Chapter 6

Mom was smiling a secret little smile as we came into the kitchen.

I can never get anything past her.

"Hungry?" she asked us.

"Well..." I said.

"I've already had a bit to eat, Mrs. Wilson," Debbie said cheekily, "but I wouldn't mind a bit more..." Only I could see the wink Debbie gave me.

"Can I help?" I asked Mom.

She had it under control, and ten minutes later she had breakfast in front of us. Mom's great.

As we were eating, I brought both Mom and Debbie up to date on my conversation with Barb.

"So you're going to try to catch up with me, are you?" Debbie asked.

"Well... yeah," I said. Was that a problem?

Saved by the bell. The phone rang. I picked it up, "Hello?"

It turned out to be Dad's attorney. "Hey Michael. Thought you'd like to know. We had another charge on the card. This time in a place called Port Orange. In Florida. At a public marina. An automated fuel pump."

"Any way to identify Dad or his boat?" I asked.

"Well. They're checking, but they don't think they have anything that will help us. But..."

"Yeah," I said.

"Looks like he might be in Florida..."

"Thanks," I said.

He promised to call if anything more turned up, and then we hung up. Was Dad dead, or was Dad in Florida? Is there actually a difference? Shit.

I sat back down, and told Mom and Debbie what had happened... and what we didn't know.

Barb's office was small, overflowing with books and journals, and tucked into Ross Hall — the former women's dorm that now housed (among other departments) the Math Department.

I was set to knock, when Debbie just opened the door and walked in. "Hi Mom!"

"Hi Debbie, Michael," Barb said. "I was beginning to wonder where you were..." She smiled. "But then I remembered Debbie saying she was going to wake you up."

I blushed. "Hi... Barb."

Debbie and Barb laughed.

"So here we are," Barb finally started. "Faculty advisor, student advisor, and advisee." We all smiled. "Quite the first semester you put together, Michael. And that's ignoring your conquest of my daughter."

I laughed.

She turned to Debbie. "Deb, how is his math — really? Pretend you don't have a personal attachment."

"Well," Debbie said, biting her lip in a cute way, "he bobbled at the beginning of Calc — but you know how Rodgers is. After he got the hang of doing it, in spite of the instructor, he just took off. He asked some questions, but..." She smiled at me. "He got it a lot faster than some..."

Barb looked into the folder she had on her desk. "I called a couple of your other instructors," she said. "They tell me you took the time to do the work right, even though you could have got the grade without making the effort. They liked that."

Barb sat back and looked at me.

We were all quiet. I glanced at Debbie, and she was carefully not looking at me.

"Here's the deal, Michael," Barb said. "If we put you into too many classes, we run the risk of burning you out. If we don't challenge you, we run the risk of your getting bored, and either leaving, or just coasting...

"I don't want to overload you with fluff courses, either. In Math, you're already scheduled for Calc two. I'm going to add you to one of my sections for matrixes, and I'm going to get you into something... hmm." She paged through the catalog.

"Any idea on that minor?" she asked.

"Well. I was sort of thinking something in computers?"

"Gardner has an open section in computational algorithms... how does that sound?"

Before too long, we'd worked out a re-write to my schedule that had me working a lot harder second semester than I had first.

"Deb," Barb said. "Could you step out for a second so I can talk to Michael for a minute, and then we can head out for lunch?"

Debbie smiled at me, got up, and closed the door behind her.

"Okay Michael," Barb said. "This new schedule is going to be tough. You know that?"

"I do. Thanks for giving me a shot..."

"If it gets to be too much, you let me know. I won't tell Debbie, and I wont judge you. You may have a few things to prove to me — but not in the class room, do you understand?"

"Yes I do. Thanks," I said.

"And, when we're in class, you aren't Michael, my daughter's boyfriend. You're Mr. Wilson and I'm Professor Alexander. That will help us keep it straight. Okay?"

It was. And I was her daughter's boyfriend. We got up, collected Debbie, and went out for lunch. Barb took us to Lovejoy's Bar & Grill. 101 Grand Avenue. (Yes, that is a shameless plug.) Lunch was great.

Barb dropped us back by at Jeep, and Debbie and I drove over to her house.

"Well," I said as we pulled up. "Here we are."

Debbie looked at me. "And?"

"And your Mom's at work?"

"And?"

"And I should come in so you can show me your sock collection?" I guessed.

"I don't have a sock collection," Debbie informed me, unbuckling her seat belt.

"Rare stamps?"

"Got a few, don't know where they are." Debbie climbed out of the Jeep. I followed her.

"Antiques?"

"In Wyoming?" Debbie asked, opening the front door.

Point. "Uh... Undergarment collection?"

"Just a few, you're welcome to check..." Debbie was in her bedroom, with me right behind. She kicked off her shoes.

I reached for her, drawing her back against my chest, giving her a hug, one hand on each breast. "Can I start here?"

"Mmmm," Debbie said.

I reached down to the hem, and pulled her shirt up and off. Debbie helped by raising her arms.

"Damn," I said.

"Damn?"

"No undergarments," I explained, cupping each warm, firm breast and tickling the nipples.

"Ahhh."

I kissed her neck for a while, playing with two handfuls of heaven. Slowly, carefully, I slid my hands down her taut stomach to her jeans. "Anything under here?" I asked.

"I'm not telling," Debbie told me.

I unsnapped and unzipped, kissing her neck and nibbling her earlobe. "I'll find out for myself," I told her.

"You do that," Debbie murmured.

I slowly worked the denim off her hips, over the swell of her butt, and down her long, long thighs. I knelt behind her, pushing them down, and helping her get them off her feet. "Found some," I informed her. I kissed the back of her thigh right where the silky pink panties ended, and the soft pink flesh began.

"Mmmm!" Debbie said.

I slipped my fingers under the waistband, and slowly drew the panties down. Revealing a work of art.

I noticed I was shaking again. I stood up, and pulled a delightfully naked Debbie into a hug. "I can't believe how lucky I am to be here," I told her. Then I kissed her.

And kissed her.

Debbie wrapped her arms tightly around me, licking and sucking my tongue, letting me play with hers.

I eventually released her long enough to draw a ragged breath, and lead, push, and follow Debbie to her bed. I kissed her neck, a nipple, and the point of her hip, but I was focused a bit lower. I pulled Debbie's legs apart, lay between them, her thighs resting on my shoulders, and did my best to consume Debbie's passion with my own.

I licked.

I sucked.

I wiggled fingers into tight places.

I caressed slick places.

I found her clitoris, and worshiped it.

Somewhere along the way, Debbie reached down and grasped my head, pulling me tightly to her sweet pussy, urging me on with moans, grunts, groans...

"Ahhh!" Debbie shouted "Ohhh!"

"More!" I told her, pulling her clitoris in between my lips.

"OhhhOhhhAhhh!"

I sucked harder, I licked and I kissed.