Getting Tenure

GETTING TENURE by K. Nitsua. Copyright 2004 by the author.

It's five-thirty on Wednesday afternoon. The corridors of the main classroom building are deserted. Let's face it, this is no Harvard, it's a small state school. Around here students never hang around after hours if they can help it.

I've taught at this place longer than I care to remember and I'm way past griping about the quality of the students, well, at least their intellects. Besides, the fact that the campus is pretty much deserted in the evening makes this part of my job easier.

Bryan Ross is coming up for his third year review this fall. He first talked to me last spring, worried he wasn't going to be renewed. At his request I looked at his record. Just between you and me, he was right to be scared.

As senior member of the campus Tenure and Promotion Committee I could make or break his case and he knew it. When he found out exactly what I was going to require from him, though, he turned tail and ran.

Then he remembered that he had a wife and two small kids to support. Getting kicked out of here with a negative evaluation, and no one to write him a good reference, would be the end of his career in academia. His chances of landing another tenure-track position in a very crowded field would be practically nil.

He did some thinking and came back. We've been having regular sessions for several months now. He's making progress.

There's a knock on the door. Right on time.

"Come in," I say.

The door opens and Bryan steps in, holding a briefcase, stiff and nervous as usual. Well, why shouldn't he be a little scared? He knows how much is at stake in these meetings. His future as a member of this university faculty is in my hands.

He's dressed in a striped, starched shirt with tie and dress slacks. I like a faculty member who looks neat for the students. That was one of the first suggestions I made to him when he came to me last year, very upset at what he had read on his teaching evaluations.

I'd never tell him this but he's a good-looking guy, trim body, chiseled features dusted with five-o'clock shadow, puppy-dog brown eyes. He could have the campus eating out of his hand, if he'd only take advantage of what he's got. Right now I'm the only one in on the secret.

"How are you?" I ask. He nods in reply. Bryan never has been one to say much. That's okay. He never contradicts me, which is exactly the way things should be.

"Get any writing done this week?"

"Some," he says.

"Bring it with you?"

"Yes, of course."

Silently I crook my finger at him. He starts to move forward, but I stop him immediately by raising my palm.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

He ducks and scratches his head. "Can't it wait until after you look at my stuff?"

I shake my head. "You know the rules."

He hesitates, but he knows it's useless to argue. He raises his hands and begins to undo his tie. I watch as he strips. Though I don't let it show, my breathing quickens and my heart beats faster as his body, tight and toned from regular workouts at the college gym, comes into view. His pecks are lightly dusted with hair above his flat stomach, but there's no hair sticking out behind the pouch of his jockstrap. I made him trim his pubes into a neat patch. Wonder what his wife thinks of that, to say nothing of the men he runs into in the gym locker room.

He folds his clothes and puts them on a chair by the door, then straightens and looks at me. I let him leave his strap and socks on. I love a hot man in a jock.

"Looking good," I say. He shrugs.

"Let's see what you've done."

He turns away, bends and reaches into his case of papers. At the sight of those tight butt cheeks framed by the wide straps above his sinewy runner's legs, my cock stiffens and pushes against the front of my pants. I debate whether to save looking at his work for later, but some sense of duty makes me push the thought away.

He hands me the pages. I sit at my desk and begin to read, taking a pen and making a few notations as he waits, standing. I sneak a peek at his well-filled pouch. I'd love to access its contents, though I haven't let him know that. Eventually I'll show him on my own terms how skilled I am at that particular activity.

After a few minutes I look up. Anxiety is in his eyes, sharp and bright. When I nod, giving him my approval, relief floods into his face and he lets out an audible sigh.

"Good work," I tell him.

"Thank you. Your suggestions last week were really helpful."

"I knew they would be. Now I'd like you to spend the next few hours working on this in your office. Remember, you need to have at least one article placed in a top-tier journal by the end of your third year. From what I've read I'd say there's a good chance this could be the one. But only if you keep at it."

He nods. "I told my wife I'd be working late this evening."

I smile. "Good. You're learning." A silence falls. I'm going to have to prompt him. "We need to move on."

His shoulders sag. "Okay." He never has quite gotten used to this part, I think because he has to work. If you ask me, that's Bryan's basic problem. He's just a bit lazy. I'm trying to fix that.

"Get the mat."

He goes to the door and locks it before he picks up the mat in front of it. Smart man, he's learning. I've turned my chair to one side behind my desk in the meantime. He places the mat in front of my feet and kneels on it. I keep my face impassive, expectant as I spread my knees apart to give him room.

His face is an expressionless mask as he concentrates on the task at hand. He grasps the zipper of my fly and draws it downward. When it's open he reaches in and fumbles inside. Finally he manages to unbutton the front of my boxers and pull my equipment out. My cock's already half hard and dripping, moist purple head peeking out from my foreskin. I draw in my breath. Awkward and unwilling as his touch is, it's turning me on. I've been at this for a lot of years, long enough so that the bodies and faces are starting to run together. That won't happen with this one.

"Suck it, Professor."

I can't help sighing with pleasure as my cock is surrounded by the moist heat of his mouth. Bryan's gotten to be quite a good little cocksucker. He slides up and down my shaft, keeping it lubricated with lots of spit, keeping his lips pressed in a tight seal, making sure he peels the foreskin off my throbbing glans on each downstroke. I grab his head, mussing his hair, using his mouth like a fuck toy. I moan with delight as he takes me down to the root, burying his nose in my dense, graying pubic hair, squeezing my dickhead with his throat muscles. After a moment he tries to rise but, just to be mean, I push down on the back of his head, keeping my tool jammed down his gullet until he gags. Finally I let go and he pops up gasping, tears starting from his eyes.

"Nice," I tell him.

He knows better than to say anything, but goes back to work. I could sit here all night watching Bryan do me, but he's too good. A few more minutes of this and I feel the heat build up in my crotch, the sperm start to boil in my balls.

"Fuck, I'm going to shoot," I whisper. He speeds his pace, trying to get it over with. It's exactly what I want. "That's it, that's it, just like that," I hiss at him through gritted teeth. "Oh yeah...here it comes...Take it, fucker!"

The last few words emerge as a strangled shout as I grab his head and jam it into my crotch, not caring whether he chokes on the spunk that's pouring in hot blasts down his throat. He utters muffled cries of protest between gulping noises and gurgles. The sounds he makes mingle with my gasps and moans. My eyes are screwed shut as the orgasm rips through my body and explodes inside my head. Oh God, I needed this bad.

After a few minutes I come down to earth. I relax my grip, open my eyes and look down. Bryan is holding me in his mouth, eyes closed, his hands grasping my knees. Air is whistling in and out through his nose, since his throat's still stuffed with cock.

I pry his hands off, grab his shoulders and give him a shove. He reaches behind him in time to avoid falling on the floor, and stays in that position, his back arched, his face turned toward the ceiling, tears running out between his closed eyelids, streaks of my cum trickling out the corners of his mouth.

The shaft of his hard cock is clearly outlined by the stretchy material of his pouch. There's a darker spot in the middle where his precum has soaked through. Interesting. He's getting to like this.

"Nice work, Dr. Ross," I say, still breathing hard.

Bryan lowers himself to the floor and opens his eyes. He coughs and sputters a bit, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. I stand, reach in my pocket, pull out a handkerchief and give it to him. Still sitting on the floor at my feet, he wipes his face and blows his nose.

Then he does something that surprises me. Dropping the cloth, he pulls himself up to his knees and grabs my thighs. My moist, softening cock is still hanging out of my pants. Bryan's tongue shoots out of his mouth and he begins to clean the last of my cum off of it. I gasp a bit as he licks the head, super-sensitive in the aftermath of orgasm.

He looks up. "Is this all right?"

"Sure." He's never done this before and I'm intrigued. Pretty soon he's finished and I zip up. Bryan hands me back my handkerchief, then stands, keeping his eyes down, waiting for my next instructions.

I put my hand on his shoulder. "You didn't have to do that."

He looks up and smiles. "Guess I'm learning to go the extra mile, just like you've been saying."

I smile too, but shake my head. "I appreciate it, but what's more important is going the extra mile for your students. I hope you're thinking about that."

"Yes, I am. Thanks for sitting in on my classes too, Dr. Ramm. Your comments on the observation sheets have really helped."

"That's what I'm here for. Shall we?"

He grimaces. "You sure there's no one around?"

"C'mon, Bryan. Would any of our dedicated students be here at this hour? Or our colleagues?"

"Guess not."

I snort. "None of the faculty is going to be here after five, except maybe some of your untenured brethren." I wink at him. "And if any of them sees us heading down to your office, well...they'll know what's going on."

He's not totally reassured, but he turns. I pick up the pages he showed me before, follow him to the door and wait as he unlocks it. He makes no move to pick up his clothes. This is part of my regimen for him as well. No chance he'll take an unauthorized break this evening.

He opens the door, and hesitates one last time. I give him a slap on the butt. "Let's go."

We walk out together into the corridor and turn toward his office. Bryan's ears are bright red. He's terrified of getting caught in the halls in nothing but a jockstrap and socks. He knows better than to try and rush me. I'm the only one who can let him into his own office, since his keys are in his pants pocket.

Sure it's humiliating to be treated like this. But junior faculty have to get used to a little humiliation. It's a rite of passage in academia.

His office is not far away and it only takes a minute to get there, though I'm sure it seems a lot longer to him. He hops from one foot to the other as I unlock his door, beside himself. At last I get it open and step aside. He practically runs in ahead of me.

I follow him in and hand him his pages. "You going to be okay?"

He shrugs. "Guess so. I've got everything I need here. Good thing, since I'm not going anywhere till you give me back my clothes."

I smile at him. "I'll be back after dinner to see how you're doing."

I shut the door and go back to my office. I need to make a call before I go.

"Stanley? It's Jerry Ramm...Just wanted to report on the junior member of your department, Bryan Ross. He's really coming along. I think he could go all the way."

Stanley Griegum, Bryan Ross's department chair, says something rude and I laugh.

"You know what I mean, as a teacher and scholar. He's come pretty far in other ways, too...Makes me cum pretty far, that's for sure."

We both laugh.

"Don't ask me when we have our next session. You're the one with the hot tub...I know, we're both so busy. Maybe fall break...Yeah...that'd be great. Looking forward. Bye."

I hang up and lean back in my padded swivel chair. Despite the load I just shot down Bryan's throat I'm hard again. Hearing Stanley's deep, butch voice always has that effect on me, especially when he gives me a hard time. He's jealous. He's had the hots for Ross from day one. But as department chair he can't fuck a junior colleague. Conflict of interest, you know. I don't have that problem. Me doing Bryan is for his own good, and for the good of the institution.

Stanley'll get his own back next time he bends me over the rim of the hot tub on his back deck and shoves that fat prick of his up my ass. He knows I need a taste of my own medicine once in a while and he's more than happy to oblige.

I massage my hard tool straining against my fly. Maybe I'll stop by Stanley's place and talk him into a quickie. I might need to save it for later, though.

With an effort I get up out of my chair and out of the office. I look at Bryan's clothes piled on the chair as I snap off the light. Yeah, I'll save it.

It's past nine when I get back to campus, well-fed, still horny. I head straight for Bryan Ross's office and knock on the door.

After a long pause his nervous voice calls, "Who is it?"

"It's okay, it's me."

The door opens just wide enough for me to slip in. Bryan's crouching behind it, blushing.

"Sorry. I was pretty sure it was you, but..."

"No problem. Wouldn't do to let a student see you like that, now would it?"

"Did you bring my clothes?"

I shake a finger at him. "Not so fast. I need to check on what you've done while I was gone."

His face falls. "Well..."

"Yes?"

"It's just not coming tonight. Writer's block, or something."

I walk over to the desk and look at his monitor. It only takes a moment to read through the sparse sentences he's typed. "That's it?"

"I know, I know." He spreads his hands and offers a feeble smile. "Maybe I'm still not used to working naked."

I let my voice darken. "You'll get used to it if I leave your clothes locked in my office for the night."

"Aw, please, Jerry, I mean, Dr. Ramm..." His voice rises, then he checks himself. "Isn't there something else I can do? I can't stay here all night." He tries another smile. "My wife'll think I'm cheating on her."

I run my eyes over his lean frame, the abs, the bulging biceps, the thick band around his slim waist, the swollen triangle of elastic fabric that covers his crotch. It doesn't take me long to decide. I nod, then unbuckle my belt.

He gives me a resigned look, then starts to drop to his knees.

"No."

Surprise in his eyes.

"Get naked and turn around."

His big brown eyes get even wider and his mouth opens. He knows what's going to happen and he can't stop it. Not if he wants to get out of here tonight.

I step toward him, reach out and pinch one of his nipples, hard. He yelps, startled.

"Do it. Else I leave you here."

Bryan waits a moment longer, then pulls his socks off and peels the jock down his thighs. My mouth practically waters as that long cut cock and heavy balls come flopping into view between his legs. No doubt about it, he's halfway hard. I've suspected for a while that our sessions are turning him on. So much the better if he enjoys our work, both for him and for me.

He turns, bends and assumes the position against the heavy metal door of the office. I'm naked from the waist down in record time. Before I toss my pants to the floor I pull out a condom from the pocket. When I've hooded myself with the prelubed latex I get behind him. My rod nudges one perfect melon-shaped buttcheek.

I'm fucking turned on, but also in a bit of a mood. He needs to be taught a lesson for failing to produce. I put one hand on the back of his neck and force his head down.

"All the way down, quick! Grab those ankles."

"Oh, shit," Bryan moans. He's bent double, back and shoulders pressed against the door, hamstrings stretched to their painful limit, butt sticking straight up, cock and balls hanging down, exposed and vulnerable. It's a beautiful sight and my cock hardens to steel. I give a few light, preliminary taps with the head against the pink rosebud of his asshole, spasming and winking at me between his hairy cheeks.

I spit into my hand and lather him up. "Since you didn't make any progress this evening we're going to have a pop quiz. You want to know the topic? Say yes," I say, shoving my wet index finger into his tight hole.

"Unggh! Yes."

I piston my digit in and out, loosening him up. "We're going to have a little review of what the Faculty Handbook says about faculty evaluation. Stuff you need to know."

I add my middle finger to the one that's already up his fuckhole. Bryan's breath quickens and his chest begins to heave as I find the firm knob inside and begin to work it with two fingers. Soon my efforts are rewarded by a glistening string of precum dripping from the head of his cock to the floor.

"What's the single most important quality of a successful faculty member at this university?" I ask him while I continue to milk his prostate. Lost in his pleasure, the junior prof doesn't answer. I bear down hard with my fingers, drawing a moan.

"Oh God! It's...it `s being an excellent teacher."

"That's right," I say. "What else does the handbook say?" The warmup's almost through. In a moment he'll be loosened up and ready for the main event.

"Uh...no amount of work in the other evaluative areas will compensate for poor teaching."

"Good boy." I pull my fingers out and position my cock for a backdoor delivery. "What's the second evaluative area according to the handbook?"

"It's...um...OOF!"

Without waiting for his answer I shove my rod in one huge thrust into his love canal. His ass muscles clamp down on my cock, surrounding it with tight heat. Bryan Ross may not be the best hire we've ever made, but he just might be the sweetest ass I've ever had here.

"Still waiting for your answer, boy."

Small whimpers are rising from his chest as he tries to adjust to the invasion. Finally he gets a few words out.

"Uh...uh...a record of professional achievement."

Not quite it. I pull back until I'm almost all the way out, then ram it in again, making him cry out. "You left something out." I thrust in again.

"AAH!...Scholarly and professional achievement!"

"That's better." I'm holding his hips with my hands, rocking him back on his heels, keeping him off balance. "Exactly what you should have been working on this evening, Dr. Ross."

I start to fuck him for real, gradually work up to a steady rhythm of hammering thrusts into his helpless body. He emits a grunt every time I hit bottom, in perfect sync with the sound of my pubic bone slamming into his buns. "And the last area? I'll give you a hint. You're doing it right now."

"I'm...uh...performing...uh...University service, sir."

"And doing a good job, Dr. Ross. If only you could perform your other tasks as well as you do this one." I watch my veined, latex-covered shaft slide in and out of his hole. Fuck that's hot. I speed up my thrusts and soon I'm about to cum for the second time this evening. "If there's one thing you can do, it's take my cock...take it...take it...TAKE IT! YEAH!"

With a triumphant shout I arch my back, driving my cock in as deep as I can as it discharges into the rubber. "Oh fuck!" The second time around there's pain mixed with the pleasure but it makes it even better. I drink in the stuffy air of Bryan's office in great gasps, my heart racing, about to pass out. Maybe I'm getting too old for this. I sure hope not.

Finally I pull out of his ass and look down at him. Bryan's still bent double, his hands grabbing his ankles. His face is scarlet from the blood that's rushed to his head. His cock is hanging down, hard and dripping. I reach around his legs and take hold of it.

"Open your mouth."

It only takes a minute to bring him off. His gasps turn into hoarse, triumphant cries. Long jets of white cum shoot from the head of his dick, splattering his chest, face, and hair. He squeezes his eyes shut but keeps his mouth open, letting his hot load run in. I watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows.

I let go of his body and step back. He can't keep his balance and collapses to one side, sprawling across the linoleum tiles of his office floor. I stand above him, breathing hard.

After a moment he gets to his knees and looks up at me, streaks of his jizz running down his face and neck.

"Feed it to me. Please."

I don't get it. "What?"

He eyes my softening cock, still in its rubber ballooning with senior spunk.

I'm surprised for the second time this evening. After a pause I shrug and peel the rubber off. He tips his head back. I upend the condom and turn it inside out. His tongue shoots out to catch the thick droplets. Not satisfied, he lunges at the soiled latex and draws it into his mouth. Not until it's polished clean does he let go, licking his lips.

If I were ten or fifteen years younger I'd be hard again. Watching Bryan Ross feeding on my manjuice is unbelievably hot. I toss the rubber away, fall to my knees and grab his head with both hands. Now my tongue shoots out as I lick and clean his cum off his face, then press my lips to his and feed him his own load, a chaser to the drink he's had from my fountain.

We're finished at last and I draw back, look into the deep soft pools of his eyes. My heart is pounding again. Somehow I've given this one more than I've intended. I swallow a couple of times before I can finally say something.

"Normally no amount of service can compensate for insufficient scholarly and professional achievement. For you, Dr. Ross, I'm thinking about making an exception."

It's a while before he answers.

"I'll have a draft of my article done by next week."

All in all, it's been a productive evening.

END