Chapter 2: Faculty Affairs

Eventually, I went off to college, and while I didn’t know it at the time, that was the end of my sexual relationship with my father. It took me a while to start thinking about boys. Like I said, I don’t think about sex all the time, and I usually have to start getting physical before I get into the mood to have sex. So when I arrived on campus, I didn’t immediately start looking for boys. I focused on classes and making friends, and not having sex didn’t bother me in the slightest. Plus, I still thought I was with Dad, and while there was no spoken pact of monogamy, I just wasn’t all that interested in finding someone new.

My lack of sex didn’t bother me. Except that the fact that I wasn’t bothered by it bothered me. Everyone else around me seemed obsessed with hooking up, so the fact that I wasn’t made me feel weird. So one weekend in early November I decided that I should try and get laid. My dorm was having a party, and that seemed like a good opportunity to hook up with some guy. There was keg, so I had a couple of beers, took a few hits from someone’s bong, and went looking for a cute guy.

The guy I met was Zach. He was good looking, with a nice bod and a cute butt. He was a junior and in a fraternity. He started chatting me up, and before you know it, he was asking me if I wanted to go someplace private and leading me back to his frat house. I wasn’t really feeling it yet, except that I knew that I should be feeling it.

We got to his room, and as soon as the door was closed, we kissed. His teeth banged against mine, and I could feel him trying to unbutton my jeans. I stopped him and pushed him back onto his bed and slipped out of my jeans myself. His eyes were blazing. Then I climbed on top of him, and we started to kiss. Immediately, he started trying to take off my top, and my blouse got tangled up with my chin and mouth. Again I stopped him and took my blouse off myself. He reached around and tried to undo my bra, and after a few moments of fumbling I had to do that too. I started to kiss him again, but he started to take off his pants and underwear.

He was already hard, and his cock popped up as soon as it was freed from its cloth restraints. I was a bit disappointed in its size—in retrospect, it wasn’t all that small; I was just spoiled by dad’s big member, the only other one I had ever seen. By this point, I figured kissing wasn’t going to happen, so I knelt down before him and took his cock into my mouth. I got in a few good sucks before he grabbed me, maneuvered me onto the bed. He produced a condom from somewhere; I think it was from a jar next to the bed. He opened the packet, put it on, and climbed on top of me.

I could feel his cockhead trying to find my vagina, and he started pushing into me. I wasn’t really wet, and it hurt. But once he was inside it felt better; there’s nothing better than having a man inside you. He started thrusting back and forth, and I moved to match his rhythm It was just starting to feel good, when I felt him stiffen and moan. He came.

He shriveled, slipped out of me, and collapsed beside me.

“Was it good?”

I smiled and nodded. I didn’t know what else to do.

He put his arm around me and started half-heartedly cuddling. That at least was halfway pleasurable. In a minute he was asleep.

I slipped out of his embrace, dressed, and went back to my dorm. I didn’t exactly swear off college boys at that moment, but I did resolve that would be the last time I went looking for it.

A couple of weeks later I went home for Thanksgiving and discovered that Dad had a girlfriend, Amanda. I was cockblocked by her. Or should that be pussyblocked? Then when I came back at Christmas break, I found out that Amanda was moving in. So that was the end of the incestuous part of my sex life. That wasn’t a bad thing, though. Amanda was good for Dad. He had cleaned up his act. He was smoking a lot less weed, and he managed to keep a job. Overall, she was a really good influence. And I liked her. Amanda and I aren’t close, but we get along just fine. She doesn’t know that my dad and I used to sleep together; I think she would be out of there in an instant if she did.

It was good that we stopped. As I’ve said, I wasn’t harmed by it. But sleeping with your dad is kind of weird. And to tell the truth, I didn’t miss the sex so much as I missed being in his arms and feeling the warmth of his skin against mine.

So I returned to campus, a new semester, and a new work-study job that was part of my financial aid package. It was a research assistant position with a history professor, Mark Scott. When I first met him, I was struck by how physically similar he was to Dad. He was the same height, same shaved head, same blue eyes. But Professor Scott was a bit softer in the middle. Not that he was fat, he just had a dad bod. No one would mistake them for twins, but you might momentarily mix them up if they were sitting together in a dark bar.

One of the first tasks he set me to was creating a bibliography for his current research project. I sat in his office with a computer, a stack of books, and a file folder filled with PDFs of journal articles. I was to enter them all into a database, which would generate a bibliography. It was kind of fun at first, as I learned what information was required and where to find it in the books and files, but soon it became very repetitive and dull.

While I worked, he sat at his desk reading, writing, and grading papers. Then on the third day he stood up and walked over to me.

“How is it going, Riley? Any problems?”

“No, I’ve done all the books, and I’m plugging away at the journal articles.”

“Good. Let me take a look.”

He leaned over my shoulder. I could smell his cologne and feel the warmth of his cheek, only an inch from mine. He reached around and put his hand over mine, which was on the computer’s mouse. He moved and clicked the mouse, my hand under his, looking at a number of the database entries I had created. I felt that warmth in my loins that signaled sexual desire. My legs involuntarily closed.