by: Jack Duncan
It is a policy of the school that all dissertation advisors have informal 'tea' with their charges for an hour each week. As a mere Masters candidate, I was assigned to assistant professor David Ross who, lacking the seniority to rate a private office, sent me a formal invitation to meet with Dr. and Mrs. D. Ross at their home each Wednesday at four in the afternoon. The invitation graciously included Jeannie.
Mrs. Ross turned out to be a dark eyed little cutie named Millie who had met David while she was an exchange student from Italy. She hit it off immediately with Jeannie and the two women retired to the kitchen to allow us men to get to know each other and hold our scholarly discussions in the tiny sitting room.
We talked awkwardly for about forty five minutes until the women broke it up by bringing in a bottle of wine and four glasses. The two were chatting it up as if they had known each other for years. From the wine we graduated to martinis and sent out for pizza and by the time that was demolished, Jeannie and Dave had discovered a mutual interest in astronomy and were on hands and knees in the middle of the floor spreading out a series of pictures that Dave had taken of some obscure constellation.
Millie replenished my glass and sat down on the sofa beside me. "I've told your Jeannie more about myself today than I've ever told anyone. I think we're going to become great friends, she's a lovely person."
All I could think to say was "Yes she is, isn't she?"
"And she's told me much about herself and about you." Millie went on. "She told me why you're not married. She's so wise."
"You're against marriage?" I managed to say.
"Oh no, I'm not against marriage in principle, only as it is practiced. It's so stifling. Before I was married, I could have many friends; I could accentuate my womanhood, flirt with any man and kiss those I really liked. As a married woman, I am not allowed to have real friends. If I give any impression that I recognize a man as a man while I am a woman, then I am a hussy. If I kiss a man other than my husband because he is my friend and I love him then I am a slut. If I kiss a woman because she is my friend and I love her, then I am labeled lesbian and ostracized."
"Do you regret marrying David?"
"Oh no, if I were not married to David I would be living with him as Jeannie is with you. Maybe I should divorce him and do that. I hate being Mrs. Dr. David Ross, wife and non-woman, not to be desired or otherwise befriended."
We were interrupted by sounds of merriment from the couple on the floor with their photographs. David was holding up a picture and Jeannie laughed as she snatched it from him and held him off as he attempted to retrieve it.
"See your Jeannie." Millie laughed. "She can flirt, remind a man that she is a woman and he is a man. I am no longer allowed to do that in public."
"And in private?" I said quietly.
She stiffened. "I no longer have the nerve. I'm married."
I leaned over and kissed her on the lips. She didn't recoil, neither did she respond. Her lips were undecided and her eyes wide with surprise.
I was embarrassed by my impulsive action. "Well, it's getting late." I looked at my watch. "We really should be going."
Jeannie gave Dave a good-night hug and Millie extended her hand.
"Well, we'll be seeing the two of you next Wednesday." She held my hand a few moments longer
and a faint smile touched her lips.
Later when Jeannie slipped into bed and turned to throw one bare leg over me she murmured, "Why didn't I get a David for advisor instead of that stuffy old Mz. Formsby?"
"Because, my dear, too many promising careers have been ruined by sexy temptresses like you. The first commandment of the school is 'thou shalt not screw thine assigned students'. Davey boy would be in deep yoghurt if he were seen rolling around on the floor with one of his students like he was with you tonight."
"Is 'assigned' the key word there?" She asked as she rolled up on top of me.
"I would think so." I mumbled as I stroked down the curvaceous back.
"Then it's a good thing I'm not one of his assigned students." She muttered as she sat up and placed the tip
of my erection against her dainty clit. She slid it up and down a few times and then slid down onto
me with a happy sigh. I forgot to ask her what she meant by that last remark.
The following Tuesday night I didn't miss the significance of Jeannie's evading my amorous advances and was quite amused by her choice of wardrobe when I picked her up Wednesday afternoon to go to the Ross' - short skirt but no panty hose. Dammit she looked so sexy I almost took her directly back into the apartment.
Millie and Dave met us at the door; both effusively chatty. Millie, in a silk house coat greeted Jeannie with a kiss to the cheek and took my hand to lead me into the sitting room where wine and glasses were already on the coffee table. Dave fussed over the pouring and we all stood around nervously wondering whether to drink or toast some unmentioned event.
Jeannie broke the pause. "You mentioned, David, that you had a good exposure of the horse head?"
"Oh yes. It's right back on my desk." He took her elbow and led her down the short corridor that could lead only to the bedroom.
Millie laid a hand gently on my elbow. "There'll be no Oscars awarded for that scene." She laughed.
"You've been in touch with Jeannie." I guessed.
"Only about twice a day." As she raised her hands to my shoulders, the day coat slipped open revealing she wore nothing underneath.
My jeans hit the floor and my hands slid over the firm rounded hips as she drew me down to the sofa. She raised her lips to my kiss as she accepted me to full friendship in the manner nature designed a woman to accept her favored men.
From the bedroom came murmurs of approval from Dave and the sounds of Jeannie's soft laughter.