Alden College is a very good school. It might not be among the famous names, but we’ve had our share of success stories. We admitted only women until five years ago. But the money got tight, so we had to go admit men, too. My predecessor, Anne Satterfield, was “old school.” She wanted Alden to remain all-female. She fought to the bitter end for her dear school to remain true to its old ways. Instead, the board of trustees gave her one more year. Then they voted to ease her into a comfortable retirement.
That’s when I came along. I’m Rob Willis. I became responsible for bringing Alden into the modern age. I’m used to challenges. Diversifying a single-sex school surely qualifies. I didn’t jump for this opportunity at first. But like Anne Satterfield, I’d lost a career battle royal. I was supposed to succeed the director at my previous school, a liberal arts college with a name you would surely recognize. I was one of two groomed for the job. The other, Amanda Prentice, looked the part of a successful professional. She got up at five every morning, ran three miles, ate nothing but carrot sticks and tofu for lunch and made it a point to have dinner with the “right people.” In the meantime I had to keep staff morale up as she tore into employees and student workers. But politics prevailed. Amanda got the job and fired me as soon as she could. She did not even allow me the dignity of submitting a resignation.
I was out of work for nearly a year until I got the call from Alden. I was sent through a round robin of interviews. Anne Satterfield was the last to meet, and I had no idea what to expect. Anne was an Alden alumna, class of ’67. She had never worked anyplace else though she’d had a variety of jobs throughout the college. I saw a picture of Anne on the college Web site. She was a plump lady with a round chubby face, fair skin, gray hair cut short. She wore a conservative suit dress with a light blue blouse buttoned to show little of her ample breasts. Anne had a very nice smile, appearing warm, a good thing for a woman in her field. She smiled as my grandmother used to smile, before she’d pinch my five year-old cheeks and pull ten dollars out of her purse. Only thing was my grandmother was a nice lady who never had to work outside the house, while Anne had lost a fight to save her job. People in the admissions world talk about jobs and people. There were rumors about Anne, that she was very good at her job, but that she was “losing it.” I got no further details. Only wishes of good luck.
Anne made me wait nearly an hour while she talked with students and staff coming in and out of her office. That was rude. But it was not like I had anything better to do.
“Rob, come in,” she said, waving as the last person left. “Let me straighten out this hideous mess, before we chat.” She went from chair to chair collecting piles of application files and moved them into a corner behind her desk. “Can I get you anything, coffee, tea?” she asked as I took a file-free seat.
“Water’s fine,” I said. The hall outside her office had been extremely hot. That and my nervousness, my feeling that this was my last hope for a job, had me craving for a cold drink. Shame that the school had not bother to spring for a water cooler in the secured admissions officers.
With a file, presumably my resume in her hand, Anne settled into a large leather office chair, reclined back slightly and crossed her legs. “So why do you want to come to Alden?” she asked. “Why us?” Her blue eyes looked sad as she asked that question, as if she’d resigned to her fate.
“To be honest, Ms. Satterfield, I need a job. That’s the whole story.” I gave a very brief version of what had happened in my last job, without mentioning that “a woman” had been chosen over me, only a “co-worker.” Women are the majority in college admissions; they pretty much run this professional world.
“What do you know about Alden?” she asked. She took a quick peek at the display from various events, graduating classes and signed pictures of gratitude from former co-workers and students on the wall behind me.
I told her what little I’d found on the Internet, including the debate of over the college’s decision to go co-ed. I had also checked numbers. Applications kept going down, even though the college was converting single-sex halls to co-ed as we spoke. The marketing was terrible, focused on “traditions” instead of change. But had to bite my lip about marketing. A framed copy of a blown-up cover from the most recent brochure hung on the wall behind her desk.
“With due respect,” I concluded. “Alden has some serious problems. But I’ve worked at small colleges for 14 years. I’m sure that I can help.”
“Oh really?” Anne sat back more properly and put her hands on the desk, as bonus veren siteler if to guard it from an impending invader, maybe me. “What would you do that I have not? How would you come in to ‘save’ this place? Start a football team?”
“No, I wouldn’t. But I wouldn’t go crazy over finding men. You still need women.” I went through a list of scholarship programs I had helped start to attract more women to my previous college, backed by female faculty I’d befriended along the way. This school was strong in the arts, some social sciences, but not business or the harder subjects. Alden women had gone on to fine careers. But their true achievements came through work after college or further education.
Anne took out a handkerchief, dabbed her face of sweat and smiled. “You know, you’re the first one to say anything about women. I’m very proud of this place, and what its done for hundreds of young women. I don’t want Alden to become just like any other school. I want it to be special.”
It was best to let her keep talking. She went on and on about people who had come and gone from Alden College to far better things. She pointed to varied pictures on her walls to share the school’s past. As she finished her eyes teared, her makeup started to run. She brushed her tears with the handkerchief.
I started to get out of my seat to ask if she was ok; she might have wanted a moment alone to compose herself. But she told me to sit after she had brushed the make-up away.
“I haven’t asked any other candidate yet, but would you take a campus tour with me?” she asked.
I smiled. “I’d like that,” I answered. As I’d listened to her stories I’d come to respect her for loving her school. Most admissions directors come and go, until they get into their “dream job.” Anne had lived her dream longer than any of my peers, and superiors, had.
Anne was a chubby women, but she had an amazing bounce to her step as she showed me building after building, landmark after landmark, ending with the college gardens. She invited me to share a bench and described every flower and plant around us. Her eyes lit up as we watched orioles flying into a nest in the branches of one of the larger trees. “This is such a beautiful spot,” she said. “I’ve never come here with anyone before. Always alone.”
“Why?”
“It’s peaceful. If I needed nothing else these past few months, I needed peace. I can’t change, Rob. I can’t fight change.”
“Alden will always be a fine school,” I said, touching her hand. “I won’t forget anything you’ve told me.”
Her cheeks glowed as she smiled and folded her fingers into mine. I didn’t let go as we looked at the plants and birds around us. She settled her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes. For a moment I was tempted to shake her slightly. She might have fallen into a permanent sleep. Then I heard her breath softly.
“Please, stay here with me a little longer,” she said. “I don’t want to go back to the office just yet.”
I had no problem sitting in a garden with someone I barely knew, but closing time was approaching for the admissions office. “Can you get your purse, your car keys,” I asked. “Don’t want you locked out of your own office.”
Anne chuckled and winked. She had worn an Alden College lanyard around her neck, a spare key on the end. And she had not let go of my hand. “Promise me, Rob. Promise me you’ll take good care of my school,” she whispered, as her eyes teared once more.
I squeezed Anne’s hand tighter. “I promise,” I said. I’d already decided that, if I got the job, that I would ask the faculty and trustees to name the garden in Anne’s honor. She deserved more for her service, but this was one way I could help ease the transition from her to me. I can’t explain why, but I kissed Anne’s cheek as a tear rolled down.
“Ohhhh, that was nice, Rob. Do that again?” She grasped my hand tighter still.
My heart had jumped. Was she testing me, or really wanting for a kiss? The tear was gone, so I softly pecked her cheek.
“Noooo, like last time. Nice and soft.” Her hand had moved to brush my kneecap.
But what if a student, or god forbid, someone more senior, were to come into the garden?
“I love this place, Rob. But I never got a kiss here. I need one. Now” Her hand grazed my inner thigh as my leg softly shook then moved along my zipper line. There were risks, of course, but I did not stop her. Instead I turned to kiss her lips more fully.
“Sunsets here are so romantic,” she whispered after we’d shared our kiss. Spend this one with me.” I kissed Anne deeply as her fingers kept playing, her left arm around my shoulder, while her right hand unzipped me. “There’s another Alden tradition about this garden,” she said softly as bedava bahis she stroked me. The sun had started to set as she leaned over to take my cock into her mouth. She licked the shaft faster than I could ever expect, as if she’d never sucked a cock before. I thought of an ice cream cone about to crumble and melt, long licks not being enough to save it.
“Slow,” I said. “Take it in slow.” She grinned then kissed the head. The she sucked it in. Her head bobbed slowly over my cock as I ran my fingers through her hair. Anne almost gagged as my cum poured into her throat. Then she licked pretty much every drop off my cock and balls and zipped me back up.
“You know, Rob. You’re a very handsome man. You remind me of someone who sat with me here once, back when I was a student.”
I’d never thought of myself as extraordinary in appearance with short, though well-groomed sandy hair, brown eyes and average build. I blushed at the thought that anyone would consider me handsome, especially the Anne of the past.
Anne brushed a tear from her eyes. “He was kind, or at least pretended to be. But it was all a ruse. A dare from his fraternity friends. I thought someone might love a plump young girl, but I was so so wrong, and so so hurt.”
“I’m really, sorry Anne, that someone did that to you,” I said. The Anne of today, however, appeared regretful, though she also appeared more motherly. I’d loved my grandmother, but I’d never had the adult feelings for her that I had for Anne at this moments. My grandmother had never been one to reflect as Anne was doing now. We held hands and looked out into the sunset for another hour, then got up to return to her office to fetch her purse and car keys. I walked her to her car, then held the unlocked door open for her.
“Where’s your car?” she asked, after she rolled down the door window,
“Visitor parking. I can find it if I walk back.” There were students walking around campus on their way to wherever they were going, probably dinner, the student center or the library. Alden was a small school. Although Anne had given me the most thorough college tour of my life, there were really few places for students to hang out on campus.
“Nonsense, get in. I’ll take you there.” Anne unlocked the passenger door to let me in. After our evenings adventures I was reluctant to turn her down. Either she was going to recommend me to be her successor, or report me for sexual misconduct. But she’d appeared too needy and too nice to hurt me.
Anne quickly found my car and parked alongside it so I could go from her passenger door to my driver’s side, hopefully with no one seeing me. But there were no students around and the lights were dim. No way would this place be an evening hang out.
“Lets have dinner. Talk about Alden some more,” Anne said and she smiled. She turned off the ignition and settled her head on my shoulders again. I put my arm around her as she did.
“Sure,” I replied. “I’d like to learn as much as I can.”
“Well there’s another Alden tradition I’ve never experienced. But I want to. Right now.” She leaned over to kiss me once more and unzipped me once again. I was not exactly hard when she started rubbing, but it didn’t take her long to pull out whatever cum I could spare. She took a finger of my cum in her mouth and gave it a lick. Then she ran the finger along my lips for my kiss.
“Get in your car,” Anne said. “Follow me.”
I agreed, though I did not know what to expect as I followed her car. This was not the usual interview. I still had this sneaking feeling that I was being set up. But I also felt an attraction that I’d never felt for another woman. Anne was so different than anyone else who had touched my cock. I had this “Mrs. Robinson” feeling as I drove to her house, as if I could not turn Anne down, no matter what she wanted me to do to her.
Anne lived in an immaculately-kept bungalow house about ten miles from the Alden campus. Her living room was covered with stacks and stacks of books, most with aged bindings. A Bose CD player was atop a cabinet alongside pictures and heirlooms much like I’d seen in her office. But, as I’d seen in the office, all of the pictures featured women, no men.
Anne told me to wait in this room while she changed into a more casual one-piece v-neck dress that accentuated her curves and plumpness. Her saggy breasts were more prominent than I could tell from her more button-downed appeared before, as she felt free to be herself.She invited me to help her make a salad. As I cut carrots and cucumbers she playfully ran her fingers along my ass and spanked it gently. “Another Alden tradition,” she said, and winked.
Our dinner conversation was relaxed, mostly business, with many laughs, deneme bonus mainly more Alden stories. She’d made me wonder, not only about Alden traditions, but also how their women made their way in the world. I reminded myself that I was the only one she had invited to the garden since she was a young girl. At least I wanted that to be true. After dinner, she grabbed a bottle of wine and glasses and led me to her living room couch. She stretched out so her legs were in my lap and poured the wine for me first, then herself.
“To Alden,” she said, and we clicked our glasses.
Anne and I talked long into the night and finished the bottle, until she became too tired to talk about Alden any more. I had a slight buzz, but there was no reason that I could not drive back to my hotel room. Anne could not have been a better host. But I still had no idea if I’d impressed her enough to be her successor.
“Why don’t you stay here?” Anne asked. “I’ll make you breakfast in the morning. Might as well send you home with a good meal than the crap at that hotel.” She smiled and offered her hand. I took it. But we walked past her spare bedroom.
“I meant here,” she said, as she opened her bedroom door. At least the walls were not another museum to the glory of Alden College. There were paintings, but her name was on the bottom of each one. “I was an English major and an Art major,” she told me as I admired her artwork. Fortunately she was too tired to explain the substance of each piece, because I had become too tired to listen.
Still dressed, I laid down on the bed and closed my eyes. Anne lay down next to me, still dressed as well.
“Do you know what it means to be ‘de-flowered’?” she asked as she ran her fingers along my belly.
“Ummm, I think so.”
“You probably think it happens only to men.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ve been alone a long time, Rob. I was married, but it was not very long, with few men afterwards. To tell the truth, the marriage was my parents idea, more than mine. I’ve always been a fat flabby girl, no one really wanted me. I thought I could lose myself in school, then my work, but I’m too old, too tired for all that.”
She cried once more. I hugged her as tightly as i could. She pulled hard, bringing me close to her breasts, so close I could feel her shake and her nipples harden.
“Please Rob, stay the night,” she pleaded softly. “Stay with me.”
I’d gotten too sleepy for sex, but I was willing to stay on the comfortable bed.
We woke up early enough for breakfast before I would have my final meeting with the college’s search committee, which Anne was a part. I got up first and washed my face. The sound of the water faucet woke Anne, who told me where she had a spare toothbrush.
“I promised breakfast,” she said, then she kissed me full on the lips. “I never break my promises.” She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me again. Then she anxiously slid her tongue into my mouth. I relaxed as our tongues danced and our hands explored each other. “Fuck me, Rob,” she said, after she broke the kiss. “Fuck me now.”
She kissed me deeply once more and started rubbing my cock, gently at first, then faster, building heat. We’d fallen asleep dressed, now she was undressing me. “Take me,” she whispered. “Take me out of this dress.”
I wrapped my arms around her as I unzipped her dress, kissing down her spine as it fell to the floor. As I took her tits in my hands she bumped closer and rubbed against me with her abundant ass. That only made me bring her closer until she took my hand and stopped me. “Doggy,” she said. “I’ve never done it doggy style.” I entered her from behind, gliding in smoothly then explored deeper and deeper as I squeezed her curves. She squeezed with all she had as I pumped her faster and faster.
“Ohhhhhh yessssss! she shouted. “Mmmmmmmmmmm yesssssss! Spank it! Spank it now!”
I slapped her ass playfully.
“Noooooo harder Rob! Harder!”
I slapped her until the redness caused me concern, then we both came in a rush. After I slid out I rubbed my cum on her ass and the back of her thighs.
“Wow,” Anne said. “That was amazing. You’ve given an fat old lady a chance to live so many Alden traditions. I can kick my bucket list in the trash.” She kissed my cheek hard, as my grandmother used to do. Then she made us breakfast, highlighted by mimosas, shared in bed.
I left Alden that afternoon nervous and excited at the same time. A week later, Anne called me and told me that I had gotten the job. She would also act as my “consultant” during the transition. She invited me to move into her home—as her “housemate”—until I could find a place of my own. I doubted that anyone associated with the College would have concern about the arrangement, given the difference between Anne’s age and mine. In their eyes would be like son moving in with mother.
“There are more traditions to share,” Anne said, after she gave me the good news. “By the end of your first year, you will know them all.”