A River Runs in Vermont

Her focus of arousal was not on Chad anymore. She stared at her own tits, the nipples a light shade of brown. She pinched and pulled at them till it hurt. Panting, she grabbed her breasts with both hands, imagining a rough lover fondling her. She saw lust and fire in her own eyes. Leaning over the sink, she wanted to kiss herself in the mirror. She stuck her tongue out, licking her own reflection. She marveled at her grotesque actions.

Her heart raced. She was scared, confused, yet horny. What had happened to her? What kind of nymphomaniac had she turned into? Why?

She lifted her left leg, resting it on the rim of the sink. She rubbed her pussy lips. They were not quite wet yet. She saw the hand soap bottle and pumped out a few drops of the slippery liquid and applied it to her cunt. She rubbed her clit, and used each hand to tug on each of her pussy lips. An animal cry escaped from her throat. From the reflection in the mirror, she saw the pink opening inside her vagina. The electric toothbrush beckoned. She grabbed it and switched it on.

At that same moment, the bathroom lights flickered, as if the power supply had been interrupted or some heavy appliances had drained energy away from the generator.

She stuck the handle of the vibrating toothbrush inside her cunt. The buzzing sensation was not as strong as her vibrator. But she did not want to waste any time to go to her bedroom. This would have to make do. She rapidly moved the electric toothbrush in and out of her pussy, while pressing it on her clit at the same time. It felt like the cock of a nameless man, any man. All she could hear was the humming of the little motor inside the toothbrush, as if it were as loud as the roar of a washing machine.

The reflected image of her furiously fucking herself in the bathroom was both erotic and frightening. She bit her lower lip, closed her eyes as the orgasm engulfed her. Her legs were shaking. Her knees buckled. After almost blacking out, she collapsed on the cold floor tiles in the bathroom.

The toothbrush slipped from her hands. And she curled up in a fetal position. She wanted to feel warm and safe in her own embrace. All of a sudden, she felt so lonely.

**********

She saw herself being sucked into the mirror, being tossed through a dark, endless tunnel. Numerous hands tried to grab her to break her fall, all unsuccessful. She was being lifted out of her bed, tossed into the sky. When she looked down, buildings, cars and landscapes zoomed out of her sight. Shivers went down her spine. Ants were crawling down her neck.

She screamed, and woke up in a pool of sweat.

**********

Still drained by the previous night's bizarre activities at home, Joanne arrived at the office late. For her, 9:15 was late enough. She was trying to stay awake with help from a cup of cafeteria coffee,.

A group of students gathered around the reception area, watching some breaking news on the television.

"Joanne. Come here and look," Debra said.

"What's happening?" Joanne asked.

"The White River has flooded overnight. And White River Junction, the train station we passed by on our trip? It was closed because the tracks were damaged."

"That's strange. The river never seemed that rapid and massive. And there shouldn't be any more spring thaw at this time of the year. Besides, the Skylight Pond is such a small body of water."

"I know. Aren't you glad, Joanne, that we finished the data collection before this flood? Otherwise you have to wait for god-knows-how-long."

"That's true," Joanne nodded.

**********

Joanne was working late hours tonight. She was very tired. Only two hours of uninterrupted sleep last night. All day she was like a zombie, walking around, muttering instructions to her assistants. She really wanted to go home and go to bed early.

She was trying to access the database to see the graph showing the findings in a visual format. But the computer message said, "File corrupt." She worried.

"Debra. Come to my office. Something's wrong with the scattergram," Joanne summoned her student from the bio lab over the phone.

One minute passed and Debra was still not there.

When Joanne was about to pick up the phone again, Debra stumbled in, smartphone in her right hand, thumb typing and left hand opening the door. She apologized.

"She must be texting Chad," Joanne was thinking to herself and got more furious. "Come and check."

She stood up and let Debra sit in her chair to type on the keyboard, in the process banging the chair against her desk.

Debra knew her professor was really upset, so she just focused on the screen and tried to trouble shoot the problem. She dared not volunteer any excuse.

"File not found ... File corrupt ... Missing parameters." The screen spit out ominous messages.

"I can fix it. Don't worry." Debra was offering lame assurances.

Her smartphone buzzed in the breast pocket of her denim jacket.

"Debra. You really have to learn to separate your personal life and professional life here. You're working now, on duty. Don't be distracted. I don't care what you do after hours, outside of the lab. But when you're on duty, you need to devote 100% of your attention," Joanne snapped.

"Yes, I know. I understand," Debra tried to reach into her pocket to switch off the phone. Not only was the buzzing annoying, but it created a tinkling sensation on her left nipple. She couldn't be distracted.

"Unsuccessful attempt to connect to server."

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Joanne got really mad. Standing behind Debra, she reached down into her pocket and tried to remove the phone. She wanted to smash it on the floor and stomp on it. But the breast pocket was so small that the phone was stuck. Using her left hand to hold the jacket, she used her right hand to take the phone. In this struggle, she ended up grabbing Debra's left breast repeatedly, with both hands.

"Stop the stupid phone!" Joanne barked at Debra.

The image of the young student's naked body in the campground shower came back to her.

"Joanne, please, don't ..."

How Debra complimented her hair.

Joanne was clawing at Debra's breast. "I am sorry, Joanne ..." Debra was scared.

Did Debra see her naked upper body that morning? Did Chad also see it? Did they laugh and make fun of her? Smartphones, oh my god. Did they also take pictures and broadcast them on the web? Or even clips on YouTube? No wonder the Dean had such a strange look at her last week at the meeting. Now her career was ruined. All because of this stupid assistant and her horny boyfriend. They fucked in the tent, which made her horny, which caused her to masturbate, which caused her tits to be exposed.

Joanne spun Debra around in the swivel chair to face her. She grabbed Debra and lifted her out of the chair. She yanked off Debra's jacket and threw it away. "When I was your age, I published three papers already. All you do is fool around."

Debra was in tears. She held her forearms in front of her body, trying to protect her tits. With a raised right hand, Joanne almost wanted to slap Debra on the face, for the software failure, for her carnal activities, for being young and beautiful. But she knew better than launching physical assault like that.

Like a possessed soul, instead, Joanne grabbed both of Debra's tits.

"Please, let me go, Joanne, please." Debra was hysterical.

Joanne wasn't sure if the grabbing was for her sexual satisfaction, or for release of her frustration. Frustration at what?

Debra kept waving her arms in front of her body, trying to ward off the attack, with little success. Behind her was the swivel chair, and then the computer. If Joanne pushed any further, Debra would end up falling backwards and sitting on the keyboard. Which was what happened.

The computer emitted a series of quick beeps, resulting from Debra's butt sitting on the keyboard.

Debra did not want any more damage to the program, from the errant keystrokes. So she turned around and tried to at least press EXIT. Joanne kept clawing. Now with Debra's back to her, she simply grabbed the younger woman's tits from behind.

"Please, please, Joanne, please don't," Debra was pleading in tears.

Joanne started to come to her senses and lowered her hands. In trying to catch her own exhausted body from falling, she held onto Debra's shoulders. She panted, resting her forehead on the back of Debra's shoulder.

Then she let the young woman loose. "I am sorry. You should go now. We'll fix the program tomorrow."

Debra quickly ran over to the other corner of the room, picked up her denim jacket, and sped out of the office.

Stunned at her own craziness, Joanne collapsed in her chair, holding her head in her hands. Would this be the end of her career? If Debra ran to campus police at this moment, the college could file sexual harassment charges. If Debra pushed it far enough, she could be escorted away in handcuffs. Sexual assault ... after jail time, she needed to be registered as a sexual offender.

What was wrong with her?

**********

After another night of tossing and turning, Joanne dragged her feet to work. She felt like her legs were being weighed down by some 50-pound dumbbells. Again she saw a group of students gather around the TV as she walked in. The chatter was still about the flooding of the White River, even though the amount of overflowing water had diminished. Everyone was surprised and dumbfounded at this strange ecological event.

She avoided eye contact with Debra, who seemed to show a nonchalant attitude towards the things around her. A flyer on the desk caught Joanne's attention.

"In celebration of Earth Day, the Philosophy Department presents a Public Lecture by Prof. Dennis Wu, on 'Eco-balance and Chinese Philosophy.' Room 321. Main Hall. Today at 10 a.m."

"That sounds like an interesting topic," Joanne wondered aloud.

"Probably more of the Yin and Yang infinity-existentialism-crap. You can get that in a fortune cookie," Chad sneered. He made a mock bowing gesture, like a Buddhist monk.

Debra was really pissed at his ignorance and arrogance. "You're such a racist. So all Chinese philosophy is related to takeout orders? Joanne, you wanna go? I'll go with you."

"Yeah, why not? Get some fresh air from the other side of the campus," Joanne agreed.

It was a 10-minute walk to the Philosophy Building. The morning sun was warming the frost created by last night's event in her office.

"I fixed the software problem. It was only a corrupted index file," Debra said, looking down at her feet as she walked.

Joanne was pleased with the remedy to the computer issue, but more pleased that her student did not avoid the reference to what happened the night before. "I'm really sorry about last night. I don't have a good explanation for that. But excuses are meaningless. I apologize for scaring and hurting you," Joanne looked over to Debra, with a tint of shame in her voice.

"No, no, no. Don't worry. I didn't tell anyone, and I won't. You are too stressed about work and the grant. That's all. We all get cranky and wacky."

"I know, but not that kind of wacky."

"So, ... are you ... er ... really ...'" Debra pondered whether the L word was appropriate here, "interested in women?"

Joanne laughed lightly, "I don't think so."

"There is nothing wrong with it, if that is who you are. One of my cousins is a lesbian, and she and her partner adopted a child from Africa."

"Are you borrowing a line from that sitcom? So you are playing psychiatrist now?" Joanne said to herself.

They walked again in silence for another minute.

"But ... if you were ... I mean, ... do you think lesbians would be interested in me?" Debra blushed and phrased the question tentatively.

"Why don't you ask your cousin?" They both burst into laughter, providing a moment of comic relief. But Joanne got the undertone of Debra's question. She added another mental note, "If you really have a lesbian cousin."

Arriving at the Philosophy Building, they located the room and sat in the middle row. Prof. Dennis Wu, a 60'ish scholarly looking man, was organizing his lecture notes. Joanne and Dennis started working in Vermont in the same year, so they went through some of the same orientation functions together. Since then, at many of the cocktail receptions hosted by the president and the deans, they would nod to one another, and sometimes shared small talk.

Still 15 minutes before the start of the lecture, and only about 10 people in attendance at this point. Joanne walked over to Dennis and shook hands.

"How have you been?" Joanne asked.

"Busy, busy," Dennis answered.

"Aren't we all?" Joanne said.

"Yea, your mom doing ok in ... Portland, right?" Dennis asked.

Joanne was amazed at how he paid attention and remembered that. "Yes, she's doing fine in the nursing home. My brother visits her more regularly. I'm the bad daughter."

"And he works in San Francisco?"

"Has he memorized my bio?" Joanne was blushing. "Yes, he's there." Now, how many kids did he have? She could only remember he was a widower.

"My son is graduating this year from UC Santa Barbara. MBA. And my daughter just started her Ph.D. in psychology at Stanford." His volunteered answer filled the gap of silence.

"Impressive," said Joanne -- "Your children's achievements, and remembering so much about me," she thought. This guy seemed to be able to read minds. Or was he just reading her mind? "I'll let you get set for the talk."

"Thanks. I'm glad you're interested in this topic. You're doing the scientific part of environmental studies and I look at it from the conceptual side," said Dennis.

Joanne had to drag her jello-like legs back to her seat. This guy was an amazing mind reader and had paid attention to every detail in her academic work and personal life. She actually felt a tingling in a spot that should not be experiencing that effect in a classroom.

The talk started. Joanne found it hard to focus. She was looking at Dennis's black hair, mixed in with a significant portion of grey, noticing how he pushed his glasses up his nose, how he paused before making a complicated, abstract argument. He was about 5'8" or 5'9", medium build. Even at his age, he did not stoop when he walk or stand.

And he had elbow patches on his jacket. He was so old school.

Debra was paying attention to the lecture, taking notes. Joanne was daydreaming.

Among various topics, Dennis talked about Feng Shui -- literally Wind and Water, in Chinese folklore, and how the natural elements had a life and spirit of their own. If man-made buildings or obstacles stood in the way of the natural flow of energy, the earth's equilibrium would be damaged. If there was an excess of one form of energy, the scale would be tipped. The physical habitat and the emotional well-being of the inhabitants would suffer. If some crucial elements were destroyed, the foundation of the scaffold would collapse.

If the disruption was minor, then the situation could quickly be remedied. If the damage perpetuated over decades, the harm could hardly be undone. Severe deforestation, building of artificial dams to redirect streams, overfishing, over-drilling ... the list went on and on. If an integral part of the eco-system was interrupted, the entire network collapsed.

"Does this have anything to do with Yin and Yang?" Debra wanted to prove stupid Chad wrong, so she raised her hand to ask Prof. Wu the question.

Dennis lowered his head, took a sip from his paper cup, and said, "That's a simplistic way of summarizing a lot of things. Yin and Yang refer largely to female and male energy, respectively. The moon and the sun. Water and fire. This dichotomy is not limited to the Chinese view of the world. Cultures and languages around the world make similar distinctions in the objects in the environment. Geomancy, in Greek, is similar to the concepts of Wind and Water in Chinese folk wisdom."

Joanne was mesmerized. She only understood half of what he said, but she was enthralled by the way he spoke and the way he thought. Where had he been for the past five years? If ever there was an academic lecture that was sexy, this was it.

Not only did he know his discipline, but he was also so well versed in ideas from all over the world.

Afterwards, they waited until the group of about 30 dispersed. Dennis came up to them and cocked his head to one side, as if asking "How was it?"

"Very interesting, Prof. Wu," Debra commented.

"Thank you."

"I have to get back to the lab, Joanne. I'll see you later," Debra turned and was about to leave.

"Oh, it is 11:30 already. I need to get back to the office too," Joanne said.

Dennis asked Joanne, "Which day do you have longer lunch hours? Maybe we can have lunch?"

"Let's see. What day is today? Tuesday? Tomorrow will work for me."

"OK, I will send you an email later to work out the details."

On the way back to the biology lab, Debra stole a few glances at her professor. She saw a more relaxed, happier and kinder Joanne, unlike the sex crazed monster last night.

**********

Wednesday lunch led to Thursday dinner. Dennis and Joanne decided to go to Applebee's. Not a romantic place for a date, but precisely because both of them wanted to make it low key.

When she left the office at 5:30, Chad looked at Debra and mumbled, "What the fuck is happening here?"

"What's wrong? She is the boss. She can leave anytime she wants."

"Is she dating someone?"

"I have no idea, and it's none of our business." Debra walked away.

**********

It was a pleasant evening. Joanne remembered more details that Dennis had told her over the years at faculty functions. He was originally from the Los Angeles area, teaching philosophy at one of the U. C. campuses. His wife passed away about ten years ago, when his children were just about finishing high school. He stayed on, got the kids settled in their college studies, then at 55, decided to take retirement. It was unheard of for most college tenured faculty. They could work until their 70s if they preferred, even if they needed a cane to walk around.

Dennis decided to take the pension, and find a new job far away from his home base. "I figured I have worked all my life to raise my family. Now that my wife was gone, I wanted a change of scenery. My friends said I was crazy to trade snow for sunshine. Some colleges in Washington state offered me positions. But I wanted a different time zone, new challenges. I was tired of Starbucks," he laughed.

"The Green Mountain coffee here is pretty good," she quipped.

"You are very right," Dennis looked at Joanne, marveled at the instant rapport the two had. He reached over the plate of linguine alfredo and patted the back of her hand.

She felt like a school girl on her first date.

"So what do you do in your spare time?" Dennis asked.

"Oh I barely have any spare time. I only have 18 months left on the grant and ...," she was interrupted.

"Ah, let's talk work when we get back to campus. Talk about something fun." His mellow voice made Joanne relax.

"Well, I have over 200 CDs, mostly classical music."

"Impressive. I know very little about classical. Are you familiar with the Sibelius violin concerto? It is a great example of fire and Ice."

"I have that one in my collection. But I've never seen that quality in it."

"When we have time, maybe we can listen to it together," Dennis said.

When dinner was over, Dennis asked Joanne if she played tennis.

"Oh, not since high school," she admitted in a shy way.

"How about we play tomorrow afternoon?" he suggested.

"Friday afternoon? I have to work."

"Really? Most faculty take Fridays off."

"So, you play every week?" she asked, wanting to find out if she was a fill-in girlfriend this week.

"No, Jeff -- do you know Jeff Greenberg in sociology? He and I play every other week. Too demanding on our old bodies to make it a weekly thing," he smiled. "Recently he hurt his ankle so I haven't played in a while. Let me call the Athletics Department tomorrow and see if we can find a last minute booking?"