
"All right, maybe later," Jennings said.
"Drop by the house this afternoon," Phillip said. "And we'll have something to improve the taste of the coffee."
"Sounds good," Jennings said and nodded.
He moved away with an awkward, ambling gait, and Phillip stared at the tall figure in the baggy suit. He reminded himself to invite Jennings to the house more often, because for some reason Ellen loved to hear him prattle on about his experiments, and anything that kept Ellen occupied was needed now.
Phillip pushed open the door to his office, and stopped. Jamie Williams was sitting on a chair, and her smile made him go warm. As he crossed the room, she stood up, and he glanced at the thrust of her luscious breasts against the thin, brown blouse.
"Oh, Dr. Marcus, I just feel awful about cutting your class," she said, her voice pleading and little-girl like.
"It's not the first time my class has been cut," he said, and wondered if she could detect the way his voice went hoarse.
"I've just got to explain it to you," she said.
"Come into the office," he said, and opened the door.
She walked past, and he let himself feast on the rounded buttocks encased in a skin-tight skirt.
When she sat in the straightbacked chair beside his desk, her skirt was pulled high on her thighs, and she did not smooth it down. He glanced at the tempting thighs as he eased himself down into his swivel chair and picked up his pipe.
"I'm going to tell the truth," she said, nearly running her words together. "I had a little too much to drink last night and had a terrible hangover and I just didn't get up. I know that sounds childish, Dr. Marcus."
Phillip lit his pipe, and glanced at her from the corner of his eye. He still felt the warmth, and realized her breasts were straining against the thin blouse.
"It's not wise, but hardly childish, Miss Williams," he said, as he took a deep puff. "But you should pick a boy who takes better care of you."
"All the boys on campus are alike," she said, and shook her head. "Just boys, that's all. I can drink any of them under the table, and I'm not much of a drinker. I swear, I don't think I'll accept another date, not from some silly child who only wants to drink and paw all over me. Oh, dear, I shouldn't have said that."
Phillip laughed and puffed on the pipe, and thought of some boy panting and grabbing that magnificent body, and then thought of the implication of what she had said.
He pulled his pipe from his mouth, fumbled with it to keep his eyes from the surging breasts or the bare thighs. "I doubt if you'll shock me very easily, Miss Williams," he said, as he knocked the pipe filling out into the ashtray.
"I always feel like a child when I talk to you, Dr. Marcus," she said. "I want to be mature, and impress you and be a really good student and all. And I just say childish things."
"You're hardly a child," he said, and stared into her sparkling eyes. "You're a beautiful woman." He looked down at the moist, full lips. "And a student who makes it a pleasure to be a teacher."
The eyes seemed to moisten, then sparkle with a new luster, and the lips opened slightly. "Oh, thank you, Dr. Marcus," she said.
"And to show you I mean what I say about your being an exceptional student, I got you a stack permit this morning," he said, and pulled the card from his coat pocket.
Her face lit up and her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. "That's just great," she said. "Then you really do think I'm a good student. Now, I'll work really hard. So hard, you just won't believe it. I'm going to the library after dinner and stay up in the stacks till they run me out."
She took the card, and he thought for an instant that she would let her dainty fingers linger on his hand. But she pulled them away, and held the card in front of her, and carefully read it aloud.
"You've now been officially listed as my assistant, which is the only way I could get the damn thing," he said.
"Then I will be helping you on your project," she said.
"No, as I told you before, I've suspended work on it," he said. "But now that I think of it, you might do some work." There were things she could do, he added to himself. And Ellen need not know he was continuing the work.
"Can I get started tonight?" she asked. "Will you be in the library tonight?"
More than anything, he wanted to tell her he would see her in the library. But he remembered Ellen, and warned himself he had better spend the entire night with her, and go through another round of faked passion.
"Not tonight, I'm afraid," he said. And he was pleased at the obvious disappointment she felt.
"Oh, I see," she said. "Well, anyway, I'm going and spend the evening in the stacks and get to know my way around. Well, I guess I better run. Can't afford to cut another class. Not all of my professors are as understanding as you."
She stood up, and looked down at him and smiled very faintly, then turned and hurried across the room, her buttocks poking deliciously against her skirt.
Phillip stared at her, and licked his lips then quickly relit his pipe, and cursed Ellen. Reluctantly, he dug a stack of test papers from his desk, and picked up a red pencil.
CHAPTER SIX
Phillip was halfway up the walk before he realized there was another car parked in the driveway. He stopped. Then he remembered he had told Carl Jennings to stop by.
"Christ," he uttered, as he opened the door. An idiot like Jennings was the last person he wanted to put up with this afternoon.
There was a record of soft music, and he heard Ellen humming. And as he stepped into the living room, he knew at once that she was a little drunk.
She poured down a martini, then glanced over at him. "Oh hello, Phillip," she said in an abstract, offhand way. "You're just in time to mix another pitcher of martinis."
Jennings stood up, and shook hands with PhiUip. "I took you up on your invitation," he said.
Phillip saw that Jennings was unsteady on his feet, and that his face was flushed. He started to speak, then nodded and walked over and pecked Ellen on the cheek. Keep up the pretense in front of the faculty, he told himself. But he was angry at Ellen for drinking like this in front of someone they knew as casually as Jennings.
"That martini, darling," Ellen said and handed him her empty glass.
"I believe I could use some coffee myself," Phillip said.
"Coffee sounds good to me," Jennings said, quickly, "I'm afraid I'm not much of a drinker."
Ellen laughed. "Why I do believe I've corrupted one of the faculty's most distinguished members," she said, and smiled wickedly, her green eyes flashing.
Phillip remembered his meeting with Adams, and their talks of faculty morals, and he felt like going over and shaking Ellen sober. But he only smiled slightly at her, then at Jennings, as though it were all a big joke.
"Even distinguished physicists have to loosen up sometimes," he said.
"Oh, I guess so," Jennings said. "We're not fortunate like chemistry professors. Can't nip away at the stock of alcohol while we work."
It took Phillip an instant to realize this was meant to be funny. Then he heard Ellen laughing, and he forced another smile.
"I'll put the coffee on," he said.
"Think I'll take a rain-check," Jennings said, as he glanced at his watch. "I didn't realize the time."
Thank God, Phillip said to himself. But to Jennings he said, "Don't run, Carl. I feel bad about inviting you over, then being late."
"Don't apologize," Jennings said. "But I really have to go."
He walked over to the couch, and again Phillip saw that he had had too much to drink. With his natural awkwardness, he was really amusing now. And when he took Ellen's hand and kissed it, then stumbled and caught himself on the couch, Phillip bit his hp to keep from laughing aloud. The great charmer, he told himself.
Jennings steadied himself and shook hands with Phillip and left. Phillip followed him to the door, telling him to come back any time. Then he returned to the living room.
Ellen lay with her head back on the couch, and her eyes closed. She was breathing heavily, so that her ample breasts heaved provocatively. And her legs were twisted up on the couch so that her willowy body was displayed in a way that made Phillip gaze with interest, despite his anger at her.
He crossed the room quickly, and sank down onto the couch beside her. She opened her eyes and stared at him, then she put her hand on his shoulder. He tensed and started to jerk away.
But she leaned up and kissed his lips softly. "I'm sorry, darling," she said. "It was stupid of me to drink like that."
"Yes, it was stupid," he snapped. "Why the hell did you do it? And in front of Carl Jennings?"
Ellen shook her head, and sat up and smoothed her skirt. "I don't know," she mumbled. "You were late coming home, and I felt sorry for myself."
"I know I was late," he said. "But I gave up the project. There are still other responsibilities I have on campus, Ellen."
"I know," she said, and she sounded very tired, and Phillip noticed tiny lines around her deep green eyes. "I know things will work out for us now, and I do appreciate your giving up the project. But I was so miserable for so long, it's hard to accept the fact that things have changed."
Be tender, Phillip chanted to himself. Keep happy, so she doesn't repeat this drinking scene in front of Adams or someone else, and ruin all chances for promotion.
He put his arm around her shoulders and slid closer, and kissed her ear. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, darling," he said softly. "It's difficult on both of us. Tell you what. We can talk better in bed."
Her eyes narrowed, and she dug her nails into his arm and licked around his lips and murmured, "Oh yes, darling."
Another ordeal, he told himself, and he pulled her from the couch and put his arm around her waist and led her from the living room and down the hall. She could barely walk, and her breathing was still labored, and Phillip realized if he had come home one martini later she might have been passed out on the couch.
As they sat down on the bed, he was already thinking of Jamie. Ellen turned her face up, and he kissed her lips, and remembered Jamie's soft, moist lips the time she kissed him in the library.
And as Ellen's desperate, licking tongue shoved between her lips, he cupped a heavy breast, and thought of Jamie's breasts pressing against the tight blouse. He cupped the breast and squeezed and wondered what Jamie's breasts would look like, and how it would feel to kiss them. And how it would feel to press his mouth to her nipples as her little tongue went berserk in his ear.
He lay Ellen back and she clawed at his neck and poured out her irregular, panting breath. He tore his lips from her sucking mouth, and sat up.
"Let me get this damn tie off," he muttered.
He tugged at the knot and pulled the tie off and unbuttoned his shirt. He closed his eyes and saw Jamie's lush body. Then he turned back to Ellen.
Her eyes were closed and her body limp and her breathing was steady now. Phillip bent down, then smiled. She had passed out.
Gently, he moved her around in the bed, and pulled her shoes off. She looked as though she could sleep a week. He scrambled from the bed and walked quickly up to the living room and mixed a drink.
He sipped the drink and walked to the window and stared out at the pink and purple dusk and told himself this was a damn lucky break. If she didn't wake up in a couple of hours, he would fix his own dinner and leave a note and go back to the campus.
She would definitely be on the defensive in their relationship after this little fiasco, he told himself, and took a long swallow of the cold drink. He smiled and thought of making sure that Carl Jennings dropped by frequently.
He drained the glass and mixed another drink and thought of having an early dinner, then going to the library, for some special research in the stacks tonight.
Then he returned to stare from the window, and his smile was deep and satisfied.
The library was deserted and Phillip forced himself to walk slowly and casually, and even to stop and browse through the periodical room. But as he thumbed a magazine, he glanced twice at his watch, and wondered if he were too early.
He left the periodical room and again slowed his pace as he moved to the elevator. He could not help but warn himself that again he was playing a dangerous game, to let himself get even this interested in a coed.
But he told himself that so long as he kept his hands off her, there was no danger. And he needed a game such as this one, to keep him going during this period with Ellen.
And as Phillip waited for the elevator, he told himself that aside from his other interest in Jamie, she could be a real help in keeping his project alive. She was a bright girl and a good student, and she could do valuable research.
As Phillip rode up in the deserted elevator, he realized he had no idea where in hell Jamie might be. There were floors of stacks and endless, narrow, dimly-lit corridors. If she was not in the history section, he might spend hours searching for her.
Phillip moved rapidly past the tall rows of history books, moved up and down the empty narrow walkways, and found only two students, both girls, and both thin and homely.
He stalked back to the elevator and impatiently pushed the button. But he waited a couple of minutes and the damn thing didn't come. So he hurried to the stairs and ran down to the next landing, and moved rapidly through stacks of political science books.
Two hours later, exhausted and cursing, his heart pounding and sweat standing on his forehead, Phillip returned to the history level and leaned against a bookcase in a dim corner and lit a cigarette.
He watched the faint, grey smoke curl and disappear in the meager light from a tiny bulb in the wall, and thought of his wife passed out drunk at home, and this having saved him from a passionless love-making session.
He took a deep drag and thought of his meeting with old man Adams, and the game he was playing to get the promotion. And now surrounded by darkness and loneliness, he admitted to himself as he took short, nervous drags on the cigarette that the promotion meant only money and prestige and security. That his real joy in teaching was in performing for students, and that he had no real interest in scholarship and research.
He knew how to play the game and get ahead quickly in university life, the same way he might have played the game had he chosen advertising and banking as a career.
And he told himself that once the promotion came through, he would be secure, and the damn faculty and its morale could go to hell. He would not have to worry about a mill-stone like Ellen. And he would put into his life the kind of excitement he had wanted for a long time, and been afraid to get.
He finished the cigarette, and dropped it to the floor. The loneliness and uneasiness gnawed at him, and he felt he could suddenly claw the walls. He doubled his hands into fists and squeezed the nails into his palms and warned himself to get hold of things.
Christ, he muttered and turned and half ran down the corridor. He wanted a drink more than anything on earth.
He bolted to the elevator and pumped the button, and then the elevator stopped and the door slid open. Phillip went warm.
Jamie Williams stepped out, her smile full and her eyes wide and he inhaled her faint, sweet perfume.
"Oh, you came after all," she purred. She stepped from the elevator, and the doors slid shut behind her.
"Yes, I decided to come," he said, and felt awkward and hot and weakknead.
"I came within an inch of staying in my room," she said. "I thought it would be so spooky and lonely and all here."
"It is lonely," he said. "Empty, that is."
"Do I get the guided tour?" She asked, and cocked her head up at him, and there was an enigmatic smile on the edges of her lips.
"One guided tour coming up," he said, and knew his attempt at lightness failed. His voice sounded hoarse and he swallowed and stared at her broadening, impish smile, and for an instant down the length of the ripe body boldly displayed in a tight rust-colored sweater and skirt.
Phillip led Jamie down the aisle, and babbled about his project and about scholarship and research and she obviously hung on every word.
His heart pumped and he felt warm and with each breath, he inhaled her perfume. Just being alone with her in the dim, intimate stacks seemed as physical as touching the magnificent body only inches away.
He showed her books and they made a list of things she should do to help him with the project. And a couple of times as she took a book, her slim fingers seemed to rest an instant longer than necessary on his hand.
And once, as she leaned over to get a book from the stack, her breasts, thrust taut against the sweater as she strained on her toes, brushed his arm, and a chill shot up his spine and he sucked in his breath.
In two hours, they had pages of notes, and she had half a dozen books crammed in her arms. They stood at the end of the last row, in a corner where the pale light barely penetrated.
"I hope I'm not getting you off in too much of a rush," Phillip said, as he took the books from her arms and put them on a shelf.
She looked at him a full minute, her eyes wide and dazzling. "Dr. Marcus, you couldn't give me too much of a rush," she said, finally, and there was no mistaking the implication of her words.
"Miss Williams," he started, weakly, tearing from her pentrating eyes.
But somehow he was a step closer now, and her breasts brushed his chest, and his temples throbbed and he licked his lips and inhaled her perfume, and glanced quickly into the dimly-lit corridor. But they were clearly alone.
His kiss was sudden and reckless, but her response was immediate. Her mouth was open, her lips wet and warm and moving, her tongue streaking his tongue, then the roof of his mouth.
He gasped and his heart pounded and he put his arms around her and pulled her squirming, perfect body sharply against him. Her nails streaked his neck and he slid his hands down to cup her jutting buttocks.
Then Jamie abruptly tore from his lips and ripped his hands from her buttocks. "Just kiss me, nothing else now, please," she panted.
Phillip cupped her face and pressed his lips against hers in a sucking, tongue-lashing kiss. But her response now was shy, and though she opened her mouth, her tongue was still and her lips strangely unmoving.
Then she pulled away once more and stepped back, and Phillip cursed himself and his stupidity as he looked into her narrow, dry eyes and firmly-set mouth.
"Look, Miss Williams," he said, but found it difficult to talk between rushes of breath.
"I can't help it," she blurted, and tears stood in the corners of her eyes. "I'd have died if you hadn't kissed me like that. But I'm all confused and afraid, and here we are in this stupid library."
"Miss Williams," he repeated, aroused beyond control and confused and afraid someone would step around the corridor and his academic career would be ended in an instant.
"I know I may get expelled for this," she said, and wiped at her eyes. "But I can't help it. I'm just infatuated with you, and I know it's terrible and you're married and all. I feel so childish, and I want to be a woman for you. But I don't know how to please you. All boys ever do is paw me and pant and act like fools. And don't say Miss Williams again. At least, just for now, you can call me Jamie."
Phillip put his hand on her waist, and she stiffened, but did not pull away. A lone, huge tear rolled down her cheek, and Phillip stared at the way the pale light shadowed her exquisite face. He felt a flush of excitement he had not known in years.
"It's impossible here, anything is impossible here, even talking," he said.
She wiped her face and sniffled. "And I've got to get back to my room or I'll get a stiff campus," she said. "Please take me out, if just for one time. Someplace away from this damn campus. Please."
"Yes, Jamie," he said. "Tomorrow night. Can you go with me tomorrow night?"
"Oh, yes," she said. "But we'll have to be careful. I have my own car, and I can meet you somewhere off campus."
"Yes, that's good," he said. "Do you know that deserted mansion on the edge of town, just past the park? How about meeting me there, and we can go somewhere in my car. How about, say, seven-thirty?"
"Fine," she said. "And I won't cry and I'll be a real woman. Really I will. But you'll have to be patient and understand I feel inexperienced and awkward, and that I'm scared to death."
"I understand," he said softly, and bent to her lips.
But she backed away. "Oh, no, please," she said. "Not here. Not now. Tomorrow night, we'll have hours alone, and I'll do anything you want then."
"You're right, we're courting disaster here," he said.
"Walk me to the elevator," she said.
He took her hand and they walked slowly to the elevator, Phillip aware now of the slightest sound that would indicate someone else was near. But there was no sound except for their breathing, and the pounding of his heart.
At the elevator, she jumped forward and pushed the button. Then she pivoted and kissed his lips quickly. The elevator came quickly and the doors slid open and she stepped in.
"Tomorrow night," he said.
"I'm glad I don't have a class under you tomorrow," she said, as she blocked the door from closing. "I'm afraid I couldn't control myself."
"Tomorrow night," he said.
He stared at her, and sucked in his breath. She suddenly had her hand on his cheek, and kissed his lips, then jerked back and the doors closed and she was gone.
Phillip stood still, his legs rubbery, his body wracked with a sticky, draining heat, the blood at his temples. He knew he was risking everything to see her tomorrow night.
But he knew she would be discreet no matter what happened.
And he fumbled out a cigarette and lit it and took a deep drag. He smiled grimly. No matter how she reacted, he knew he would meet her tomorrow night, if he had to do it in Dr. Adams' office.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A faint breeze stirred the warm spring air as Phillip drove down the deserted street, past the tall, stately oak trees of the park.
His thoughts were filled with visions of Jamie, and from the instant she had disappeared into the elevator last night, he had been obsessed with thoughts of seeing her. Now she was only seconds away.
Phillip turned the vent in and let the warm wind flow across his flushed-warm face. Through his fantasies he repeated again and again that he could have this obvious affair with Jamie, and still protect the promotion, and string Ellen along.
Ellen. He shook his head and smiled. She had been unbelievably apologetic about her behavior yesterday, and had given him no trouble at all about having to return to the campus tonight. And then when that fool, Carl Jennings blundered in and wanted to play cards, it had been perfect.
So Ellen, feeling guilty as hell, was sitting playing double solitaire or something similar with an awkward gangling physics professor, and he was free to take out the loveliest girl on the campus.
Phillip took his foot from the accelerator. He passed from the park and onto the grounds of the old, deserted mansion. He glanced into the mirror, then into the distance ahead. There was no car in either direction.
Then he saw the outline of a car at the curb ahead, and he pumped on the brake. His car came to a halt beside a small, obviously-expensive sports car. Jamie leaned from the window.
"I thought you'd never get here," she said.
"Am I late," he called, as he pulled up the emergency brake and climbed out. He walked around to her car.
"No, I guess I was just early," she said. "And it's a little spooky here. And I'm all jumpy and nervous."
He leaned down and put his hands on the window and looked at her incredibly lovely face. "This is some car, young lady," he said. "It must have cost a fortune."
"Well, yes, but I can afford it," she said, and there was a sudden, strange smile on her face.
"You mean I'm involved with a mysterious heiress?" he asked, and realized he didn't know a damn thing about her.
Her laugh was starkly harsh, and split the nearly eerie silence of the street. "An heiress?" she asked, in a tone he had never heard. "Hardly. I simply have, oh, let's say, an independent source of income."
"All right, no more questions," he said.
She put her hand over his, and the smile now was the one he remembered, and her voice was fresh and soft. "I was afraid you wouldn't come," she said.
"I wish we had made it seven-thirty this morning," he said.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Are you hungry?" he asked, and squeezed her hand. "We can go to a place I know. It's an hour's drive away, and there will be no one from the campus."
"I eat like a bird," she said, and opened the door and got out.
Phillip glanced quickly up and down the street. Then he took her hands in his, and stepped to her. "Something to drink, perhaps?" he asked. "Some place we can dance?"
"Two drinks is my limit," she said. "And I've had my fill of dancing for one semester."
"Then there's nothing to do but go somewhere and be alone," he said.
"That's a coincidence," she said, and put her head on his shoulder. "That's what I was thinking, also."
"I have a bottle in the car, in case we do want a drink," he said, and felt her lips hot and wet on his ear. "We better get off this damn street."
"Shall we go in my car or yours?" she asked.
"Your car is lovely and impressive," he said. "But mine is an old clunk and has plenty of room and might be better for us tonight."
She bit his ear and pulled away smiling. "I like a man who thinks ahead," she said, as she reached into her car and pulled out the keys.
Phillip was already warm and his heart was racing as they got into his car and he drove off. Jamie slid instantly across the seat, and pressed her body against his.
He found soft, soaring music on the radio, and drove rapidly along the street.
"I'll do anything to make you happy," she said, as he turned onto the highway. "But please understand I'm young and scared and have no confidence at all."
"I understand," he said. "And everything will be perfect for us, Jamie."
He mashed down on the accelerator, and the wind rushed at his face and her insistent, warm tongue flicked at his ear and he knew this would be a night he would remember for a long time.
The panorama from the bluff was breathtaking and Phillip sat with his arm around Jamie, and drank scotch from the bottle, and stared down at the specks of light on the river, and at the dark-etched shapes of the hills beyond.
Jamie snuggled closer to him, and he felt her moist, hot breath on his neck.
"It's just lovely," she said. "I'm so glad you brought me out here. And not to some silly place to eat and drink and dance. But I do think I could use another sip from the bottle."
"Still doubtful?" he asked.
"Oh, no, I haven't been doubtful at all," she said, and nuzzled his ear with her teeth. "I know perfectly well what I want to do, and I intend to do it. But, well, I'm worried about being so young and unknowing and awkward and all. I'm just petrified, frankly."
Phillip took a final sip, and put the cap on and dropped the bottle to the seat. He turned to Jamie and kissed her cheek, then her eyes, and her nose.
"You're so lovely, Jamie," he said. "Nothing bad can happen between us, darling. Don't you know that? Whatever we do will be beautiful and perfect. You're the most beautiful and most provocative and most desirable woman I've ever known."
Jamie twisted her face up to him, and licked around his lips. He slid his hands behind her and crushed her body to him, and shoved a rough, surging kiss into her open mouth.
Her body was ramrod-stiff, but she moved her lips and let him flick at her tongue-tip. And his hands roamed about her body, to cup a magnificent breast through the thin blouse, and to rub over her smooth, warm legs.
"Oh, Phillip, I want to please you," she gasped through his kiss, and she opened her lips wider now, and twisted the lips, and moved her tongue, though her body was still stiff in his arms.
"I won't hurt you, darling," he said, and forced his anxious hands to be gentle.
Slowly she responded to his knowing, driving kiss. Her lips moved in wilder ways, and her tongue became bolder, and then she was nibbling and then biting his lips and tongue.
And her small, hesitant hands were soft on his neck, then rubbing tenderly around his ears. He grabbed a breast and rubbed and squeezed and her nails dug into his neck, then scratched his back beneath his shirt.
Phillip shoved the kiss harder, and felt her knee rubbing up his leg, and a flash shot up his spine. As her darting tongue raced about his mouth, he fumbled her blouse open, and told himself to take it easy, and not hurt or frighten her.
Though she was still stiff and obviously scared, her kissing and the work of her fingers and leg were driving him rapidly to a soaring passion.
Finally he had the blouse unbuttoned and he pulled it from her skirt, and grabbed a bra-covered breast and squeezed and heard her gasp. He slid his hand around her smooth, soft back, and unfastened the black, frilly bra, and tugged it off.
Then as her luscious breasts fell free, he tore from her wet, urgent lips, and stared at the huge mounds, with large, brownish nipples pointing proudly upward.
His heart pumped and sweat stood in droplets on his face, and he licked his lips, and gently enclosed the breasts in his hands and went hot at the sensation. She shoved the breasts harder into the hands.
And then he was kissing her, their tongues lashing, and his hands pumped and fondled and mashed, then his fingers played with the nipples and her rigid body melted and flowed against him, and her little fingers went wild over his body.
His breath was coming in rushes as he pulled from her lips and leaned down and kissed a breast. She bit his ear as he nibbled a nipple, then she smothered the ear in a hot, wet kiss.
His hands slid over her legs and onto her damp, warm thighs, and his trembling fingers stroked and tickled and pinched and she squirmed and whimpered.
As his desperate fingers rubbed over her tiny, black panties, she stiffened a moment, and tried to cross her legs to block his hand. Then she relaxed suddenly, and slid down into the seat, and again her ripe, hot body melted, and her breasts and lips and tongue and hands drove him nearly berserk with desire, and his hands roamed her thighs and buttocks.
"Jamie, Jamie," he wheezed, and moved from her breasts to devour her quivering, wet lips, as a hand replaced his mouth on the breasts.
Phillip was at some point beyond rationality when he tore from his clothes, then ripped off what remained of her flimsy garments. Her honey-smooth body glowed with a damp, hot fire and he fell to her, and she welcomed him and they started together.
He groaned and heard her whimpering, and her nails racked his back and her teeth sank into his shoulder. He soared up and up, to a screaming, blinding point and then his sensation exploded, and he lay limp and panting on her sweat-soaked body. She said his name very softly and ran tender fingers through his hair.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Phillip waited impatiently for the elevator, and the thought that he would be with Jamie again added to his impatience. He glanced at his watch, and saw he had a class in less than ten minutes. And half way across the campus.
To hell with it, he muttered, and the elevator finally came and he got in. It seemed to take an eternity to reach the stack level, where they met now, and when the doors slid open, Phillip bolted out and half ran down the long, narrow corridor.
As he turned the corner, he stopped abruptly. She was not there. He glanced at his watch again, then moved slowly down the dark corridor, took out a cigarette and lit it.
He still found it difficult to believe everything was working out so well with Jamie. Each time now that they made love, she became a little better, a little more knowing, a little wilder. And he became a little more obsessed with her perfect, young body.
This past weekend while she was away, had been nearly unbearable. And he had never looked forward more to a Monday morning. But where the hell could she be?
Phillip finished the cigarette and mashed it out. He glanced at his watch and cursed. Then as he started down the corridor, she appeared, breathtaking in a body-hugging, brilliant rust dress that clearly out-lined every nook and cranny she had.
He rushed to her, and glanced about, then put his hands on her waist and looked down into her face. But her eyes were narrowed and her mouth set, and there were faint lines about her eyes he had never noticed before.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
She pulled his hands from her waist. "No, nothing's wrong," she said, in a fiat, bored voice. "But please don't start pawing me right here in the library."
"I've missed you," he said. "I've counted the hours until I could be with you again."
"Well, here I am," she said, and the mocking, humorless smile on her lips made him go cold.
"Jamie, something is wrong," he said. "I've never seen you act like this. Please talk to me, darling."
"Look, I just got in, and I'm beat," she said. "We'll have to put off talking until later."
"All right, I'm late for a class as it is," he said. "Can you meet me for lunch?"
"I'm going to spend the day in bed," she said.
"Okay, can you meet me at our place tonight?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I have other things to do tonight," she said. "But look, call me in a couple of days."
"Christ," he blurted, "What the hell's happening, Jamie? You know how I feel about you. How obsessed with you I am."
"I know, sweetie," she said, her voice strange and mocking. "And don't you worry. You'll be seeing as much of me as you want to. Now I've got to run."
"Jamie," he started, but trailed the words off. He felt confused and frightened by her sudden change, by the hardness and mocking quality that had suddenly appeared in this lovely, warm, shy girl.
"No scene, please, Phillip," she said. "Call me in a couple of days. I have some things to work out."
She turned abruptly, but he caught her arm and pulled her around. "You can't run off like this, Jamie," he said.
"Really, Phillip," she hissed, and tore his hand off. "What do you want? A sweet, till-we-meet-again kiss?"
She leaned up on her toes and pecked at his lips, then pulled away, her smile deep and mocking. She pivoted, and walked quickly away as Phillip stared at her lovely buttocks in the tight dress.
He went weak in the knees, and his temples throbbed and he felt warm. He stood for a full minute, completely stunned.
Then he dragged himself down the dim corridor, remembering vaguely that he was already late for a class. As he pushed the elevator button he told himself she was having a delayed reaction to the lovemaking. That he had not realized how much of an impact an affair such as this would have on a girl like Jamie.
But as he walked into the elevator, he knew no amount of rationalization could wipe away the vision of her hard, mocking smile, or the tone of her words.
Phillip drove into the small town adjoining the campus, and went to a small, dark bar on a side street. No one from the campus ever came here, and he could safely have the few drinks he felt he needed. It would be foolhardy to be caught drinking in the middle of the day.
The bar was deserted except for a fat, floozy, waitress talking to an old man in a shiny, blue suit who needed a shave. Phillip slid onto a rough, wooden stool at the bar, and inhaled the musty air and cigarette smoke.
The waitress took her time, but finally shuffled down the bar. "What'll it be, honey?" she asked.
"Double scotch on the rocks," he said.
She poured the drink. "Must be from the University," she said, as she slid the drink across the wooden bar. "We don't get much truck with the University people."
Phillip took a deep swallow of the scotch, then another. "I'm from the University," he said. "And I've been here a couple of times. But not recently."
"Yeh, honey, now I remember you," she said. "Can't forget a good-looking guy like you."
"Hey, Mable, how about a drink?" the old man called.
"Coming, Hugh," she answered, and smiled at Phillip, then shuffled back down to the far end of the bar.
Phillip drank the scotch, glad to be left alone. And he was thankful when she poured him a second drink, and returned to talk to the old man. Phillip felt better now, and he took small sips, and tried to think clearly.
There was definitely something wrong with Jamie, and he had seen a side of her that frightened him. Yet he realized he knew nothing of her, or what kind of personal problems she had that might upset her.
And he also knew he was too obsessed with her to care. He wanted her, wanted to possess her body every day. And he was determined he could do it, because she would cooperate in keeping everything quiet after his promotion came through.
Then he would somehow dump Ellen. Once he was a full professor, he could do as he pleased. He would do anything to possess Jamie, and marriage was not out of the question.
He poured down the Scotch. The main problem now was to keep pacifying Ellen. In fact, he told himself, he should go right home now. He had not made love to her in several days, and this was dangerous, though she had been completely subdued since the day she passed out on the bed.
He finished the drink. He needed to make love. It would not be Jamie, but Ellen was better than nothing. He threw some money on the counter, smiled at the waitress, and left the bar, feeling much better.
He drove home quickly, and realized the scotch had hit him pretty hard on an empty stomach. By the time he pulled up in front of his house, he was thinking of Jamie, and looking forward to imagining her and making love to Ellen.
As he climbed from the car, he saw that Carl Jennings' car was parked in the driveway. He walked up to the house and told himself he would get rid of Jennings quickly enough. He had at first encouraged his visits, to keep Ellen occupied with his inane chatter. But now he was becoming more trouble than he was worth, with his constant visits.
A burst of laughter greeted him as he shoved the door open. Drunken laughter. Christ, he muttered, and stormed into the living room.
"Why, Phillip, darling, what brings you home at this time of day?" Ellen asked, and stumbled up from the couch, sloshing martini on her green skirt.
Jennings was propped against the couch, his long frame slouched, his suit seeming baggier than ever. He was drinking a martini, but most of it was spilling down his chin.
"What the hell's happening?" Phillip asked, and then stared at Ellen swaying across the room, suddenly aroused by the willowy body and flaring hips.
"Obviously, dear, we're getting drunk," she said. "We're celebrating, Phillip. And you must get a drink and celebrate with us."
"Yes, have a drink," Jennings said.
Phillip flushed with anger at having Jennings offer him a drink in his own home. But he still could not take his eyes from Ellen, and the way she swayed her body across the floor. He remembered how much he wanted to make love to her.
"I came home to see you, Ellen," he said, as she stopped in front of him. He put his hand on her waist and squeezed and stared into her eyes.
But she backed away and thrust the glass at him. "Have a drink," she said.
"Dammit, I don't want a drink," he said.
"Well, I do," she said, and drained the martini.
Phillip glanced past her to Jennings. "I want to talk to you, alone," he said. "I missed you so much, I came home to be with you, Ellen."
"But my dear, we have a guest," she said. And she turned and smiled at Jennings and he smiled back in a way that made Phillip want to go over and bust him in the mouth.
But he checked his anger, and warned himself he had to endure Ellen for now. He crossed over to the liquor cabinet.
"All right, I'll have a drink," he said.
As Phillip mixed the drink, Ellen went over and poured a drink from the martini pitcher. She smiled at Jennings, and then sank down onto the couch.
He finished his drink, and had trouble steadying himself on his feet. "I guess I better go, Ellen," he said.
"Yes, I guess you better," she said, in a tone of intimacy that angered Phillip again.
He poured a glass half full of scotch and added ice, then poured down a swallow. He looked from Ellen to Jennings, and drank again.
"Guess I'll run," Jennings said, and lurched across the room toward the door. "Good-day, Ellen, Phil-hp."
Clumsy fool, Phillip muttered, half aloud, and drained the scotch. Jennings disappeared, but Phillip heard him having difficulty opening the door.
Then the door slammed. Phillip poured scotch into the glass and walked over and sat beside Ellen on the couch.
She was sipping her martini, and staring at him with an open insolence. That will soon change in bed, he told himself as he put his arm around her.
"Let's not fight," he said, softly, and kissed her ear.
He took a deep swallow of scotch, then put the glass on the coffee table. He took the glass from Ellen's hands, and set it beside his.
Her lips were cold and firm when he kissed her. And her body was stiff. He pressed the kiss harder, but she would not open her mouth.
And when he lashed at her mouth with his tongue and ran a hand over her leg, she abruptly shoved him away, and scrambled up from the couch.
"Don't touch me," she hissed. She scooped up her glass, and walked over to the window.
"What the hell's wrong, Ellen?" he asked. "I'm sick of that bastard coming over here in the afternoon and getting drunk like this."
Ellen's harsh laugh cut through him and he swallowed. As she turned from the window, he felt her eyes would pierce him with their hatred.
"You crummy bastard," she said. "Don't come here and try treating me like this. What's wrong? Isn't your little coed available?"
The color drained from Phillip's face and he tried to speak, but words choked in his parched throat.
She took a step toward him. "What's wrong, my dear?" she asked, scorn lining her words. "Doesn't our glib, golden-voiced professor have anything to say?"
"What are you talking about?" he said, finally. And he turned and went to fix a drink.
"Yes my dear, have a quick drink, and another," she said. "You're going to need them."
"What do you mean about a coed?" he asked, and poured the scotch into a tight, churning stomach. "Don't make an accusation you'll regret, and can't prove."
"I don't have to prove anything," she snapped. "I'm convinced, PhUlip. You're having an affair with a girl named Jamie Williams. Shall I describe her for you?"
Phillip was afraid to say anything. His stomach churned, and he felt hot and weak as he slugged down the liquor. Then he walked across the room to Ellen.
"If you touch me, I'll scratch your eyes out," she said, and backed away.
"What makes you think I'm having an affair?" he asked.
"A telephone call convinced me, my dear," she said, and drank from her martini. "And I am convinced. There is no need for us to discuss it."
Phillip avoided her piercing eyes and asked himself who in hell could have called Ellen. Who in hell knew about the affair?
"Look, Ellen, we've got to talk about this," he said. "But how can we, when you're drunk like this, and unreasonable. Why did you get drunk with Jennings again?"
"As I said, we were celebrating," she said. "Carl has decided to take a very lucrative job in private industry and resign from the faculty."
"Christ, I don't believe it," Phillip said.
"Believe it or don't," she said, and shrugged. "He's leaving in a very short time. He's completely fed up with things on campus."
She finished her martini and put the empty glass on the window ledge. He stepped to her again, and was startled when she drew her hand back, as though she would hit him if he touched her.
"Ellen, listen," he said, and had no idea what he would say.
"No, you listen," she said. "There's nothing for us to talk about. Not now, at least. I'm going back to go to sleep and I'm locking the door. Later, when I feel better, we must talk. Perhaps tomorrow. But I have nothing more to say to you now, Phillip. Please don't come back, or I promise you there will be a scene you and the neighbors will be a long time in forgetting."
She walked past him, and out of the living room. Phillip dragged himself over and mixed another drink, still stunned by what was happening. He drank the scotch and warned himself not to push her now. But he swore that he would find out who informed on his affair with Jamie. And that he would somehow pacify Ellen, as he had always done in the past, until his promotion came through.
CHAPTER NINE
The deadly hangover slammed at Phillip, and he droned the lecture on, and felt the bell would never ring. And when it did, the ringing hammered into his aching head.
He gathered up his notes as the students filed from the room. Then he walked slowly out. There were a group of professors down the hall, and Phillip could not avoid them.
"Did you hear about Carl Jennings?" someone asked.
Phillip nodded, and listened to the talk. Everyone was obviously stunned. Not only that Jennings was taking a job in private industry, but that he was leaving in a week, without even finishing out the year.
But as Phillip dragged himself from the group, he immediately forgot Jennings. This morning, Ellen had told him she was leaving him. He had to hurry home and promise her something, anything, to keep her with him until his appointment came through.
He hurried to his office and tried again to reach Jamie. But she was out. So he headed for home, alternately cursing Ellen, and trying to think of some way to pacify her.
When he half ran up the walk to his house, he had decided the best thing was a good session in bed. And as he opened the door, he told himself he would get her into bed, if he had to drag her there.
But as he entered the house, he felt his confidence fading. Ellen was not in the living room, and he went back to the kitchen and she was not there either. He looked outside but as he returned to the house, a gnawing fear hit him, and he moved up the hallway to the bedroom with leaden steps.
When he stopped in the doorway, he nearly went limp. Ellen was there. And she was packing two large suitcases on the bed.
For a long, agonizing moment, he could not move, or even speak. He knew she had seen him but she did not speak as she cleaned out drawers and put clothes into the suitcases.
Stark fear was followed by hot anger, and then confusion swept his body. But still he stared dumbly, and knew he must do and say the right thing, or everything was lost.
"Ellen, I don't blame you," he said, and walked over to the bed.' "But you must give me a chance to defend myself against some nebulous telephone call. You must admit things have been better between us the past few days, and you must remember I suspended on the project, and that was damn important to me, and to my career."
She did not look at him. "Phillip, dear, I do believe you're babbling," she said.
"Ellen, I love you," he said, desperately. "I'll do anything to save our marriage. Let me explain about this girl you think I'm involved with."
Ellen carefully folded some slips and put them into a suitcase. "I have no desire at all to save our marriage," she said, in a flat, weary voice. "I do not love you. And I don't care about the girl."
"But if you understand about the girl, we can work things out," Phillip said.
"For all your education and intelligence, you can be amazingly dense at times," she said. "Can't you see that I don't care about the girl? I don't want to stay with you, Phillip. Your being involved with someone else really has nothing to do with it. I've put up with too much other abuse for too long."
"But you can't rush off like this, dammit," he said. And now he saw that her robe had fallen partially open, to reveal the lush, white breasts, and the smooth, slender thighs. And with all the fear and uneasiness, a surge of desire shot over him.
"Oh, but I can," she said. "I don't give a damn about your promotion, Phillip. It's of no concern to me. I'm leaving you. That's final, and there is nothing you can do about it."
Phillip screamed at himself that his talking was useless. He stepped to Ellen and put his hands on her waist. She tried to twist away, but he held her firmly, and shoved her back onto the bed.
"Bastard," she snarled, but he held her down, and mashed his lips over hers, while a hand shot up to cup a breast.
She beat at him with her fists, but he mashed the kiss harder, and squeezed the breast until he heard her groan.
"Bastard," she repeated, and then she fell limp, with her eyes closed.
Phillip forced her frigid lips open and mashed her breast, and his other hand raced over her leg, and onto her thigh. He felt his breath coming faster, and was surprised at how quickly he was getting aroused.
He kissed her fiercely, and pumped at her breasts and pinched her nipples, and his fingers skated over her smooth thighs. And still she did not respond.
He ripped her robe open, and started fumbling with his clothes, as his breath wheezed out, and his hands went wild on her body.
But when he fell to her, she suddenly curled her legs together, and opened her eyes. "Have you finished your rather pitiful seduction scene?" she asked. "I do have a lot of packing left."
"Ellen, I want you, please darling," he gasped, and tried to kiss her.
But she twisted her head away. "But I don't want you, darling," she said.
"Please Ellen," he begged.
With surprising strength, she shoved him from her body and bolted up. He lay panting and hot and stared at the tall, slim body displayed in the open robe.
"Save what ego you have left, and don't whine for me, Phillip," she said. "In two hours I'll be gone."
Phillip tore his eyes from her body, and got to his feet. His breathing still came in rushes, but he tried desperately to check the desire that cursed his body.
"You'll regret this, Ellen," he muttered. "And when you try to come back, you'll pay for it."
"Oh, don't be dramatic," she said, as she tied the cord that held the robe together.
"I'll make you pay," he said, and realized his voice was cracking.
"You won't make me pay any more than I've already paid," she said, and for the first time, her voice showed real emotion. "You think it's damaging to your career that your wife is leaving you. Well, if you give Carl and me any trouble, I'll see that the whole faculty knows about you and Miss Jamie Williams."
"You and Carl?" he asked, and felt someone had hit him in the pit of his stomach.
"For a learned man, you really are slow at times," she said. "Carl has been interested in me for a long time. But I thought I loved you, and tried desperately to save our marriage. But when I finally realized what a bastard you are, I also discovered I loved him."
"That awkward fool?" Phillip asked. "You must be joking, Ellen. If you're trying to hurt me, do a better job than that."
She put a handful of panties into the suitcase. "I'm not trying to hurt you, Phillip," she said. "I don't have enough feeling for you to try to hurt you. Can't you understand that?"
"When I get my hands on that skinny bastard," Phillip started.
"If you so much as speak to Carl, I'll go directly to Dr. Adams and tell him all about you and Jamie Williams," she said. "It's not your choice, my dear. I'm leaving you and going with Carl. I'm going to divorce you, and marry him. If you give us any trouble, your affair with the girl will be spread all over the campus."
Phillip started to speak, then checked himself. He felt totally defeated. And he knew Ellen would follow through with her threat. Suddenly, it was not a matter of saving his marriage to protect his promotion, but to try to keep his involvement with Jamie from getting back to the faculty.
"Who in hell told you about my affair with Jamie Williams?" he blurted.
Ellen smiled. "So now you admit it?" she said. "Well, quite obviously, Miss Williams told me about it herself."
"Jamie told you?" he asked.
Ellen smiled again. "Phillip, you look like a man who could use a drink. Why don't you let me finish packing, and you go up and fix yourself a nice double scotch?"
Without a word, Phillip turned and left the room. But he did not stop in the living room for a drink. He walked out of the house and down the walk to the car.
He sat there, his hand frozen on the starter. He could kill Jamie for being so stupid as to call Ellen. Yet, despite the threat to his promotion, the fact she tried to break up his marriage could only mean she was as obsessed with' him as he was with her.
As he drove toward the campus, he realized that he was more interested in possessing Jamie, in making love to her each day, than in his promotion, or anything else in his life.
Now he would track her down, and resolve something with her. But he knew that what he wanted to resolve was marriage, was having her as his woman, every minute and every hour of every day.
A frustrating hour later, he could not locate her. He had called her dormitory three times, and checked the places students went for coffee, and even gone to the registrar's office for her schedule. But she had cut the economics class she had this period, and was free for the rest of the day.
Then he thought of the library, and hurried there. She was not downstairs in any of the rooms, so he took the elevator up to the stacks. Another hour passed, and he could not locate her.
He rejected the idea of going into town for a drink, and finally walked over to the Liberal Arts Building, and told himself he would keep trying to call her dormitory.
Phillip dragged himself down the corridor, alternately thinking of Jamie and trying to decide what to tell Dr. Adams about the abrupt break-up of his marriage.
When he opened the door to his office and saw Jamie sitting there, he gasped. "I've been searching the campus for you," he said, and stared openly at her lush body in the tight, red blouse and skirt.
"But I wanted to see you here, which is more private than the library or the snack bar or my dorm," she said, and stood up.
They went into the inner office, and he locked the door. She walked primly across the room though she seemed to sway her buttocks just a bit excessively. As usual, when she sat in the straight-back chair, her skirt rode high on her golden thighs and she did not smooth it down.
Phillip sat in his swivel-chair, and glanced at the thigh beneath the red skirt, and then past the surging red-encased breasts to her full lips and brilliant eyes.
"Why in hell did you do a stupid thing like calling Ellen?" he asked, but did not look away from her body.
"There was nothing stupid about it, not from my standpoint," she said, and smiled prettily. "I wanted to break you and your wife up, and that seemed the most direct and effective way."
"It sure as hell was effective," he said. "But it was still stupid, dammit. Don't you realize I'm up for promotion to professor, and a separation can ruin everything for me?"
She shrugged. "I'm afraid I'm not in the mood for a lecture," she said. "I get far too many in class as it is."
"Something has happened to you in the past week," Phillip said. "You've hardened or something, Jamie. We've got to talk about this, and other things, before we talk about our future, or marriage, or anything."
"Marriage?" she asked, and shook her head. "Baby, marriage is the last thing on earth I'm interested in. Our future, now, that's something different."
"You're talking in riddles," he said. "If you don't want to marry me, then why did you call Ellen? Jamie, you know how much I'm obsessed with you. Having you is more important than anything on earth."
She twisted in the chair, and her skirt was drawn higher over her thighs, and Phillip stared and licked his lips.
"Yes, Phillip, I know how obsessed you are with me," she said. "And I know you want me very much. And you can have me, sweetie. If you can meet my price."
The smile on the edges of her lips mocked and taunted him. And his stomach went hollow.
"What do you mean?" he asked, his throat raw.
"I'm a student only as a blind," she said. "I'm not nineteen or twenty, as you may think, but twenty-five. And my dear Phillip, I am what is known in my circle as a hooker, and in your circles as a prostitute."
His stomach tightened and he went cold, and doubled his hands into fists. Surely, she was playing some bizarre joke, he told himself desperately. But when he looked into her mocking smile, everything fell into place.
"I discovered the role of an innocent, young student was a perfect blind," she said. "And by now, I have enough members of the faculty and staff hooked on me to insure that I am not arrested or exposed. That is the way it is, pure and simple."
"You filthy little bitch," he muttered.
Her smile vanished. "Phillip, be careful how you talk to me," she said. "I like you, and we can work out a satisfactory arrangement, if you have the money. But don't try to abuse me. Or I'll make you pay dearly."
Phillip's world collapsed inside him, and he went hot and cold, and then shoved his chair back and stood up, a choking rage consuming him.
Jamie stood up also, and she only smiled. "If you try to hit me, I'll make you pay double, when you come crawling to me, Phillip," she said. "And you want me so badly you'll pay anything or do anything to have me. And we both know that."
Phillip had started to slap her, but he checked himself. On top of his trouble with Ellen, anything with Jamie would be fatal, he warned himself.
He knew he was too upset to think clearly. He had to get this little bitch out of here and have something to drink, and try to put the pieces together.
"I think you better go," he said. "We can talk later."
"There's nothing really to discuss, is there?" she asked. "Except money. But if you want to think about things, well, allright. But meet me tomorrow night at seven-thirty, at our usual place. Don't be foolish, and not show up. Or Phillip, dear, you'll be sorry."
"Are you threatening me?" he asked, weakly.
She did not answer. But suddenly, she unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off. Phillip stared at the huge breasts straining against the lacy, black bra, and he remembered the touch of the breasts and nipples, she unzipped her skirt and tugged it off.
Jamie stood in black, bikini-panties, her hands on her hips and looked at him with obvious delight. He swallowed and licked his lips and cursed her. But he stepped to the body displayed in bra and panties.
He stared dumbly and his heart raced. That magnificent body, honey-toned body young and smooth and warm, accentuated by thin, lacy black bra and panties.
His hands trembled as he reached for her. But she smiled and stepped back. "Hand me my blouse and skirt, Phillip," she said, her voice firm and confident.
He stared a final moment, then bent down and scooped up her clothes and handed them to her. And he watched her dress, and knew that at whatever cost, he would see her tomorrow night.
She finished dressing, and turned, then stepped back to him. She kissed his cheek, then his lips, very softly.
"I'm quite expensive, as you'll discover," she said. "When you meet me tomorrow night, bring lots of money."
Then she was gone, her little buttocks flowing beneath the tight, red skirt as she walked from the office.
Phillip sat down in his chair. His breath was warm and wheezing, and his heart raced and he felt weak and sick. He cursed Jamie, and cursed his weakness in getting hooked on her.
He lit a pipe with trembling fingers, and told himself he was not so weak as to see this little whore tomorrow night, and that he would somehow salvage his career and everything he wanted.
And the next moment, he was smoking his pipe, and thinking of that golden body in black bra and panties, and remembering the ways that body could please him.
CHAPTER TEN
The next day, Phillip awoke with a start, and jerked his hand over to feel for Ellen. But, of course, she was gone.
He rolled over and shielded his eyes from the sunlight with his hand. His damn wife had walked out on him while he was on campus yesterday. She had not even told him good-bye.
He bolted up and from the bed and ran into the bathroom. He shook his throbbing head, and ran cold water and splashed it on his face. Christ, he should not have had so much to drink, he told himself.
He had thought it would clear his thoughts and let him make a plan, something to salvage his career now that his wife was leaving him. But he knew by now that word of her leaving would have spread across the campus.
Then as he stared at the speckles of beard and his puffy face and red eyes, he remembered Jamie. Just yesterday he had thought of marrying her. And then she had told him she was a prostitute.
He doubled his right hand into a fist, and slammed it into the wall. The pain soared through the hand, and into the arm, and he dug his nails into the fist. He swore to himself that at least he would not be weak enough to see her again.
He brushed his teeth and shaved quickly, his mind racing now, his stomach tight and queasy, both from worry and the hangover. Then he gulped down a cup of day-old coffee, and raced from the house.
He hesitated as he climbed into his car. He dreaded returning to the campus more than anything on earth. But it was something he had to face, and he knew delaying it would only make matters worse. And as he switched on the ignition, he told himself that he had to get to Dr. Adams quickly, and make some kind of excuse, somehow get the old bastard's sympathy so his appointment would not be delayed.
He drove slowly, and tried to think, but the results were all the same: his wife had left him, to go with another professor. Which, of course, implied that they had been having an affair. Adams would be livid.
Then Phillip thought of Carl Jennings. The bastard must still be on campus. Rage soared through him, and he thought of hunting Jennings down and beating the hell out of him. Then he remembered Ellen's threat to expose his affair with Jamie.
He turned a corner, and thought of Jamie. The little bitch had really set him up. And there was no doubt that he was obsessed with her. He asked himself how many men must have fallen for her little-girl act and big-girl body, and paid dearly for it.
Well, he would not be one of them, he chanted to himself. There were enough attractive women on campus to keep him busy, including coeds, if he wanted them.
But as he parked in front of the Liberal Arts Building, he was thinking of that lovely, young body displayed in his office-golden body in tiny black bra and panties. And he climbed from the car and remembered the touch of her lips and tongue, and the feel of her heaving breasts and warm thighs.
Come to your senses, he screamed to himself as he walked up the steps.
And he came quickly to his senses when he came upon a couple of professors standing outside a classroom. They spoke politely, but there was no mistaking the curious way they acted.
He went warm, and nodded, and hurried down the hall. Students spoke, and he was certain they were smiling as they talked about him. He was actually thankful when he reached Dr. Adams' office.
But the look his secretary gave Phillip made him wither. She stared at him a long moment, her eyes thin, her mouth set, her head held up just a bit in obvious judgement.
Phillip knew then that all was lost with Adams, and when the old bitch kept him waiting a quarter of an hour before she even told Adams he was there, he did not get angry, only more apprehensive.
"You can go in now," she said abruptly.
Phillip got slowly to his feet and dragged himself over to the door. He knocked, then opened the door, his mind raced for some lie or promise that could save his promotion.
But when he entered the office and saw the way Adams looked up from his desk at him, his heart sank. Adams did not even ask him to sit down.
"This is terrible," he said. "The dean has been on the phone three times already this morning. Nothing like this has ever happened in our department before."
"Let me explain," Philip said weakly. "Perhaps there are things you don't know, Dr. Adams."
"The facts seem obvious, Dr. Marcus," Adams snapped. "Your wife has been having an affair with another member of the faculty. Now this man is leaving the University with no notice, and she is going with him."
"I didn't know," Phillip said. And immediately felt foolish.
"I find that hard to believe," Adams said. "But it's unimportant. The point is that this disgraceful thing has happened, and made a laughing stock out of the history faculty. How will you be able to face your students, and maintain any respect or dignity?"
Phillip knew with a deadening finality that nothing he could say would change Adams' attitude. "What's to happen now?" he asked.
Adams shrugged. "You'll have to continue with your classes, of course," he said. "We're understaffed as it is. For the rest of the semester, and probably the summer."
"But my services will be terminated after the summer?" Phillip asked.
"You're fortunate you can stay on that long," Adams said.
"If I may say so, this seems a bit drastic," Phillip said. "All right, I understand your attitude about Ellen and her affair, the scandal. But how in the hell could I have stopped it?"
"There is one other thing," Adams said. "And I was just going to discuss it with you. I had an unsigned note yesterday telling me that you were involved with someone, Dr. Marcus. If I hear the slightest rumor that this affair is continuing, you will be dropped immediately."
"My God, who in hell am I supposed to be involved with?" he asked.
"The note did not specify anyone, except to say it was a woman in town," Adams said. "If it were a coed, you'd be dropped immediately."
"Dr. Adams, how can you believe some note...."
"Good morning, Dr. Marcus," Dr. Adams said, and picked up some papers and started reading them.
Phillip stood a moment, as his legs went rubbery, and his stomach knotted. Then he pivoted and left the room, and walked quickly past the secretary and out into the hall.
And he moved rapidly down the hall, and into his office, thankful he did not encounter anyone else he knew. He went into the inner office, and slammed the door.
He paced the office, as his thoughts whirled, and he tried to salvage something from the shambles of his life and his career. But though he knew he stood in disgrace on the campus, and that he could only stagger through the academic year in his present position, and then must get some other post, obviously without the recommendation of the present faculty, he could not keep his thoughts on this problem.
He kept thinking of Jamie, and visions of her lush, lovely body in his classes and in the library, and in his car, as he made wild, searing love to her. And in his office, mocking and hard, as she stripped to bra and panties.
He stared from the window and chanted to himself that at least he would not let himself fall into this final degradation. He sure as hell would not see her again.
He turned and picked up his pipe, and lit it, then sat down and forced himself to think of his future, of his career, and what he must do to try to get a decent job next year, so that he would not wind up at some junior college.
But as he leaned back and smoked, he thought only of Jamie, interrupting his visions of her ripe body with oaths that he would not meet her tonight and get dragged into her sordid world.
