The Professor and the Cheerleader

by Lubrican

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Chapter Five

"I brought a change of clothes in my bag tonight," she said. "I don't have class tomorrow until ten, though."

They were lying in bed, naked, on their sides, facing each other.

"I have a lecture scheduled for nine in Dennison Hall," he said. "Components of the allegorical epic, and how that form affected succeeding forms of storytelling, both in verse and song."

"What the hell does that mean?" she asked, smiling at him.

"You should come and listen," he said. "It will illuminate some of what we're looking for in Eldridge's material."

"I might do that," she said. "It would be interesting to hear you talk about something you're passionate about."

"I hadn't planned on mentioning you during this lecture," he said, smiling.

"Awww, you're trying to get laid again, aren't you?"

"Forty-eight hours ago, I'd have said you were crazy to say that. Now it sounds almost ... normal."

"I hope it is normal. I want you to want to get laid."

"I'm just not used to the idea yet. You're kind of out of my league, you know."

"I know," she said, her face straight. "But I have this strange weakness when it comes to you."

"Could you illuminate that for me?" he asked, fearing he might be pushing her.

"I can," she said. "But I'll have to tell you some things I'm not eager to tell you."


"Because I'm afraid you'll become disenchanted with me."


"So you say, but there are things in my past that most of the world would say were both improper and immoral."

"Hmmmm," was his response.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"I was thinking about how I'm twice your age, and a member of the faculty, and I'm sleeping with someone who is not only a student, but my employee as well. Some people would judge these things to be both improper and immoral. And since I'm neck deep in them, were I to disdain you for your past errors in judgment, it would be as if the pot were calling the kettle black."

"I love the way you fuck me," she said. "But I also love the way you talk. This is fortunate, because, traditionally, couples spend more time talking than fucking."

"Stop beating around the bush and explain why you picked me," he said.

She was silent for a long time. He let her be that way. He'd already pushed more than he felt like he should have.

"I told you I was raised on a farm," she said.

He nodded.

"Our nearest neighbor was seven or eight miles away, and it was an old farmer and his son, who was about the same age as my dad," she said.

He waited.

"When I was growing up, the bus stopped at the end of our driveway, and then after school, dropped me off at the same place. I had chores to do. I wasn't allowed to date very often."

"Define 'very often,'" he said.

"I had to choose cheerleading or dating. My mother said there wasn't time to do both. And, since I could be a cheerleader when I was fourteen, but wouldn't be allowed to date under any circumstances until I was seventeen, I chose cheerleading. It was the only way to get out of the house. I got to go out on game nights, and there were ... other compensations."

"Such as?"

She looked nervous for the first time since he'd known her.

"My parents were too busy running the farm to chaperone me when I went to games and parties. So my Uncle Rick volunteered to take care of me. As it turned out, he took care of me in ways I don't think my parents originally intended."

Her inference was clear, but Bob had to nail it down.

"You mean he ... did things to you?"

"Yes," she said. She took a breath, but then let it out without saying more. She still looked nervous.

"Can I ask what?" Again, Bob had to know.

"Let's just say he taught me everything I know about sex," she said.

Bob blinked. It was pretty clear she knew a lot about sex. He reflected on that, and the things she'd already said.

"You used the word compensations," said Bob. "Under the circumstances, that seems like an odd word to use."

"I loved it," she said, in a rush. "I loved every second of it. The first time he sucked my nipples and fingerfucked me, I was addicted to him. I became his eager student. I'd do anything he asked me to. Anything. Basically, I was committing incest with my uncle, and I wanted it to go on forever."

"You weren't committing anything," said Bob. "It was rape, both morally and legally. You can't consent at age fourteen. You haven't got a clue at age fourteen."

"I'd argue about that, but I don't want to do that now. Instead, I'll just say that I fell in love with Uncle Rick."

"You only thought you were in love," insisted Bob. "You said it yourself. You weren't allowed to date. You'd had no relationships with boys, either romantic or otherwise. What you were feeling was hormones, that's all."

"You're trying to give me a way out of having the feelings I had. You don't need to. Maybe you're right, at least about when it first started. But it went on until I left for college. By then he was my lover, not my uncle. By then I was old enough to understand what was going on. And by then ..." She stopped and swallowed. She went on, but it was obviously with an effort. "By then my parents knew about it."

Again, Bob just stared at her while his mind turned over this new bit of information.

"When did they find out?" he asked.

"When I was sixteen."

"Wait. You're saying they found out and let it go on?"

"I think they were happy about it," she said.

"Come on," he scoffed. "No man is happy that his brother is boffing his daughter."

"Uncle Rick was my mother's brother," Kendra corrected him. "The point is, they wanted me to stay on the farm. And they wanted me to attract a man who would stay on the farm with me. Dad was getting on in years, and both my sisters had gotten married and gone off to live elsewhere. I think my parents were a little desperate, thinking that the farm would have to be sold, eventually, and they'd have to go live in a nursing home, or something like that. That would have killed my father. But they knew Uncle Rick couldn't keep doing this forever and, in a sense, he was just training me to be able to catch and hold a man, when the time came."

"They thought of him as your ... sexual trainer?" Bob's voice was an octave higher than usual.

"They never actually said that. That's just what I think. When they found out, my mother took me aside and talked to me, but the thing she seemed most concerned about was whether we'd been using protection or not."

"Had you?" asked Bob, who then felt instantly like a voyeur.

"He always used a condom," she said. "Always. Except for our last night, before I left for college. I wanted him in me bareback that night. I hoped he'd get me pregnant. I was very confused, back then. And even that was silly, because my mother had put me on the pill by then."

"You said your parents wanted you to stay home. So how did you end up in college?"

"Think about it," she said. "Basically, they wanted me as a brood mare, to attract a stallion who would help Dad on the farm when he wasn't servicing me. My job would be to raise sons to work on the farm as well. I knew what that kind of life was like, except for the actually having babies part. I mean I knew what it was like to never have time to do anything fun. When I said my parents accepted what Uncle Rick was doing, that doesn't mean they let him sleep over in my bed or anything. We still had to do it in the barn, or the back seat of his car and things like that. One time he fucked me under the bleachers after a game. His favorite was doggy style, because we could do that just about anywhere. On my prom night, after he dropped off my date at his house, he pulled into a field and had me stand up, bent over, while he took me from behind, still wearing my dress."


"Anyway, besides not wanting that kind of life, I think I already knew what was confirmed when I went to college."

"And what was that?"

"That I was spoiled. Sexually. I was pretty sure, after spending so much intimate time with a real man, that boys my age weren't going to be very interesting. I was right."

"I see," said Bob. "I just thought of something. Why didn't Rick just come live with you on the farm when you turned eighteen? He obviously loved you, or at least cared about you. And you loved him."

"He had a girlfriend," she said, simply.

"Oh," said Bob, who suddenly didn't like Rick very much.

"He married her as soon as I went to college."

"Oh." He frowned. "I'm sorry," he added. What he was thinking about was that she had transferred her feelings for her uncle to him. He wasn't quite sure that was either healthy, wise, or a good basis for a relationship.

"I'm not," she said. "If it hadn't been for him, I probably still would be back there, barefoot and pregnant. He was the one who suggested that I might be able to get a scholarship as a cheerleader. He took me to all the games, and watched me every night, just like you do. A girl can tell when a man is smitten by her, and he was smitten by me, just like you."

"Didn't he know your parents wanted you to stay on the farm?"

"Oh, yes. That's the ironic part. When we got caught, he expected them to act like he'd done something wrong. He felt guilty about taking my virginity when I was fourteen, and then fucking me every chance he got. He told me that dozens of times. He was always apologizing while he fucked me, and talking about how weak he was and stuff like that. And then, when nothing happened, and they kept letting him 'chaperone' me, I think he felt like they were the ones who were doing something wrong. I want to think he loved me enough to help me get out of that environment."

It sounds messy," said Bob. "But then all of life is messy."

She nodded. "When I got to school, I found all the boys, as pretty as they were, to be shallow and inexperienced and frustrating to be around. I needed to be with an experienced man, because I expected whatever man I was with to be as good as Uncle Rick was. And if he wasn't, I lost interest in him. Pretty soon, I gave up dating men my own age completely."

She reached for the glass of Coke she'd put on the nightstand, and took a sip.

"But it's not easy to find a decent man with experience. The good ones are married, and the divorced ones are usually inept in bed, as well as having some flaw their previous lover couldn't live with. I know that sounds harsh, and it's a generalization and all that, but that's what I experienced."

She went silent for ten or fifteen heartbeats.

"And then I saw you in the stands one night when we played OU, and I felt a spark. I didn't do anything about it then. I just thought I was horny. You have a beautiful smile. Did you know that? Your whole face lights up and you look genuinely happy. And then I saw you again at the next game, and the next. You were always there. I started looking forward to seeing you. That's when I asked one of the other girls who you were.

"I got curious about you and started poking around, trying to find out more about you. And then you put up all those posters, and I jumped at the chance to see what you were like in person."

She went silent long enough that Bob felt like he had to say something.

"I guess I passed inspection," he hazarded.

"With flying colors," she sighed. "You were polite, urbane, intelligent, and even witty, at least when you weren't tongue-tied. You were so cute when you ogled me and tried not to show it. You were everything I'd been looking for. Well, as far as I could tell, anyway. I had to get you in bed to see if you were perfect. When I did, I fell hard for you."

"I'm not perfect," he objected.

"Of course not," she agreed, a little too quickly. "Nor am I. But I think we're well suited for each other."

"What we're talking about, in terms of our future together, calls for something a little deeper than just being well suited for each other," he said.

"What I meant was I like you," she said. "And I think you like me too. Too many people start a relationship out of lust, and then find out they don't really like each other very much. That's why the divorce rate is so high, in my opinion. But I do like you. I haven't really enjoyed sex since I left home, but with you I do, and it isn't just because you're a good lover. I like the man I'm making love with now, and that changes everything, at least for me."

He felt hollow as he said it, but he felt it had to be said.

"I can't be your Uncle Rick."

Her eyes widened with what might have been shock, but then her face went calm.

"I don't want you to be Uncle Rick," she said, softly. "I'm aware now that he only used me. And my parents let him use me. All of them were selfish, and what they did was for their own selfish, misguided ends. I didn't know that then, and as sad as it was, I wasn't hurt by it. I certainly don't think I was damaged by it. But I don't go home any more. Uncle Rick will never touch me again. What I've been looking for is a man who cares what I want, and who will put my needs at the top of his list of things that are important to him. I want a man who loves me, and needs me. I hope I've found him."

Bob rolled onto his back. His fears were assuaged, in terms of worrying that she looked at him as her uncle. His problem now was the last twenty years of staring into the mirror each morning, and seeing a man no woman was interested in. Again, the fairy tale reference he'd thought of before entered his mind.

"I feel like I've wandered into a performance of Beauty and the Beast."

She rolled to press hot breasts against his side. Her hand went to find his penis, which was soft and pliable at the moment.

"If you'll recall, Beauty loved her Beast, which was what released him from the spell he was under."

"I'm not going to turn into some hot, young stud with a washboard abdomen," said Bob.

She massaged his cock, which was beginning to come to life.

"I'll take you like I found you, Beast," she said.

He thought about what was going to happen when she got him hard. He was now able to anticipate that, with firm belief that he would, in fact, have sex with this beautiful woman again. Many times.

"While we're still talking, let's get this pregnancy stuff out in the open. I understand how you feel about me now. Thank you for educating me. I can't hold your past against you, and I'll just fess up too that, besides those girls who taught me so much, there were a couple of their mothers who also availed themselves of my stamina. I say stamina intentionally, because didn't think of it as being some special talent I had. But that doesn't explain the lunacy of letting me impregnate you, particularly before having this conversation."

Her hand continued its lazy stimulation of his penis. It was almost as if she didn't care if he got hard enough for sex or not, but rather she just liked sliding her hand along his firm column of flesh.

"I'm not sure you're going to be able to understand that," she said.

"Help me," he insisted.

"When you're a girl, it becomes clear to you at a very early age that, someday, you'll have babies. It's assumed, a given. You're started off when you can barely walk. You get dolls, and those are your first babies. Later, before you can actually have your own, the training begins where you learn to look nice, to attract the man who will give you a real baby. It seems like half of your life is preparing, in one way or another, to become a mother."

"You don't have to be a mother," said Bob.

"Of course not, but that's not the attitude when you're young. Like I said, it's assumed."

"But you don't have to," he repeated.

"I'm trying to answer your question," she said, her voice suddenly firm. Her hand stopped and squeezed.

"Sorry," he said. "Please, go on."

"My point is that you are trained from a very early age to look for this man who will climb on top of you and push something long and hard inside you. You know you'll be basically helpless and you learn all this long before you have any concept of what romantic love means. It's scary! Why do you think the first man most girls want to marry is their daddy? He's not scary. He loves them. They can't imagine he'd hurt them. So if they have his baby, everything will be okay."

He frowned. "I never thought about it that way."

"You never had to worry about a man doing that to you," she said. "And then, sooner or later, you're exposed to a woman this has been done to, and you see how that changes a woman. Her belly is huge, and she waddles around. You hear about how much her back hurts, or her ankles are swollen, or she has this or that problem and can't wait to get that baby out of her belly. It doesn't sound like fun. You realize it isn't going to be like playing with your dolly. And yet, it's going to happen to you. That is still assumed."

Her voice paused, and her hand also paused, but squeezed, gently.

"So you start caring a great deal about finding the right man to do that with. Especially after you've had a taste of what a good man can be like."

"A taste," he said, thinking about her uncle, trying to imagine what the man looked like. When that morphed into fleeting images of a blurred male form on top of Kendra, he pushed that out of his mind.

"Okay, so I gorged," she said, starting up again. His cock was quite stiff now, but there was no urgency in him. It just felt good to have her touch him like this. Unconsciously, he acknowledged that by bringing a finger up to gently circle one of her ever stiff nipples.

"My point is that I knew what I didn't want. That part is easy. And when I saw you, and felt that spark, and got interested, and then met you, and found out what kind of man you are ... well ... you can't just pass up an opportunity like that, because they don't come along very often."

"That still doesn't mean you have to let me get you pregnant," he said.

"I know," she said. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that there have been all these men I didn't want to get me pregnant. The thought of them getting me pregnant was terrifying. No, that's the wrong word. I wasn't terrified. I was just very, very careful to make sure there was as little chance as possible for something like that to happen."

She leaned forward to kiss his chest, and then leaned back.

"And when you finally meet a man where you don't feel that ..." She stopped, and frowned. "Think of it like this. You're in some foreign country and you have no idea what the food is that you're being served. You take these hesitant little tastes, unsure whether you'll like it or not, but you're starving. And then, finally, you taste something that tastes familiar, like beef, maybe. It doesn't matter. My point is that, when you finally find that food you know you like, you're starving by then, so maybe you overeat a little bit."

"And you think of getting pregnant as overeating?" He didn't smile.

"No," she said, patiently. "I simply feel that any baby you make in me would, by definition, be a wonderful gift to me and the world. I don't object to your sperm penetrating my egg. I avoided that with every other man, but I'm not avoiding that with you. I'm not trying to get pregnant. I just don't mind if I do."

"Because I said I'd take care of you," he said.

"Because I know you'd want to take care of me," she replied. "You're asking me to make something very complicated, simple. My whole life as a female has been centered around what male would fertilize me. The simple answer is ... you're him."

"Wouldn't it be a good idea to wait a bit for something like that?"

"I can wait," she said. "As long as you keep trying."

"So you're not trying, but you want me to," he said.

"It's your job to try," she said. "I told you about the role of the female. You have your role as a male."

"Well, you could have fooled me up until the day you waltzed into my office," he said.

"That's all over now. You are my stud, and I am your mare. Speaking of which ..."

She didn't finish with words. Rather, she got up on all fours, sucked his cock until it was rock hard, and then moved around to present her bottom to him. She looked over her shoulder at him and wiggled her butt.

The urge hit him fast and hard, but he paused before accepting the offer.

"I'm not your Uncle Rick," he said again.

She stayed like she was, except that she moved her right knee outwards. The split of her pussy was plainly visible and accessible.

"I wouldn't let Uncle Rick touch me with a ten foot pole," she said. "This is your pussy now."

"Fuck, Kendra," he groaned.

She went down on her forearms.

"Yes, fuck Kendra," she said.

Thirty seconds later, he had a firm grip on her hips and he was lunging into her repeatedly. One of her hands disappeared under her and he knew she was rubbing her clit, doing what she knew would bring her to the pinnacle. He saw no physical sign that she'd gotten there, but he felt it. Her pussy grabbed at his cock, and she sobbed into the bed covers.

He let her do that twice more before he leaned over and rabbit-fucked her, until he spurted in her depths.

And this time, as he spurted, he felt no remorse at all that he might be impregnating her.

He slept hard, and woke only as she got out of bed. She moved to the bathroom as he slowly agreed with himself that he should wake up and get up. She had plenty of time to get to her class, but he needed to be clear-headed for his lecture. He was sitting up when she emerged from the bathroom, already dressed in fresh clothes she'd brought with her in her bag.

"What will your roommates think when you start staying out multiple nights like this?" he asked.

"Veronica practically lives with her boyfriend already," she said, forming her hair into her usual ponytail. "Rhonda was curious last time, but I think it was only to find out if I was seeing a guy or girl. She's thought for a while that I'm a lesbian."

"Because?" He wondered what kind of behavior would make a roommate think Kendra was gay.

"Because I never go out at all, except with groups of friends," she said. "It's easier that way. It's much easier to deflect the attentions of all those horny boys when you're in a group." She grinned. "Horny girls too, for that matter."

"What will those friends think?"

"It's really none of their business," she said.

"Still, you probably shouldn't come over every night," he suggested.

"I won't, but not because I'm worried about people finding out," she said.

"Why, then?"

"Because if I come over here every night, I'll be pregnant before the semester is over."

"If you aren't already," he said.

"True, that." He got another smile.

"Maybe we should make some plans about that." He was feeling a little remorse about how gleefully he had pushed deep and tried so hard to fertilize her.

"Is that a proposal?" She had an impish look on her face.

His levels of self-confidence were high. It was impossible for things to be otherwise, considering the turn their relationship had taken.

"What would you say if it was?"

"I'd say you were letting down your guard. I'd be happy. But I'd have to say no ... for now."

Her qualification caused conflicting emotions to war in his head. She came to stand in front of him.

"I love you. I know that," she said. "But we do still barely know each other. And I want this to last. I've waited too long to rush things now and create tension. I'm not going anywhere, but I also don't want to kill the goose that's laying the golden eggs."

"And if your golden egg has been fertilized, you don't think that's going to cause ... tension?" He was quite serious.

"Give yourself time to fully believe that this is real," she said. "I don't know you well, but I know you well enough to know you still have doubts. When those doubts have been dealt with, we can talk about the future."

"That statement alone causes my doubts to rage inside me," he admitted.

"See?" She leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Trust me until you can trust yourself. We'll be fine. It's two thousand fifteen. It isn't the world it was when you snuck around boffing those MILFs. When the time comes, we can be who we want to be, and be together and it won't matter what anybody else thinks about it."

"It's still not accepted for a faculty member to take up with a hot, young cheerleader," he said.

"We'll see," she said. "If I'm pregnant, that may change things."

"If you're pregnant, they may fire me," he said, morosely.

"I thought you had tenure," she said.

"I do, but there's a moral turpitude provision that will penetrate even that."

She stood up and arched an eyebrow.

"So ... am I worth having to move to another school ... another job?"

"Does a bear shit in the woods?" he responded, immediately.

"Good boy. I'd let you kiss The Girls goodbye, but if I did, I wouldn't leave. Don't worry. Everything will be fine."

"Spoken with the voice of callow youth," he said.

"Do you really think of me as inexperienced and immature?" She didn't look happy, now.

"No, and no," he said. "I just know how cruel the world can be."

"That was the old world. I'm in your new one. It had better already be much less cruel than it was."

"Oh, I can vouch for that," he said, and mustered a smile. "See you later?"

"I have some things I need to do tonight. Can I make up for it Saturday?"

"Are we working here Friday night?" he asked. "Because if we are, we probably won't get any work done either that night or Saturday."

Her grin was brilliant and infectious. "Ooooo, I like the sound of that," she said.

"I'll have to beat off tonight," he said. "You've been spoiling me."

"You'd better do no such thing," she said. "Your hardons are mine, now. I don't want you wasting any when I'm not here."

"I may have to beat off as soon as you leave," he groaned.

She turned to leave, bending over to pick up her bag. While she was bent over, she looked over her shoulder.

"If you do, save it in a cup and put it in the fridge. I'll want to drink it later."

"Shit, Kendra," he moaned.

"No thank you. Drinking your cum will be quite enough."

Then she was out the door, and the imagery she'd left in his mind removed the urge to touch his genitals.

That imagery fled, though, as he realized this woman intended to be in his life in a very intimate way for some time to come.

He couldn't wait to see where that led him.


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