Authors: Kelee Morris
~*~
It was after midnight when we all retired to a disreputable 24-hour diner for runny eggs, bacon, pancakes, and bottomless cups of acrid coffee. I crowded into a booth next to Nina. Arturo and Vitoria were across from us. Ashland sat at a nearby table with his other students. He looked relaxed and jovial, his eyes sparkling even under the fluorescent lights. Elena sat next to him, laughing at something he said.
“Be careful,” Nina whispered to me over loud talk and the clang of knives and forks.
“Why?” I asked.
“You and Ashland were a little too relaxed and familiar out on the quad. You don’t want to raise any suspicions.”
As I chewed my extra crispy bacon, I felt a sadness envelop me. We were trapped like two butterflies enclosed in an opaque dome. As long as we remained inside, we were safe. But if we maintained our present relationship, we could never take flight and enjoy the heady thrill of exploring the rest of the world together.
~*~
By the next morning, the university had attempted to plow the paths and streets, but there were still spots where I was forced to wade through tall drifts to reach the archeology building. I had decided to come early, before starting my work in the library. Ashland had emailed me that he would be there.
He was sitting behind his desk, wearing a heavy wool sweater, a pile of thick books beside him. He abandoned his reading and rose from his chair when he saw me enter. I closed his office door and quickly crossed to him. Our arms and lips immediately found one another as we attempted to release some of the sexual and emotional frustration that had been building for the past weeks. We had barely lowered the pressure when I stepped back and took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I pulled off my coat and gloves and laid them on a nearby chair. “We shouldn’t have gotten started. We really need to talk.”
“I know,” he replied, gazing at me with serious eyes. “I realize I shouldn’t have dropped so much on you right before the craziness started.”
“It’s all right, Ashland. I’m glad you told me. I don’t want you to ever hide your feelings from me, good or bad.”
“And what would you label my revelation?”
I leaned forward and kissed him. “Finding someone to love is hard enough. I don’t like to think of it as sometimes being a negative thing.”
“But it does complicate matters.”
“Does it have to?” I asked, grasping his hand and running my fingers gently across his strong palms. “Love doesn’t mean we can’t continue on the way we are.”
His fingers intertwined with mine. “We haven’t talked about what’s going to happen if the North Koreans open up Magoa to research again. I would be going back, for months at least, maybe for a year or more.”
I looked into his eyes. No, I hadn’t thought about that. I had blocked the possibility from my mind. “When you get back we’ll pick up where we left off.”
“Julia, I don’t want to risk losing you. You pulled me out of a deep hole I had fallen into.”
“I can’t be responsible for that,” I said emphatically. “You need to take care of yourself, no matter what happens to us.”
“I know,” he said. “I don’t want to put that burden on you.” Then, smiling sadly, he added, “But I don’t like the implications of that last sentence.”
“I’m not implying anything, Ashland. There’s just so many things going on in my life. I don’t want to turn my world even more upside down. I want to keep what we have right now.”
I kissed him to drive home the point, my lips pressing hard against his. Why couldn’t he just want me? Why did he have to love me?
I thrust my whole body up against his. I could feel his cock straining against the wool fabric of his pants. I reached down and squeezed it hard. “I wonder if this is where the word ‘manhandle’ came from,” I whispered in his ear.
“I want to fuck you,” he said breathlessly.
I took a step back. “No,” I said. “Magoan Boxing Day is actually a two-day festival. On the second day, the goddess gives her supplicant a special gift.”
I strode purposefully to the door and turned the brass latch below the antique doorknob. Ashland watched me, his eyes full of curiosity and anticipation as I returned to stand before him again.
Without a word, I knelt. The outline of his fat cock reminded me of a Christmas stocking swollen with mouthwatering treats.
First, I took care of the more mundane task of pulling off his soft Italian leather shoes and his socks. Then, returning to the object of my desire, I slowly unzipped his trousers. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t look up. I didn’t want to be distracted from the pleasures of giving him pleasure.
I unclasped his pants and slipped them down over his muscular legs, tossing them aside. I knew he would be wearing boxers; he was old fashioned in his choice of underwear. I pulled them off with some difficulty because he was so engorged. His cock, horizontal to the floor except for a slight curve upwards, was free. I had missed it all these long weeks.
I ran the tip of my tongue up the underside of the shaft. I could feel him shiver with excitement and expectation. My tongue paused at the head and made a slow revolution around it. A dewdrop of pre-cum appeared. I snagged it with the tip of my tongue, enjoying its warm saltiness. I made a leisurely descent again until I reached his balls. I sucked one, then the other, into my mouth, swirling them around gently like succulent fruit.
I continued to tease him, brushing my lips across the soft skin of his scrotum, flitting my tongue in and out, letting it dance across his member. Finally, I opened my mouth wide and the head of his cock disappeared inside. I moved slowly, using my tongue to apply pressure on the underneath side of the shaft.
His hands touched both sides of my head, caressing my hair gently. Again, I resisted the temptation to look up.
I took his cock in as far as I could, until I felt it at the back of my throat. I willed myself not to gag even though he was enormous. I moved rhythmically up and down, occasionally withdrawing my mouth so I could rest my jaw while I let my tongue enjoy a turn at this delightful task.
I knew he had amazing stamina, but we didn’t have that luxury this morning. The rest of our team would be arriving shortly, and a knock on his door was inevitable.
I quickened my pace, sucking him in, pulling away, almost but not quite allowing him to escape, only to take him in again as far as I possibly could.
I reached around and gripped his firm, bare ass. I could feel his gluteus maximus muscles contract as his orgasm began to bubble to the surface. His cock swelled even larger, stretching my jaw muscles to their limit. His hands gripped my head tighter.
He came, letting out a long, low moan. When he was done, I stood. Ashland’s face was alight with gratification. I kissed him on the cheek. “Time for us to get to work,” I said. Then I scooped up my coat, unlocked the door, and slipped out.
We sped north along a sparsely populated tollway. Towering streetlamps shaped like inverted Ls were just beginning to flicker off. The rising sun cast long, slivery shadows across ten lanes of asphalt. When did humans decide they needed a road the width of a football field? Why did life have to be so enormous and complicated?
Nina was at the wheel of her vintage Honda, a large tea close at hand. As I sipped my coffee, I felt a sense of impending loss. This weekend would be the culmination of my work on the Magoa project. Ashland’s research would continue for years, perhaps for the rest of his life, but my job would end. I would soon have to decide what would come next.
Nina interrupted my thoughts. “Thousands of years from now, if our history is lost, I wonder what people will make of that?” Nina was gazing at an enormous amusement park that rose along the highway like a twisted, alien city.
“They’ll probably label them torture devices,” I joked.
Nina smiled. “We took my son to an amusement park. He and my husband loved it but I didn’t understand how being scared to death was enjoyable.”
“But when you come back to earth and you’re still alive you want to do it all over again.”
“It sounds like being with a man.”
We both laughed. Then we fell silent again. In my mind I was back in Ashland’s bedroom, lying naked with him. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek and smell his skin’s subtle, masculine odor. I had reached dizzying sensual heights in his embrace. Was it just about the sex and the feeling of being worshipped, or was there more to my feelings?
Did I love him?
“Can I ask you a personal question?” I asked Nina.
“Of course.”
“Have you ever thought about what would happen if you or your husband fell in love with someone else?”
Nina sipped her tea thoughtfully. “We’ve discussed the possibility. Being in love with someone else doesn’t preclude us from loving one another, or remaining married.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“We’re rational people. But, of course,” she added, offering me a small, wry smile, “I thought Ashland was even more rational than me.”
I slipped my hand into my coat pocket and pulled out the jewelry box. “I guess now would be the perfect moment for you to give me my gift.”
Nina smiled. “I can’t wait to see what I bought you.”
I pulled the chain out of the box and put it around my neck. Nina glanced over at the silver goddess symbol glistening in the morning sun. “I have very good taste,” she quipped.
~*~
The hotel and conference center in Madison was enormous, boxy, and bland—all function and little form. As Nina wound her way up the large parking structure that stood next to it I could just make out a sliver of Lake Mendota through the concrete slats, its surface still doted with ice.
Carrying our bags inside, we crossed an expanse of diamond-patterned carpet to the registration desk. As we checked in with the brusque young woman behind the desk, I eyed the gray-haired professors in rumpled jackets and ties and the young, casually dressed graduate students in goatees and hiking boots who milled about, talking in small groups or lounging in thickly padded leather chairs, checking their phones.
“Julia, Nina.”
We turned to see Elena exiting an elevator. After seeing her for weeks in sweatshirts and a ponytail, she looked dazzling in a form-fitting blouse, tight jeans, and heals. I wasn’t the only one who thought so; men, young and old, turned to watch as she approached us. “Where’s Ash?” she asked breathlessly.
“We just got here,” Nina said. “Why?”
“I just saw Dr. Crusher in the hallway.”
“How did he look?” I asked.
“Like he’d just gotten laid.”
Nina looked concerned. “Then he must have seen Dr. Stewart’s paper.”
~*~
Our team was spread across two floors. After registering, Elena accompanied me uninvited to my room on the seventh floor while Nina took the elevator to eight. “You’re next to Ash,” Elena remarked when we stopped at my door.
“Really?” I said, sliding my keycard into the slot. “I didn’t realize.”
Of course, I did know because Ashland told me he had instructed Marilyn on how our team’s rooms should be arranged. “So I’ll know where to find everyone,” he had explained to her.
As Elena followed me into my small, non-descript but clean weekend quarters, I immediately spotted the benefit Ashland had promised. Unlike more recently constructed hotels, our rooms had connecting doors. For the first time in our affair, Ashland and I would be able to spend the night together. I only wished it was under less stressful circumstances.
I put my suitcase in the corner and turned back to Elena. She was watching me, her face troubled. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I’m thinking of leaving the Ph.D. program.”
“Why? You’re one of Dr. Stewart’s top students.”
“For all the good that does me.” She sat heavily on the crisp, white bedspread. I didn’t want her here but she clearly needed to talk. “I just feel like I can’t work under him anymore.”
“Elena, you need to separate your personal feelings from your professional life. You’ve got a wonderful career ahead of you.”
Her tears began to flow like a heartbroken teenager’s. “Ash is the reason I went into archeology,” she said, her eyes focused on a painting of an idyllic lake scene hanging on the opposite wall. “I was studying math at the university in Moscow. Then I heard him speak at a symposium. The next day I asked to change majors.”
“He must have given quite a talk.”
“I don’t even remember what the subject was but he was so amazing. I knew I wanted to work with him and learn from him.”
I walked over to the bed. “And you’ve done that. You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished.”
She turned to me. Her eyes were swollen with tears. “But I didn’t know I was going to fall in love with him.”
I held back a heavy sigh. This was beginning to feel like a Shakespearean farce. “Elena…” I stopped, unsure of what to say. I knew she was likely one in a long line of girls who had fallen in love with Ashland and gotten their hearts broken.
A trail of tears
, I mused. Elena should consider herself lucky. She hadn’t slept with him. She wasn’t fully invested. “I know it hurts, but you have to do what’s right for you. You can’t react to what somebody else does.”
She stood. “I’m sorry,” she said. She wiped her eyes. “I just… I wish I were you. You’re married, happy. You don’t have to go through this shit anymore.”
I hesitated, then stepped forward and gave her a hug. I genuinely felt sorry for her.
“You’ll be all right,” I offered as I released her.
She stared at Ashland’s gift dangling from my neck. “Where did you get that?”
I held it up for her to see. “Nina,” I replied. “She has a friend in Italy who makes jewelry.”
“It’s beautiful.” She cradled it in her hand to examine it more closely. “It figures another woman would give you this. Why can’t men be that thoughtful?”
~*~
I returned to the lobby to collect my conference badge. Ashland’s paper on Magoa had been published that day by
Archeological Review
magazine so it would receive maximum exposure at the conference. The issue had just arrived; I immediately spotted its cover featuring a photo of Dr. Stewart at the dig in North Korea. Everywhere I looked, conference-goers poured over copies or clutched them in their hands as they talked ardently with their colleagues. Even in the pre-conference seminars we attended, the speakers were often ignored as heads remained buried in the magazine’s glossy pages.
I spotted Ashland only once that afternoon. He and Nina were standing outside a conference room surrounded by archeologists. He had suggested in a text earlier in the day that I maintain my anonymity until my presentation tomorrow. As I watched several agitated scientists trying to corner him simultaneously, I was thankful for his advice.
I found these early seminars, which mostly dealt with the future of archeology, fascinating. There was so much more to learn about where
homo sapiens
came from, and I wanted to be a part of it. I didn’t care that I was likely to be the oldest student in the Ph.D. program. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had found what I was meant to do.
An hour before our group was scheduled to gather for the awards banquet, I took the elevator upstairs, showered, did my hair, and slipped into the indigo blue dress I had bought last week. It was as revealing as something Elena might have picked out, and I felt nervous that I was trying to be too young and sexy. But when I looked at the final results in the bathroom mirror, I was pleased. It clung to me in all the right places, flattering my hips and breasts. I looked amazing.
Downstairs, I spotted our group huddled in a far corner of the lobby. As I made my way through the crowd of scientists waiting to be seated for dinner, I could feel male eyes turning in my direction, just as they did for Elena earlier. I smiled to myself, imagining unseen cocks rising to attention. But there was only one cock I cared about arousing tonight.
Ashland was standing at the center of his students. As I broke free of the crowd, he looked up, as if sensing my presence. If I had any doubts about his feelings for me, they instantly vanished. The desire in his eyes could have turned the room into a blazing inferno.
I shot Ashland a warning glance, afraid that Elena would notice. Fortunately, by the time I reached the group, he had regained his composure. Ashland was addressing them. “This is precisely the reception we expected,” he said, his voice calm and completely in charge. “We’re not here to make friends. We’re here to tell the truth. Now let’s go enjoy our dinner.”
Ashland led us towards the banquet room doors. At the same moment, another clutch of scientists also approached. At their center was a small man in his mid-sixties with a wild shock of gray hair and a face that looked like it had been worn away by bitterness. He wore a suit that was a size too big for him, as if he had shrunken over the years. He hobbled along with the help of a cane as his companions, mostly men his age, followed deferentially.
We reached the doors simultaneously. The old man paused; his companions following suit. He gave Ashland a long look, like a spider admiring a fly.
Ashland nodded to him. “Good to see you, Dr. Crusher.”
“Delighted,” Dr. Crusher grunted. Then he led his group in front of ours.
~*~
I sat with Ashland’s students at a large, round table in the middle of the banquet hall. Chandeliers glittered above as the waitstaff efficiently delivered salad, soup, bread, and our entrees. Ashland was seated up front with more prestigious colleagues. I watched as he chatted politely with his dinner companions. All of them were likely at similar places in their career, but the way they laughed and seemed to hang on his words told me that Ashland was the star.
I chewed my filet mignon while I listened to dull speeches given by scientists and students who paraded up to accept various archeological awards. Ashland, Nina told me, had received almost every one of these prizes at some point in his career, but they meant little to him. He cared only about the work itself, not the accolades.
The final award of the evening was reserved for Dr. Crusher. The president of the archeological society ran through a long list of Dr. Crusher’s achievements. As he rose slowly from his chair, the crowd responded with a standing ovation. Dr. Crusher approached the stage, leaning heavily on his cane. Shuffling past Ashland’s seat, he paused to lean down and whisper something to him. Ashland nodded, but didn’t react.
After a few opening remarks thanking the society for its work, Dr. Crusher, his forceful voice in stark contrast to his physical frailty, didn’t waste time getting to the meat of his remarks. “I had hoped,” he thundered, “that our profession had long since left behind the age where headline-grabbing theories and personal glory were more important than scientific accuracy. Unfortunately, there are still too many scientists who pursue magazine covers and appearances on what passes for non-fiction television over sound theory and exhaustive research.”
As Dr. Crusher continued his tirade, I watched Ashland’s face. He betrayed no hint that his rival was speaking of him. He calmly sipped his glass of chardonnay and leaned back in his chair. The jealousy seemed to be only one-sided. I wished I could slip up to his table and whisper to him that Dr. Crusher was an asshole, but I think he knew that already.
~*~
My dress wasn’t the only new item I had purchased for the weekend. I hadn’t been to Victoria’s Secret in years. I always despised being surrounded by oversized images of too perfect women I could never be. But the afternoon I took off work to browse through racks of flimsy, overpriced nightwear, I felt comfortable and sexy in my own size 10 body. I had as much right to be a goddess as they did.
Returning to my hotel room after dinner, I undressed and slipped on a black lace negligee that was more flesh than fabric, I sat on my bed, feeling the wetness seeping through my new panties, waiting impatiently for the knock on my connecting door. It had been so long since we had been together. I yearned for him, but my desire was tempered by an underlying apprehension. Now that Ashland loved me, would sex still be the same? It was an odd question. Women were supposed to think that love made sex meaningful.