Chapter 4

Perhaps because she was young, and had less life experience to warn her of possible complications, or how messy life can get with little or no warning, Kendra accepted this sea change in both of their lives with an equanimity that Bob could only be envious of. An argument could be made that it was less disruptive to her psyche than his. The young feel bullet proof, while those who are older bear the scars of previous injury, and know how vulnerable the shell of flesh we inhabit really is.

Or, maybe Bob just couldn't believe his luck.

For whatever reason, when he woke the next morning in bed with a warm female next to him, and opened his eyes to see her serene, sleeping face, surrounded by tousled blond hair, and realized they were still naked, he was afraid to move, lest he actually wake up from this wonderful dream.

Then, he experienced something so simple and basic that it grounded him instantly.

Her soft breath in his face smelled awful.

Knowing that his own probably smelled equally objectionable, he rolled away from her and sat up on the edge of the bed. He blinked several times, and then rubbed at his eyes with his fingers, feeling her move behind him.

"Morning," she said, her voice slurred. "Do you still love me in the cold light of day?"

"Desperately," he sighed, not turning around. All he wanted at the moment was to relieve his bladder and brush his teeth. It occurred to him that he couldn't offer her a toothbrush. He wasn't used to guests staying the night.

"Come back to bed," she said, letting sharp fingernails trail over his back.

"I have morning breath," he said.

"Ugh. I probably do too," she said.

He didn't confirm her guess. Things were awkward enough already.

"Shit!" she yipped, bouncing up onto her knees. "What time is it? I have class!"

That got him moving. He hit the bathroom first, thinking he'd get finished and get out so she could take over. He sat on the commode, which was his usual method of dealing with morning wood, and looked up to see her standing there, cool as a cucumber, leaning against the door jamb watching him.

"Don't you dare get scared on me," she said.

"Why would you say that?" he asked, trying to make his pee as silent as possible.

"Because most single men, when faced with commitment, tend to fade fast," she commented.

"You don't have to worry about me," he said, wondering how to stand up without exposing himself to her. Then again, she was completely exposed, gloriously naked and unashamed of it. Finally he gave up and simply stood. She brushed by him and sat. She didn't have a problem with splashing, apparently.

He remembered a little packet the dentist had given him at his last checkup, and bent to look under the sink for it. He spied it and reached in. The plastic zippered bag held a toothbrush, tiny tube of tooth paste, and floss. When he stood up and she saw it, she smiled widely.

"I knew you'd be a good catch," she said, reaching for it.

"I'm still having trouble believing I've been caught," he said, feeling a little more confident.

"Oh, you're caught," she said. "You have no idea how long I've been looking for the right guy."

"I bet I do," he said. "I'm forty-two. I've been looking for a woman twenty years longer than you've been looking for a man."

"Only because all the women around here are blind," she said.

"I'd like to talk about that ... at length," he said.

"You'll have to wait. I have to get to class, and I don't even have time to take a shower. I'll have to wear the same thing I seduced you in last night. I guess I can go home after class and clean up and change clothes."

He stood there, unable to think of anything to say. Finally, when his stomach grumbled, he asked, "Do you want something to eat before you go?"

"Make me a peanut butter sandwich," she said. "I'll eat it on the run."

Then she was past him, searching for the clothes she'd tossed all over the place the night before. He put on shorts from habit and padded to the kitchen. He was mating the two halves of the sandwich, thinking about how perfectly they fit together, and how disparate he and his lover - did he dare call her that?! - were, when she reached around him and snatched it out of his fingers. She turned him bodily and kissed him soundly. He smelled the peppermint of the toothpaste she had used, and held his breath. He'd forgotten completely to brush his own teeth.

"When will I see you again?" he gasped, as she turned to leave.

She looked over her shoulder. A more come hither look he had never seen in his life.

"Tonight, of course, silly. I'm still coming to work."

"Oh! Okay," he said, but he said it to a door that was closing.

His day was strange, to say the least. Everything looked so normal and the things that happened were so routine that it was even harder to maintain the illusion that a fantastically hot, amazingly sexy, incredibly young woman had seduced him the evening before. She'd actually said she seduced him, so that part wasn't his imagination.

He felt so unsure of things that after his last class, he rode his bike over to the gym. Standing back from the open doors to the basketball court, where he hoped he couldn't be seen, he peered through the doors at the cheerleaders, cavorting, jumping, doing the splits and so on. By some undetectable signal, they all gathered and lined up. A female voice said something he couldn't understand, and then stridently called out, "O-Kay!" Then they did a routine that, to Bob's eyes, looked flawless. But the head cheerleader, a girl he knew was named Tiffany, said, "No, no, no. That was sloppy. Do it again!"

His eyes lingered on Kendra, who lined up with the rest. As the okay command was given once more, she leapt into action, stepping, stomping, whirling, and waving her arms. Again, to Bob, she looked like she was doing exactly what the others were doing, perfectly. Movement in his peripheral vision caused him to look away, and he saw a group of young men coming his way. He didn't want to be observed gawking at the cheerleaders, so he turned and moved away from them.

He got on his bike, and because he couldn't think of anywhere else to go, returned to his office, where he sat, fidgeting, looking at the clock constantly, unable to do any work.

Right on time, she burst through the door of his office and dropped her gym bag. She was still wearing what he'd seen her practicing in.

"I can shower at your place later ... right?" she asked, arching one eyebrow.

"Sure," he said, as a relief washed through him so palpable that he felt weak.

"I don't want to take anything for granted," she said. "I don't want to take you for granted."

"If you taking me for granted is the worst thing that happens to me this decade, then I'm in pretty good shape," he quipped.

"Awww, you're sweet." She crossed to her desk and sat down. She gave him a level gaze. "But no sex until we get our work done."

"Like I could possibly get any work done while thinking about what might happen later," he said.

"What will happen later, but only if we get some work done," she argued. "You must exert some control, Bob. I'm depending on you to do that. If you don't, all we'll do is fuck like bunnies, because I won't be able to resist you. I know you have a pair, a really nice pair, in fact, but you need to be able to use them for more than just knocking me up. Capisce?"

"I didn't know you were Italian," he said.

"I'm not. I just like that word and almost never get to say it. Are we good?"

"We're good. You couldn't get me to make a move on you now for love nor money."

She stood up and pulled her sweat-stained top up to expose her breasts.

"Wanna suck my nipples?" she asked, sweetly.

"That's not fair, and you know it."

"You're the one who threw out the challenge."

"Put those away!" he barked. "Somebody could walk in here any second."

"Good boy," she cooed, pulling her shirt back down. "Two hours of work. Then we can play."

"Yes, my queen," said Bob, gravely.

"I like that," she said, and then turned to her work.

There was something about knowing it wasn't all just a flashback because of a former bad acid trip that calmed him. It was still surreal but he was finally, tentatively, beginning to trust that he wasn't being punked, and that for whatever incredible, unbelievable reasons this girl was attracted to him, that attraction was real. At least for the present. That she would someday tire of him and move on, most likely to a younger, fitter, more virile man, he assumed was inevitable. But he would ride this rollercoaster as long as he could stay on it.

And so he was actually able to concentrate on sorting Doctor Eldridge's legacy. He noticed that she needed nowhere near the amount of "assistance" she had previously required, and pondered how she had been telling the truth about seducing him. She'd used those naked breasts he'd kept sneaking peeks at to ensnare him, and he'd been none the wiser until he was firmly caught in her web. He had no trouble envisioning her as a spider who could weave such a web. He was just still amazed that she'd woven it to catch him!

She finally stood up and said, "Ugh. I stink."

He returned with, "I doubt that very much."

She laughed. "I forgot sweaty women turn you on."

"Not sweaty women," he corrected. "Just sweaty you."

"How romantic. Somehow, I thought a man with a doctorate in Elizabethan poetry would be all flowery when he complimented me, but what do I get?" She lowered her voice, trying to sound male. "Hey, sweet tits, get sweaty for me and let's do the bump ugly." She grinned.

He walked over to her and took her hands.

"I don't want to be crass, but I'm aflame for you right now. I've been hard, off and on, all day long, because I've thought about you all day long. This afternoon, while you were at practice, I couldn't stay away. I had to see you ... confirm that you're real. I went to the gym and peeked through the doors at you."

The smile slowly left her face, and her eyes became serious as he went on.

"When I said this morning that I'm desperately in love with you, it was true. I truly am desperate. You have opened a doorway that I never anticipated I'd even see, much less pass through. I cannot in good conscience claim that I believe your interest in me will stand the test of time, but I am willing to endure the crushing blow that your eventual abandonment will be to me, should it come. It will be worth the pain of your loss, to experience even one more taste of your lips. It would be worth even more for another night with you. You have already made my life so much more complete than I could ever have dreamed of, that I can only beg to be able to thank you for the gift of your attention. I am your slave. You are, in fact, my queen, and I would move mountains for you, should it please you. It matters not if you are dripping perspiration, or freshly bathed. Being chained to Ben Hur's chariot couldn't keep me away from you."

To him, it was a dismally poor attempt to express his feelings, but he saw her eyes go soft, and her lower lip quiver. He felt a little foolish. His next words weren't planned, and later he'd wonder why he ever said such a stupid thing.

"Now, let's go get sweaty and do the bump ugly," he said.

Her reaction was all he could have hoped for. She crushed her body to his, hugging him tightly.

"You just got yourself laid, professor. Have you ever fucked a girl on your desk?" she whispered in his ear.