Looing for Adventure

Looking for Adventure

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Dear Readers,

As always, thank you for choosing to read one of my writings. I appreciate your support, love to read your comments, and hope you enjoy the read!

~Apple

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It never ceases to amaze me, even after six years of teaching university level courses, that at least one student will think they're smarter than you. In an age where universities and professors have software to scan papers and pick up on key words and plagiarized thought flow analysis, you would think they would stop stealing from people's works. But there's always one that tries each year, if not each semester.

Many may think the life of an academic is boring. Many are wrong. Life is anything but boring for me. I teach at a mid-sized, private university, where the students come from far above average incomes and often have less than average intelligence. This is especially true for many of those who utilize forms of plagiarism or copyright infringement, and think mommy and daddy will pay their way out of trouble.

However, that wasn't the case this time. In this particular case, the young woman in question was a student of high moral and ethical character. She had an excellent reputation with the faculty and, in general, was an all around star student. Of course, I didn't know all of that until after I identified the culprit.

She was a scholarship student working on her Master's degree and she worked as the student assistant to the Provost.

So, that evening, when I found Julia was the culprit behind the ruse, I was a little surprised and somewhat oddly pleased by the turn of events. By oddly pleased, I mean, there is always that spark that gets ignited in me when someone who is labeled as a good girl, does something bad, or at least naughty. It restores my faith in the balance of human nature, and to be truthful, it brings out the bad boy in me.

Of course, Julia went above and beyond at being naughty, just as she excels at being good. Again, to my surprise and pleasure. She did so well, if I were grading her, I'd have to give her extra credit for the way in which she went about it. And, because her naughty behavior wasn't acted out in a classroom or even on our own campus, I couldn't hold her accountable to the Board of Students, but I would hold her accountable in one way or another.

I had to be as creative with her as she was with her little set up. And, since I caught her 'stealing' some rather good lines, from a rather intelligent and well versed writer, ie: me, I felt that I had leeway on how I decided to handle the situation.

Also, I was very curious to find out what her reasons were behind her little game. It was a rather devious act to be committed by such a mild mannered, well behaved, and high achieving young woman and student. Maybe that's what most impressed me, at least at first.

Since it was my work she

borrowed,

and used for her devious plot, I felt it right and just that I was able to hold her answerable. And, in doing so, I was able to apply my rules to her actions and her punishment. And, my rules were very strict and came with equally strict punishments.

Looking back, the only error in Julia's plan was that she was under the belief that none of the faculty of our somewhat uppity university would be reading the local underground newspaper. She thought, and wrongfully so, that only the student body would respond to her ad.

Shame on her!

************

Julia's ad was titled,

Looking for Adventure,

and was posted in the alternative lifestyle section of the small, but fairly well written underground paper, The Guardian Report. I'm not sure, but I may be the only professor who reads the Guardian. What I am sure of is that I'm definitely the only professor who has not only answered ads posted there, but has posted one or two of my own.

So, when I read the ad of a young woman who was, and I quote, "looking to be a naughty little school girl" and continued with "I'm a sapiosexual, who enjoys a large...vocabulary," I smiled. When I continued to read her ad, I realized, by her choice of meeting places, that she was most likely a student at the university. As I continued, I knew she was also a student of one of my classes. I knew this because she included part of an unpublished poem I read to my class earlier in the semester. A poem, I wrote.

Like a fallen angel

I want to accept the darkness

Like a flower's pedal

I want to fall open to you

The ad went on to describe the type of man she was interested in and what she wanted from him. I fit the look and intellect part of her request. And, as for her specific requests of how she wanted to meet and what she wanted done to her, well, like I said, my life is anything but boring. So, I responded to her ad.

My response was a little longer than I had expected, but I wanted to be thorough and make sure she knew exactly who she would be meeting and what she was getting into. I promised her that I could provide her with the scene she requested and then some.

Reading over my reply, I was happy with it. It read:

Dear Bibliophile,

I too am a lover of books and find myself lost in them often. So, we already have something in common. As a student of life, if not the university, I'm intellectually focused and more than able to carry on and maintain...

an intelligent conversation on a variety of subject matter

. I enjoy meeting new friends and exploring all sorts of things. Kink, as you put it, is one of my favorites to explore. Some would describe me as a guide of sorts.

I am particularly drawn to women who, as you described, "love the company of a strong, intelligent, dominant man, who knows how to be creative, take control, and direct the activities," all of which are characteristics and abilities I possess. Hence, the reference to being your guide.

As to requirements of being a "physically fit man or an athlete," I am fully mentally and physically fit, healthy, and enjoy an active lifestyle.

In addition to your stated requirements, you may be interested in knowing that I am very communicative, wildly creative, and extremely unconventional in all things. I would also use the term authentic, but I find it is overused and therefore, devalued.

My experience and skills include a complete curriculum of subjects and techniques that are able to cover the needs of introductory level activities through graduate course work. If you choose to take my course, I promise to aid you in exploring the outer bounds of your comfort zone and, if you're up for a challenge, possibly give you some advanced work for extra credit.

Sorry, at this time, I choose not to exchange pictures online. However, I'm willing to provide you with an accurate description of my physical appearance. I've been told that I'm relatively easy on the eyes. I'm 6'2", hover around 200-210 pounds, have dark brown eyes and hair. Although I'm not an athlete, I am athletic in build, and participate in sports activities. And yes, I do have a clean bill of health which I will bring proof of if you decide to contact me and set up a meet.

As an added bonus, I'm inherently sexually dominant and creatively imaginative in that area.

Looking forward to our potential encounter and making a new friend.

Typing in her coded ID number, I hit send and wondered which student was so daring as to post such an ad and include lines from my poem.

Julia was not at the top of my list. In fact, she wasn't on my list at all.

************

Surprisingly, after I sent my response, I found myself somewhat excited about the chance to meet the little vixen bibliophile who was basically advertising for anonymous sex among the bookshelves of our sister university's library in the next town. The campus was about ten miles away and our students utilized both campus libraries, so I'd have to be careful if we met.

I checked my inbox more than a few times that day. Right before I went to bed, I checked it one last time...still nothing!

My subconscious got the better of me that night. My dream was all over the place. At one point, the entire female population of my classes was waiting in the bookstore when I arrived. One by one they cat called me as I walked through the aisles of books to the back of the library and took the spiral, iron staircase up to the second floor.

In another part of the dream, it was Bridget waiting for me. She was a little red redhead that sat in the front row of my English Lit class and always had one too many buttons undone on her blouse. She also dropped her pen a lot. Not that I noticed.

Right before I woke up, Ms. Hirsch, the biology instructor, was the woman waiting in the back of the second floor of the library. She kept asking me if I was up on my knowledge of female anatomy. I assured her that I was...then I woke.

I was thankful to finally wake up from what was a fitful night's sleep. The sun was barely peeking through my window when my alarm went off. Why does it always feel like seven a.m comes so much sooner when you sleep like shit the night before?

As I ground the fresh beans for the morning pot of coffee, I opened my laptop and signed in. While the water came to a boil, I decided to check my mail. There it was, a message from the Guardian Personal Ad section with her ID number.

I was in. She said she wanted to meet. This evening, at six-thirty.

My morning included a few student appointments during office hours, which ended at eleven. My first class was at noon, my second at two. So, I'd be back at home by late afternoon.

I was home by four and able to shower and change before leaving for my rendezvous at the library. I put on a freshly laundered, white, button up shirt and jeans. I tied up my Doc Martens and headed out for what I hoped would be an interesting few hours.

Arriving a little earlier than expected, I found a quiet corner in the back by the circular staircase and waited. I found it unusual that there was so much activity in the library on a Friday evening. Even more odd was that much of it was made up of young men, who based on the number of letterman jackets and sports jerseys, were obviously athletes.

Just how many offers to her ad did she accept?

I watched as every ten minutes or so, one or another of them walked up to the base of the stairs, looked around, and then proceeded up the stairs...only to come back down with a disappointed look on their face a few minutes later.

Immediately, I was suspicious. So, I decided to monitor the situation for a while. I took the back supply elevator up to the second floor. I sat down behind one of the computer desks that had a large column and half wall separating the study area from the library. This area was basically empty and I didn't look as suspicious as I would have had it been a busy time of day.

I gave my little vixen points for choosing the perfect area in which not to be seen. Basically, in order to be seen in the area she chose, you'd have to be looking for specific titles in the study of 16th Century English Literature.

Unless you were studying the Renaissance and looking to read a little Milton, you were safe back here. In other words, normally this section of the library was empty. So, the fact that several young men, jocks no less, were walking in and around the area, looking frustrated and angry, made me think that someone was playing a trick on them...and by association, on me.

Once I realized what was most likely occurring here, I was annoyed. I was also a little impressed, because it was rather an elaborate ruse to play. I had to imagine there was a reason behind it, but I had no idea what it was. I also realized that because it was such a detailed set up, and so well timed, she'd want to be around to see the results.

So, I slowly scanned the area to see which young lady was paying more attention to the comings and goings of these men than the others were. It didn't take me long to identify a beautiful brunette sitting against the wall of windows, peeking over her laptop.

Every few seconds, she'd peek up and smile as one or more of the young men circled the book shelves as if looking for someone. When they realized the person they were looking for wasn't there, they left in huff.

I watched for about twenty minutes or more. Finally, there was a quiet moment. I waited a few more minutes and realized that it didn't seem any more young men were invited to her little prank. I continued to observe her as she smiled with a look of satisfaction on her face and packed up her books and laptop.

It was then that I decided she needed to be taught a lesson. So, I moved around the back wall and came up behind her. It wasn't until I was fairly close to her table that I realized it was Julia. I was surprised that she was the one to be so devious. Julia was an excellent student and always so pleasant. I couldn't imagine why she would do something like this.

Regardless, turnabout's fair play. So, I continued with my plan as it evolved in my head realtime.

Just as she tossed her book bag over her shoulder and was about to stand, I placed my hands on her shoulders and held her down in her chair.

She gasped at my sudden and unexpected touch. But before she could turn around to see me, I leaned down and whispered in a menacing voice, "Do not move little girl."

"What do you want?" Her voice was quiet, but I could tell she was shaken.

"You know what I want. I want what you promised in your ad."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't place any ad. I have nothing to do with it."

If her voice didn't break as she mentioned, the ad, and if she didn't add on the

nothing to do with it,

part, I may have believed her. But I had watched her pleasure in seeing the annoyance on the boys faces when there was no young lady waiting to be ravaged by them behind the bookshelves. I also watched as she glowed in delight when each one walked away frustrated.

To my surprise, and utter delight, Julia was a little tease. What other reason could there be for her game?

I looked down upon her crown of thick brown locks. Her hair was shoulder length and wavy. Her complexion was what I remembered being called peaches and cream when I was a boy. She was of medium build, not too tall, about five feet, six inches tall and had a curvy body. Her breasts were kind of large for her overall size, but they were well supported in what was no doubt an underwire bra.

"Oh, but I think you do. In fact, I've been watching you for some time now and I know you do. So, confess now or I'm going to hold you to your request and take what I came here for."

"I said, I don't know what you're talking about. Now, let me go or I'll scream."

Hmm...feisty. I like that. Immediately, I calculated the odds of her screaming against the odds of her wanting to explain her ad and its content. I was going to push my luck and bet she wouldn't scream.

My hand went to the back of her neck and I applied slight pressure with my thumb on one side and my fingers on the other.

"Go ahead, scream. I'd like to hear you explain the ad you placed and why you want to be taken anonymously in the Classics section of the library. Go ahead little girl, scream for me. I actually like it when my naughty little girls scream."

She was silent for a few seconds. I could almost hear her debating what to do next. I felt a shiver run through her, and at that moment, I realized she was actually excited by our exchange.

"You have two choices. Scream now, or do exactly as I say and I may allow you to quietly scream a little later."

Giving her a few seconds to think things over, I waited. My thumb caressed up and down the side of her neck and I was sure she leaned into it. It was a barely perceptible move, but my trained eye picked up on it. I pushed her to decide.

"What's it going to be? Because I'm willing to bet that you placed that ad from your laptop. I'm also willing to bet that it's still in your email. I'm also willing to go as far as to say, you have all of the responses saved too. Am I correct?"

"What do you want?" she asked in a much more demure tone of voice.

"That's better, little one. Now, let's see if we can't fulfill those needs and wants you described in your ad.

"And, if I've changed my mind?" she asked as I instructed her to get up and move slowly to the back section of the library.

It was now close to seven o'clock and the library would be closing at eight, so I had to think and move fast.

Still holding her by the back of her neck, we walked down the last three rows of books and I pushed her into the next to the last row. She faced the bookshelf as I moved in closer to her. Our bodies touched, I leaned close to her ear and whispered to her.

"Pull the Marlowe book to your right."

"Why?"

"Because I told you to," was all I said as I watched her do as she was told.

She slid her hand along the shelf and pulled the book of writings by Christopher Marlowe.

"Now what?"

I could tell she was trying to sound confident, but her bravado wasn't quite there. I slid my size 11 Doc Martens between her feet and pushed her legs to a wider stance. Again, she gasped as my body touched hers in an all too familiar way for a complete, or not so complete, stranger.

Even though I was playing with her, I was semi erect from the excitement of the game. I had no intention of carrying through with any sexual activity once I realized she'd been playing some kind of mind fuck game. Though, I've always enjoyed a good mind fuck of my own, I figured she deserved a little of her own game played back on her.

"Stand very still," I instructed. "Don't move and don't say a word until I tell you to. Understand?"

"Yes," she whispered in her most polite library voice.

"That's a good girl."

As I said it, I watched and felt her body respond to my words. That's when it hit me. She was getting into my game...or was it still really her game?

"You like that, don't you?"

"What?" she said, trying to sound unaware of what just happened to her, with her, in her.

If I was a betting man, I'd bet my little vixen just got warm and wet in her private parts. And, I was so tempted to reach down and find out. But I waited. I knew she wanted more and I wanted to give it to her.

Julia stood there, just as still as a deer in headlights. She didn't move a muscle or mutter a word. I looked at the book she held and tried to remember if it contained the poem I wanted.

"Open the book and find Marlowe's: Who Ever Loved That Loved Not at First Sight?" I instructed her. Slowly, her hands moved and she followed my directive.

"I found it."

"Prop the book up on the shelf. Then extend both of your arms out to the sides and grasp the shelf. Do not move your hands off the shelf, no matter what. Understand?"

"Yes."

I watched as she did as she was told. I could see her body respond to my command and I knew she was being totally affected by my dominating manner. She was a natural submissive as she followed each direction without question and with a willingness only a natural submissive exhibits.

"Now, read it aloud. Nice and slow. As if you were reading it to your lover."

I heard her take a deep breath as I whispered my last command into her ear and waited for her to start her reading. She started with the poet's name and the title of the poem.

"Christopher Marlowe," she said.

The only sound to be heard was the light hum of the computers in the section behind us. Otherwise, the area was silent except for my whispered commands, her soft response, and the occasional gasp or deep breath from Julia as I continued to tease her.