Jody and Brooke

A lot of truly gorgeous women have graduated from my college. I guess we get enough applications that we can add beauty as a criterion for admission. The beauty of the women at my school has always impressed me, and I love the skimpy dress that they wear in our warm weather.

Teaching college is sort of a weird business. The faculty gets older over a 30+ year career, but the students are always 18-22. The faces change, but their age does not. So like many of my male colleagues, as I got to middle age, I began being attracted not only to the gorgeous students, but also their moms. Many of the moms returned the attention, if only to relive a little of their flirtatious selves from their past college days.

I met Brooke and her mom Jody during freshman orientation. Brooke was registered for one of my more challenging introductory courses, and was afraid she wasn’t good enough at math to handle the material. The three of us talked for over an hour about the class, the workload and college life in general. I learned that Jody was a graduate of the college, and being around my age, she had graduated before I joined the faculty.

There was no doubt that Jody was Brooke’s mom. Brooke was tall and shapely, with long, light brown hair reaching halfway down her back. She had the “girl next door” look to her, radiant and beautiful. Brooke was almost a carbon copy of her mother. Jody was a little shorter, with the same color hair, just trimmed shorter and more business like. Jody had the mirror image of Brooke’s face, with smooth skin and almost no makeup. Jody had larger breasts than her daughter, but they held their own even after three children.

Brooke had to go to another student orientation function, leaving Jody and me alone. We swapped stories of our college days, showed each other old pictures of ourselves on our phones, cringing at the clothing and hair of the day. When Jody asked if I could walk her around campus so she could see what had changed, I readily agreed. I enjoyed her company, and it was a beautiful, warm day. Truthfully, I was looking forward to seeing the freshman women as they competed to expose their trim, fit bodies to the boys in their class.

Jody chatted about this building or that, where she had a class, who the silly professor was; some of whom I knew in their later years, some of whom I had only heard of. As we walked slowly, students, some with their parents, hurried past us on their way to something important. A trio of freshman girls passed us, one wearing unbelievably tight yoga pants and a skimpy sports bra, another wearing severely cutoff shorts that exposed most of her ass cheeks, and the third wearing a sundress that would expose her ass if she bent over the slightest bit.

I guess I stopped talking when they passed, because Jody said, “I used to wear things like that. Now Brooke has them when she wants the “retro” look.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I said apologetically, coming back to earth.

“You know, Professor, it was really obvious that you were checking out those girls’ asses.”

I could feel the blood rushing to my face. Not the impression you want to leave on the mother of a new student.

“I-I’m sorry. I guess you’re right. Occupational hazard I guess,” I said, trying to make it a joke.

“You checked out Brooke’s ass when she left your office before,” Jody said more sternly.

“No I didn’t! I was admiring her long hair! I didn’t look at her ass!” I protested.

“Come on, Professor. You were so looking at my daughter’s ass. I don’t think I can leave her registered in such a horn dog’s class. You’re just objectifying my Brooke.” Jody was glaring at me now.

“I’m really really sorry, Jody. I didn’t mean anything by it, I would never disrespect your daughter. I’m a father too, I know how you feel,” I said, almost begging forgiveness.

Jody continued glaring at me as we stood in the middle of the quad. I thought I had really crossed a line, even if I thought Jody was overreacting.

“Do you know what I’m going to do?” she said loudly. “Do you know what I’m going to do?”

“No—wha’—please don’t, I–” I stammered, not knowing what was coming next.

“I am going to buy you a drink, that’s what!” Jody laughed. “You are as pale as a ghost. I really had you,” her green eyes sparkled. “That was so funny. Actually,” she said, threading her arm through mine, “I’m glad to see that you have not lost the ability to appreciate a good looking ass. Even if it is my daughter’s!”

I found I had broken into a sweat while Jody was haranguing me. The little bit of a breeze was bringing me back to normal, and I could speak again.

“So, are there any other buildings you want to see?” I said, desperate to change the subject with this alumna mom away from young girls’ bums.

“I want to go see my freshman dorm,” she said brightly. “Does Simms Hall still exist?”

“Sure, it is still there. I think it has been renovated since you were there but it is still the same place.”

“Maybe we can peek in my old room,” she said in anticipation. “Do you want to see where all the magic happened?”

“Absolutely,” I said, resisting the urge to ask what kind of magic happened there.

Tighter campus security meant that you needed an ID card to buzz into the dorm, and mine didn’t work. Probably makes sense they don’t want male professors able to let themselves into women’s dorms anytime they want. But, a cooperative student let us in, probably thinking we looked harmless.

“What was your room number?” I asked.

“406,” Jody replied as she pushed the elevator button. During the short ride, Jody told me about her roommate for freshman and sophomore years, a black all-star softball player who is now a neurosurgeon.

“Shirl is awesome, but in those days no one saw the doctor thing coming.”

Jody almost ran down the hall to 406. Some of the room doors were open, but not 406. Jody made a pouty face as she knocked on the door. No one answered.

“Well, that just sucks,” she said. I could tell you some good stories about the parties we had in there.”

“Maybe if we came back later,” I offered, “The residents might be in.”

Jody flashed a suddenly thoughtful look. “Let’s walk down the stairs, there is one more thing I want to see.”

I was surprised as Jody impulsively grabbed my hand and led me to the stairwell. She led me down two flights of stairs and then she stopped suddenly.

“Do you know what happened right there?” she asked, pointing towards the bottom two steps of the staircase.”

“I have no idea. You tripped and broke your arm?” I was clueless.

“Well, this is probably more than you want to know or I should tell you. You know, we just met. Never mind.” She continued to gaze at the stairs, her mind someplace else.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But after 30 years of teaching college, there is not much I haven’t heard of.”

Jody laughed. “I suppose that’s true. Hadn’t thought of it that way. Oh, well, this is where I lost my virginity.”

I stifled a laugh. “I can honestly say I did not see that one coming. Not a place I would have guessed. Those concrete steps look mighty uncomfortable.”

Jody got a faraway look in her eyes. “Not if you are on your knees and he lifts your skirt, tears a hole in your pantie hose and takes you from behind…” Now it was Jody’s turn to blush bright red. “Sorry. Too much information. Didn’t notice I was saying that out loud.”

She grabbed my arm and we left the stairwell. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to creep you out.”

“No, I’m the one who is sorry, Jody. You didn’t tell me the rest of the story,” I said with a grin, hoping to lighten the mood.

“No way, sailor. Go read some porn. You are just going to have to imagine the rest of the story,” she said with a chuckle. “Anyway, it was a long time ago.”

“I don’t think so Jody. It’s my turn to say something over the line, but I think you are beautiful today. You give Brooke a run for her money.”

Jody guffawed at me. “Wow, aren’t we the flatterer! I know you are lying, but thank you. I have to go meet up with Brooke now.”

“I’ll walk with you if that’s okay.” We were chatting aimlessly when Jody caught me off guard again.

“So when and where did you lose your virginity?” she asked amiably.

“Uh…wow…another one I didn’t see coming.”

“I told you mine, you have to tell me yours,” she demanded.

I was unintentionally truthful. “I guess it depends on what you mean by losing my virginity.”

She stopped walking. “There’s more than one definition?”

I wished I hadn’t been so forthright. “Let’s say different parts of me were deflowered at different times. As far as intercourse goes, it was like your experience, my first or second year in college. I was 18 or 19. But in bed, not on a staircase, hot though that sounds.”

“What about the other definitions? Something happened before college?”

“My tongue lost it much earlier. I was 13 or 14. In school. A teacher.”

Jody looked a little stunned. “Wow. That had to be illegal.”

“It was a different time. Kids didn’t live stream the stuff on their phones. Neither of us told anyone anything. Never told my parents or my brother. Or my girlfriend.”

“So…she just told you to go down on her out of the blue?”

“The rest of that you will have to imagine,” I said with a grin.

Jody shook her head. “No offense, but I can’t see why an adult teacher would go for a 13 year old.”

“Hey, I was really hot, what other explanation could there be? She came back for more several times. She wasn’t getting any at home, her husband was probably screwing around when he left on business. I was a booty call before it became a thing.”

“So you went down on your teacher, did she return the favor?”

“Why yes she did, thank you for asking. I had my first blow job at 13.”

Jody smirked a bit. “Well to tell the truth, I guess I lost it in stages, too.”

“Really?” I asked, genuinely surprised. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

Jody failed to laugh at my joke. “My first real boyfriend was older than me—big basketball player, got a scholarship to State. You would know his name if I told you.” She didn’t look especially happy.

“Jody, it’s okay. I get the idea.”

Jody seemed like such a tough person, I was surprised to see her tear up at the thought of that boyfriend. “No, I’m fine,” Jody said as she collected herself. “There isn’t really much to tell. He was an ass. I was 15, he was 18. Told me if I didn’t blow him he would break up with me. I fell for it. He had some balls, cause some days he would make me suck his dick two or three times. I had to swallow which wasn’t what I wanted to do the first time. And he was into that degrading fetish shit. It was awful.”

“It sounds awful, Jody, I’m sorry that happened. How did you get away?”

“He started the same routine with fucking. ‘Oh any girl in this school would fuck me in a minute, I wouldn’t have to ask. Why am I wasting my time on you?’ I screwed up my courage to break up with him. He was surprised. So I managed to protect my virtue until I got to the stairwell at Simms Hall.”

“I’m glad to hear that Jody. Kinky stuff is great, but only if you both are ready.”

Jody arched an eyebrow at my mention of kink, but said nothing. I saw the students spilling out of Murray Auditorium where the last orientation session of the day had been held.

I blushed a bit. “Here comes your daughter. Let’s talk about something else.”

It was easy to spot Brooke, towering six inches or so above the surrounding students. She came over to us.

“Hi Mommy! Hi Professor. Did you have a good time Mommy?”

“Yes, we had a lot of fun. The Professor here was a good companion.”

“Did you have a lot of fun, or a lotta, lotta fun?” Brooke asked with more than a twinkle in her eye.

Jody appeared to lance Brooke’s inquisitiveness with an icy stare. “As I said, it was a lot of fun.”

I didn’t think much of the exchange at the time, but it didn’t involve me, so I never thought of it again until much later.

We talked about Jody buying me that drink, but she had a long drive ahead, and I had to teach her daughter’s class at 9:00AM, so we agreed on a rain check. Jody and I air kissed goodbye, and I left mother and daughter to say their longer goodbyes.

…

Over the next few weeks, I got busy with classes and research and didn’t think of much else. Brooke and I would exchange morning pleasantries in class and I would ask her to say hi to her mom for me. Happily, Brooke was doing much better in my class than she expected. She was better at math than she thought. Just another semester.

Jody found my email address on the college web site and would briefly write me about life in her world. I learned then that she had a husband, Brooke’s dad. Jody had been a physician’s assistant, but only worked sporadically when the kids came along. It sounded like they had an arrangement—he would make lots of money, she would spend it freely and she would raise the three kids, of which Brooke was the youngest and the only girl. Beyond that, it didn’t sound like there was a lot of interaction.

After a few friendly exchanges early in the term, Jody started adding less than innocent bits to her emails. “Still checking out young girls’ asses?” or “I told Brooke to wear baggie pants to your class so you wouldn’t look at her ass.” (In reality, Brooke always wore the shortest, tightest spandex dresses imaginable. So I guess she didn’t listen to her mom). Once she asked me, “Are you strictly an ass man or do you like tits too?” I told her I wouldn’t answer that one on campus email. After a couple weeks, our correspondence tapered off to nothing.

Several weeks later, Brooke stopped to talk to me after class one day soon after midterms. She said that her mom was coming up for homecoming and wanted to take the three of us (me, Brooke and her roommate) out for a nice dinner.

“Isn’t your dad coming too? Homecoming is a big deal here,” I asked.

Brooke looked a little sad. “He didn’t graduate from here. He is a bit of an Ivy League snob. He was disappointed that I came here on a lacrosse scholarship, so he avoids me and my school.”

“I’m sorry Brooke, I had no idea.