Everyone tells of his or her college days, and of the friends they made during that important time in their life. For me, my college days will always be fondly remembered as a time of growing. I also met the man who was almost a second father to me, and who greatly influenced my time at school. He was a professor whom I first met during my sophomore year; and later Patrick O'Brien was my mentor, faculty advisor and senior thesis reviewer. I owe him a lot, even up to how I met the women in my life.

I guess I should flash back to the beginning though, and take everyone through the years that brought me here. I'm Allen Scott, a former student of electrical and mechanical engineering, specializing in power generation using tidal or wave forces. I had heard all the talk of coming up with clean and green energy and thought that if someone could capture the forces involved in bringing the tides in, a great amount of energy might be converted for human use. The classes have been a struggle and the research worse, but when I first set foot on campus at State, I had no idea what I was getting into.

And I was not much to look at when I first arrived. I never had a huge amount of physical talent, so instead of going out for sports, I led the chess club, and participated in speech and debate contests in high school. I was a skinny, acne covered, eighteen year old my freshman year. I only stand five foot seven, and often manage to disappear in a crowd.

As with most college freshmen in engineering, I concentrated on getting many of the basic classes out of the way, so that I would have later semesters to concentrate on engineering. It was a lonely year for me, as I was very awkward socially and did not get along well with my roommate in the dorms.

It was in the fall semester of my sophomore year that things started to improve. Professor Patrick O'Brien had the dubious pleasure of being the official professor for the Introduction to Power Generation class I was taking. Of course, his graduate student instructors were conducting most of the instruction, but as he was the professor in charge, I used his office hours to wrangle an introduction to him. He is a loud and friendly man, who dearly loves tinkering with power turbines, and what I had only hoped would be a short meeting that I would use to introduce myself ended up becoming an invite to lunch and a three hour argument over the best way to mount a turbine for use in a hydro-electric plant. I can still remember Professor's closing words. "You are one of the most contrary, and annoying students I can imagine. And you also happen to be right this time. I need someone like you to help me with my research project. It might eat into your study time, but I can make you a paid assistant."

I enthusiastically agreed, and Professor O'Brien arranged to meet me at the lab the next day. That night I called home and spent more than an hour telling my parents all about the wonderful opportunity I had fallen into.

The next day, I met Professor O'Brien at his small power lab. He had taken on a research grant to improve the efficiency of the standard windmill turbine. A major power company wanted to set up some windmills, but the currently available models provided too little power in the swirling and varied winds of the canyon where they wanted to place the windfarm. They needed an improved design, one that could maintain production despite the varying conditions.

The problem quickly proved to be one with the design of the windcatching system rather than centering on the turbine. It was a slow Friday afternoon, and I was thinking upon the problem of the shifting winds, when I realized that what we needed was a way to guarantee that the wind would always hit the blades at an angle to make them spin. I realized that turning the windmill vertical so that the blades were parallel to the ground would remove the problem regarding the wind direction, and soon Professor O'Brien's team was deeply involved in drafting a design fitting that configuration. I mostly was involved in tweaks of the turbine attachments at this point, but the team was very appreciative of my idea, and gave me credit for it when it was time to write out a patent application.

By the end of the semester it was clear that the project was nearly complete, and I expected to return to concentrating on my classes. Professor O'Brien had other ideas, as I was to find out on the final Friday before finals. "Hey Allen, good job all semester in here," he said as I prepared to leave. "You willing to keep working in the lab?"

"I thought the project was almost done," I replied.

Professor O'Brien smiled. "This one sure, but there are always new projects to work on. I have a choice of an improved hydroelectric system, which won't require dams, or I can stretch my skills and try solar. I figured that the hydro plant might be perfect for you, considering how you got this job."

I laughed. "Well, I've learned a lot in here, but I can't let it cut too deeply into my class and study time. I do want a good job when I graduate."

Professor just smiled. "Work hard in the lab, and that job might be easy to find. I'll let the university know you'll be continuing next semester. And don't forget, there is a post-semester party I throw for all my lab workers after finals. I expect you to be there."

I waved and promised to attend, heading out to start serious studying for finals.

Once the finals were done, I remembered the party invitation, and remembered to show up at Professor O'Brien's house just as the party began. As I was the only undergraduate there, I found myself surrounded by 'adults' in their twenties and spent most of my time in the background. I figured that I would enjoy the food and leave when a young blond haired woman walked up to me. "What did you do, sneak in?" she asked.

I looked the girl over, quickly deciding that she was most likely still in high school and shrugged. "Look kid," I said. "I'm here because Professor O'Brien invited me. Now why don't you go play with some dolls or something."

"What?" she shrieked. Conversation died around us, and she immediately noticed that everyone's attention was focused on us. With another scream of frustration she dashed into the back of the house.

I felt a bit exposed after she left as everyone's attention turned to me for a moment, but I smiled and headed over to one of the snack tables. Within moments the buzz of conversation returned to the room, and I relaxed.

"I never thought anyone could get Bridget to scream that loud," Professor O'Brien said, as he walked up behind me.

"Who?" I asked, as I turned to my mentor.

He nodded towards the passage the young lady had dashed down. "Bridget, my daughter. Usually she finds some new assistant and reduces them to stuttering incoherence. It's almost a game to her. What did you say to her?"

I shrugged. "I just suggested that she go play with her dolls."

Professor laughed at that. "Oh, I just can't wait to tell that one to Maev. She'll get a laugh. Especially since Bridget doesn't like dolls. Well, other than that, are you enjoying the party?"

"I feel a bit out of place, as I'm the youngest here by a few years, and no one wants to talk about anything I really understand, but the food is good," I admitted.

"Just get used to it," Professor suggested. "Once you get past the undergraduate stage, you'll find parties like this are used to do everything from networking for research grants to finding your next assistant."

I laughed as he was called away by another professor who was visiting the party. The rest of the evening I tried to concentrate a bit more on the conversations I was part of, but when the party ended and I headed home I was still wondering why people bothered.

The remaining semester of my sophomore year proved to be rather mundane. I was still clearing out a few graduation requirements, but the majority of my attention was back in the lab, where Professor O'Brien and his team were trying to figure out a way to produce hydroelectric power without building a huge dam to block the flow of the river. The problem was made worse by a requirement from the customer than any solution we came up with should have little to no chance of harming fish. That meant that we had to isolate the turbine blades from any fish, either by shielding them with a net, which reduced water flow, or getting the blades mostly out of the water. Designs were being proposed and thrown out with distressing frequency, and only the fact that this grant had a two year term gave us any hope as every failure did show us new paths we might take.

I was enjoying the challenge, and arranged with a friend to take over his apartment at the start of summer so that I could work full time in the lab. Professor O'Brien loved the idea, and supported me, helping me clear the deposit issues.

Well, I found out early that summer that Bridget had not forgotten my comment from the party months before, nor had she forgiven me it. My first discovery of this fact was by far the most painful. The recent tests in the lab were on a reversed waterwheel, which would just touch the water, with the majority of the wheel out in the air. The design would use a gear system to spin the electric coil at high speed. The idea was simple, but we had already found a number of problems in keeping contact with water, and providing enough torque to get the coils spinning at enough speed to generate electricity.

I was underneath the prototype and checking some measurements when someone pulled off my shoe and attacked my foot with a feather. As I squirmed to get away, my head rose and I received a nasty knock from hitting it into the wheel. Of course, the response from my attacker was only a rather malicious giggle. "Take that!"

I dragged myself out from under the wheel, checking for blood, but not finding any. Bridget was sitting there and holding a tattered feather duster. I sighed. "I'm sorry, we already have maid service."

She seemed about to scream, but then gave a mysterious smile. "I'll get you for that," she said.

"Look, you are what, some kind of high school sophomore," I stated.

"Senior! I'll be a senior next fall," Bridget spat at me. "And I don't play with dolls."

"No, you give men headaches," I muttered as I rubbed the growing bruise on my head.

Surprisingly Bridget giggled. "I'll give you more than that." Before I could react she pulled her shirt up to reveal her young and firm breasts, before dropping it back down.

I hissed at her in frustration and fury, but Bridget jumped to her feet and then dashed to the door. Just before she left she shouted over her shoulder. "Allen, I want to see the new teen romance coming out on Friday, be a dear and pick me up at seven so we can see it."

I tried to shout out a denial, but surprise caused me to sputter out gibberish as she disappeared out the door laughing. I stood there in impotent fury for a moment, until the pain in my head reminded me that I should get first aid. I had to take a moment to find where my shoe had been tossed. Fortunately it had not landed in any grease; so it only took a moment to put it back on. I had just finished tying it and was getting back to my feet when Professor O'Brien walked in.

"I just saw Bridget running off and laughing; was she in here?" he asked.

"Yes," I muttered. "I have the headache to prove it."

Professor walked over and quickly looked over my head and eyes. "Nasty bruise, which will probably form a bit of a bump, but doesn't look like any permanent damage," was his stated opinion. "How did you get it?"

"Your daughter decided to test a feather duster on my foot while I was under the wheel," I said.

Professor O'Brien laughed at this. "Ever since you insulted her at the party, she's talked about you and wanting to get back at you. I'm amazed she didn't hunt you down and demand a date to her junior prom."

I groaned. "Not what I want to hear boss. Somehow me dating your daughter seems like playing with fire, especially as I doubt she's eighteen yet."

"Well, she turns eighteen on November third," was the professor's response as he headed to his desk to go over the reports the other lab assistants had left him.

I managed to miss showing up at work on Friday by having my father call and request that I meet him to discuss the next year's tuition. In truth he was still back home, but it got me out of the lab early and I used that to escape from having to pick up Bridget. My hope was that by standing her up, I would cause her to lose interest in me.

That ploy did not work at all. Sunday I went out for a morning jog and returned to my apartment to find Bridget sitting on the front step waiting for me. She stood up as I approached and walked up to me. "What part of 'pick me up Friday at seven' did you not understand?" she asked.

"I think it was the part where I was supposed to pick up a spoiled brat like you," I replied with a smile. "Or it could have been the part that sounded like an order. I've always been told that I don't follow orders well."

Bridget sniffed. "Well, you'd better follow mine in the future. Or I'll tell father you made me cry."

I cringed a bit at this. Professor O'Brien clearly loved his daughter. He had several pictures of her in his office, plus a couple on his desk in the lab. If he decided to take offense that I had somehow upset his daughter, I could lose his guidance, and there really was no other professor on campus doing the work he did. Finally, I could see no other solution; I decided to see what terms Bridget was going to demand. "What do you want then?"

"I want you. I want dates. I want to prove to you that I'm not a little girl," Bridget said, while putting her arms around me and giving me a tight hug, pushing her breasts into my chest. "Is that the chest of a little girl?"

"I don't belong to people," I muttered. "And fine, you are a big girl, an almost lady, is that enough?"

"I said I want dates," Bridget said, giving me another squeeze.

"Not now," I moaned. "You aren't old enough."

Bridget released me with a giggle. "But I will be soon." She gave me a kiss on the cheek and dashed away. I thought I had somehow escaped when she turned. "If you are that nervous about things, there is a carnival coming next weekend. You'll take me there, it's very public."

She vanished down the street and I turned to enter my apartment. I was going to collapse in my bed when the phone rang and I answered. "Allen speaking."

"Allen, this is Patrick O'Brien, your boss. Bridget was going through my desk and I see that she was looking over my records regarding you. Have you seen her?" came from the phone.

I sighed. "She just left. She wants me to take her to a carnival next weekend."

Professor O'Brien snorted. "Well, you should have heard her rant when you didn't show up on Friday. I can't guarantee your safety if you stand her up again."

"Or if I make her cry," I muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing," I replied. "It's a public place so I guess I can risk it. I just don't know why she's after me."

I heard laughter over the phone. "You are the first assistant I've ever had who she couldn't reduce to tears. And you are close enough to her age to be exciting," Professor responded. "Just don't hurt her. She's not very experienced or world-wise."

"I'm more afraid that she'll hurt me," I said before turning the conversation to what I had missed on Friday. The current design was showing promise, but suffered a lot of lost power if the water level changed. We were contemplating ways to get around this when I started to think about tides and how a turbine could be set up to run as the tide went in or out.

Well, the next Saturday found me walking over to my bosses' house to take his daughter out for a date. I was not just slightly scared, but nervous and shaking when I knocked on the door. Maev O'Brien greeted me. She laughed as she saw me standing there. "She's still getting ready, and you look like you need to sit," she said waving me inside and to a chair.

I sat down with a sigh and tried to relax. Mrs. O'Brien seemed to sense my unease because she brought me over a glass of water. "You could have been about ten minutes late," she told me. "Bridget is still deciding on her outfit, and needs to take a shower. This date means a lot to her."

"Why?" I sputtered. "She barely knows me."

Mrs. O'Brien laughed. "You told her off, and that puzzles her. You were not awed by her looks, nor insulting just to be mean. To Bridget you are a challenge. She now seeks to win you."

"Great," I muttered as Maev sat there and smiled. She had not been lying about the wait and it was a good twenty minutes before Bridget emerged from the back of the house.

The wait definitely was worth it. Bridget had tied her blond hair up on a series of tight braids that she had carefully arranged around her head. It was artfully done, and she complimented the style with a loose fitting cotton blouse and knee length skirt. I actually struggled to get to my feet as I was so surprised by the beauty before me. Bridget watched my struggles and giggled.

"I guess you like it. Does this look like the outfit of a little girl?" she vamped.

I bit back an insult and looked more closely at Bridget. The room seemed more than a bit hot, and finally I sighed. "I don't know many women who could make that outfit look as nice as you do right now," I admitted honestly.

That statement proved to be a mistake as Bridget dove into my arms and planted an inexpert, but fervent kiss on my lips. She tried to drive her tongue into my mouth, and the shock of her jump had left my mouth open enough to allow it, so she quickly turned her embrace into something far more adult that I wanted. Maev O'Brien only laughed at the antics in front of her. "You are so doomed," she said quietly, as Bridget released me and stood up.

She pulled me to my feet and looked right into my eyes. "Let's get going."

With that I was dragged from the house and led with quiet efficiency to a battered sedan. Just before we reached it Bridget shoved a set of keys in to my hands. "You are the guy, you get to drive," she said, as she came to a stop next to the passenger door.

My father raised me to be a gentleman, so once I identified the right key, I unlocked the door and held it open for Bridget to get inside. She smiled and kissed me on the cheek before bending down to get into the car. I should have watched for the smirk right after she kissed me because there is no way her skirt just happened to flare out accidentally to reveal her panties as she settled into the seat.

By the time I walked around the car, my cock was a bit under control, but Bridget must have learned seduction from a witch. When I got into the driver's seat and looked at her, her skirt was back to covering her crotch, but she had pulled it up her thighs so that the suggestion that is might fly up and reveal all was always present, and the smirk she gave me as she watched my body react made it all too clear that she knew exactly the impression she was making.

I had known nothing about this carnival, but it turned out to be a small setup where a company that usually attended state fairs took over a corner of a parking lot for a weekend and provided a few low cost rides and games. Bridget insisted on my purchasing enough tickets for both of us to go on about twenty rides and immediately set about dragging me to the Ferris wheel. The twinkle in her eye should have warned me, but foolishly I went along. Once we were stopped at the top as others were loaded, she grabbed my hand and slid it under her skirt, allowing me to feel her panties. "Do you want to feel what's under them?" she whispered. "It's yours, anytime."

I hissed in surprise. "Bridget, not here. And not now."

Bridget laughed and held my hand tightly against her panties for a moment. She released my hand, only to put her arms around me. "I'm going to be yours Allen, and you'll be mine. Accept it now, or I'll chase you until you give in."

I looked down, only to see a couple cops wandering the carnival. Immediately, I slid away from Bridget and sat on the far side of the car. She looked annoyed for a moment, but then followed my gaze to the cops and started laughing. "Oh, you are so going to get it from me," she said with her eyes twinkling.

She kept her hands to herself for the rest of the one ride on the Ferris wheel, but once we were on the ground, she immediately grabbed my hand and led me to the next ride. Bridget had an agenda, and nothing was going to interfere with it, not my fear of the cops, nor her own age. She made sure that every opportunity she had to cause me to brush against her breasts or ass was taken, and I must admit that while I was terrified of the consequences, the little man between my legs cared not.

By the time my small bankroll ran out about three hours after we arrived, I was limping a little from the effects of her flirting. Bridget had the knowing look of a skilled seductress who knew that her target was going to succumb. I was being played with expert skill, and had to wonder if she was really innocent.

When I finally returned Bridget to her home, four hours after we had left, she threw her arms around me and tried to suck the air out of my lungs with a kiss. As soon as she was sure that I could no longer stand she ran into the house laughing as I slumped against the wall. Professor O'Brien happened to be just inside the door and watched her run past.

"Looks like Bridget made her play," he said. "I'm surprised you didn't chase her back to her room."

"Can't," I croaked as I tried to get back to my feet. "She didn't leave me much. Besides, she's not old enough."

Professor O'Brien laughed at me. "She was old enough to put you down on your knees."

He helped me back to my feet and sent me home, laughingly warning me that Bridget definitely was not done with me yet. I accepted his laughter, but there was a sense of fear in my heart. Bridget was far more forward than I expected and I had little experience with dating. I wondered how things would work out.

The rest of the summer, Bridget took every opportunity to show up at the lab and flirt. She quickly learned my schedule and would arrive just before I took my lunch break, and rush me outside to have a picnic on the grass. When the workday was over, she would show up and demand that we take a walk together, always making sure to touch me lovingly throughout the walks. I fought hard to avoid returning the caresses, but over time Bridget learned my mannerisms and would just happen to bump into me so my hands ended up on her breasts or high on her thigh.

The guys in the lab were no help. They started taking bets on how long I would last. Most predicted that I would not last more than one week past Labor Day before Bridget managed to get inside my apartment. She cheerfully joined in such banter, promising the guys that her first night with me would leave me too weak to come to work the next day.

Bridget also seemed to know every party, carnival, and special event occurring throughout the summer. At first she demanded that I pick her up at her house, but after I managed to come up with a few excuses to miss, she would just appear at my door on Saturday, and make a simple threat. Either I took her to whatever event she had planned, or she would force her way into my apartment. The smile she always gave me made it clear that she wanted into my apartment, but I was too frightened and always insisted on traveling outside.

But Bridget did not allow me to chicken out without consequences. Every Saturday was filled with kisses and gropes. I had to think she was taking lessons, because every Saturday she would send me home with a case of blueballs, and an over beating heart. The laughter that rang out each time she ran into her house made it clear that she knew exactly what she was doing.

Bridget did come very close to winning her little games. One of her favorite games was to insist that I take her to a movie that had been out for a couple weeks. She always insisted that we find a dark corner in the back row to sit, and rarely paid any attention to the movie, instead spending her time kissing and caressing me. At one movie I got turned on enough to forget Bridget was underage and had my hands down her panties when the movie ended and the lights came back on, reminding me of where I was. The look in Bridget's eyes when I delayed pulling my hands away made it clear she knew that I had slipped and the next three weekends she fought hard to get me back into the movie theater. I desperately ignored her suggestions and found outdoor activities to suggest.

I finished the summer still a virgin, and thought that the restart of school might protect me. I was now finished with my breadth requirements and all my courses were engineering courses with heavy study requirements. I deliberately looked for afternoon and evening classes for the upcoming semester. My plan was to throw myself at my studies and try to bore Bridget enough that she stopped chasing me.

Unfortunately Bridget was not going to let her studies or mine prevent us from being together. It took less than three weeks for her to find out my new class schedule and my planned work hours. Once she did, she arranged her schedule. The fourth week of classes I exited my Monday afternoon lecture to find Bridget waiting just outside glaring at me.

"Do you want me to tell my father you made me cry?" she screamed at me.

I looked around and noticed many of my classmates were taking far too much interest in this little argument. I reached out and grabbed Bridget's hand and started to walk off towards a nearby café. "Not here," I muttered.

Bridget ripped her hand free, but then fell into step next to me. "Then where? Or are you frightened of little me?"

I grumbled. "Bridget, I'm not frightened. I just don't get why you are pursuing me. We have nothing in common, and you are still in high school. Why don't you date one of the stars of the football team or something?"

I felt her arms wrap around my waist and she pressed her breasts into my arms. "The football team guys have no brains and less interest in me as a person."

"Bridget, that doesn't explain what I have in common with you."

She giggled. "You work for my father, which means you are smart. You aren't intimidated by me, and are willing to stand up to me. The smart guys in my school stay away because the jocks chase them away from me. I want a man who looks me in the eyes and not at my tits."

"Bridget! I can't see you talking like that!"

"Why? You think I'm some innocent? You should be a fly on the wall at a cheerleader slumber party. Your belief in the innocence of the high school girl would be permanently destroyed."

"And yet you chase after me."

"So? If you're worried about being a virgin, I'm one too. I might like to flirt, but my mother didn't raise a slut or a fool. She told me to find a man who respected me for who I was before I let him into my panties. And that man is going to be you."

"No it isn't!"

Bridget laughed. "Allen, I want you and I'm going to win. What excuses do you have left?"

"You are too young," I said feeling my resistance crumbling.

Bridget paused for a moment and then smiled. "And if I was eighteen?" she asked.

I could just shake my head. Bridget paused and then started clapping. "It's decided then. My birthday is on a Tuesday. That Friday I'll come over for dinner at your house and stay the night. My father won't get upset unless you make me cry."

Bridget started to run off as I reached out. I was so shocked that I missed grabbing her arm and she ran off, disappearing into the distance before I could refuse her command.

I spent the night at home, sleepless and worrying about the future. Bridget had made it clear that resistance would only encourage her to greater and greater lengths to get my attention. My complaints to her father only had Professor O'Brien laughingly promise to make sure that Bridget had been taking her birth control so that condoms would not be a worry on the night in question.

Actually Professor O'Brien did take me into his office for a long discussion about his daughter about a week after she announced our little overnight date. I entered the office with more than a little fear, but he merely smiled at me.

"Don't worry Allen, this meeting will be short and painless," he said.

"How?" I asked, my voice cracking on that simple word.

Professor O'Brien laughed. "Stop worrying. I'm not going to punish you because Bridget has decided she's adult enough to chase a man. You aren't going to hurt her, and she's been so happy this summer because of you."

"But I did nothing," I protested.

"You took her on dates. Yes, she did plan them, but you went with her and treated her much better than her friends have been treated. Bridget has always been honest with Maev and I, Allen. Many of her friends have been date raped by boys they went out with, and more than a few have been seriously hurt. You just cared for her. She's not happy that she's still a virgin, but that is her only complaint. You listen to her. You treat her like an adult. That's more than she expected."