Going Back to School

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All persons depicted in sexual acts are at least 18 years of age and consenting adults.

I was blessed with a lot of beta-reading and editing help with this one. I need to give lots of credit, appreciation, and thanks to Djmac1031, Todger65, Grumpyg, and Annabellebrito for how well this story turned out. Huzzah!

Brace yourself. This is a long one, folks. I hope you enjoy. Feel free to drop a comment at the end.

I pulled my jeep into the nearest parking spot and killed the engine. I sat there for a minute, looking over the familiar scenery around me. The old buildings looked much the same as they did the last time I had been here, some thirty years ago.

Like so many others had done before me, I enrolled in college here at home right out of high school. I was aiming for a degree in history and wanted to teach. My parents struggled with their day-to-day bills, and still had my younger sister to care for, so I was on my own when it came to paying for my education. I took a job working overnights at a truck stop, emptying trash cans, cleaning toilets, and scrubbing shower stalls.

It was a tough time in my life. I had to put in a lot of overtime to pay my tuition. Even working those long hours, I struggled to meet my monthly obligations, much less feed and clothe myself. I wore the same ragged shoes to work and school, and it was a treat for me to have more than one meal every other day.

Suffice it to say, I was not doing well at the time. Very early on in the semester, I realized that I would not have the time to do any of the homework or reading needed to keep up. When the first grades posted, I was failing every class.

Right before my mid-term exams, I was approached by an Air Force recruiter on campus. He offered me money up front to enlist, and then another, even larger bonus once I finished basic training. I didn't even listen to the rest of his spiel. It was a paltry sum of money in the grand scheme of things, but at the time it felt like a small fortune. I was on a bus to San Antonio later that month for basic training.

My initial six-year obligation quickly morphed into a career of over thirty years. I took to military life quickly and excelled at most of it. I was trained as a Communications Specialist. I rose through the ranks at breakneck speed and spent many years of my stay in and around Washington D.C. Generals, senators, and cabinet members all requested my help. I spent most of my time translating documents and intercepted communications. I learned to read, write, and speak a number of languages, including Farsi, Arabic, Russian, and Mandarin. I dabbled in a little Swahili and Cantonese as well.

Shortly after I announced my military retirement, I was contacted by a former classmate from high school. Greg had recently become a dean at our hometown college, the same school I had dropped out of that first semester. Where I had gone one direction and left school, he had gone on to graduate, get a doctorate, and become a big shot school administrator. We had kept in touch off and on through the years, and he knew of my multilingual background.

The university was expanding the modern languages department, and he offered me a position teaching basic Russian and Mandarin. After a few phone calls and Zoom meetings, I agreed to take the job. I loaded up my belongings and headed back to my old stomping grounds down south.

I hadn't been back home in many, many years. After my mother died, my sister took over the house we grew up in. I didn't speak to her often. Her husband and I had a physical altercation at my father's funeral several years before that, and I did not want to open up any old wounds for either of us. I found an apartment and went in to meet with Greg a couple of weeks before school was to set to start.

So, I stepped out of my jeep and went to find Greg's office. It was on the top floor of the shiny new administration building on the other end of campus. His receptionist, a sweet older woman named Gloria, offered me a seat, and said Dr. Landers would be with me shortly. I was impressed by the modern interior design and artwork on the walls.

"Andrew, great to see you again," Greg said warmly, opening the large wooden door. "Come on in!"

We shook hands and I followed him in. I sat at the large glass desk across from him and glanced out the floor to ceiling windows looking out over the campus.

"How are you man?" he continued. "How long has it been since you've been back in town?"

"It has been quite a while," I nodded. "Ten, twelve years or so. Way too long."

"True, true," he said, buttoning his suit jacket and sitting down. "So, listen, we've hit a little snag that I wasn't expecting," his expression was suddenly stern. "We're going to have to delay you joining us on the faculty here."

"You're kidding me!" I half-shouted "I just moved in my apartment this past weekend."

"Hold on, hold on, let me explain, it isn't quite that bad." He said, trying to calm me down.

"I knew you had dropped out of school back in the day to enlist, but the issue is that you did not actually withdraw from those classes, you just left. Officially, you have a transcript full of 'Incompletes' for those classes. There is an old university policy still on the books that states that you cannot be hired with a transcript containing multiple incomplete grades from here."

Greg pushed a printed copy of my full transcript in front of me. I could see all my Air Force certifications and degrees up top, but sure enough, there, at the bottom, were four big red 'I's that jumped off the page.

"So, I'm screwed is what you're telling me." I felt very dejected.

"Well, no. Look I tried, I really did. But the regents were very clear; I can't hire you with those still there," he took a breath. "But they did say that if we could replace those incompletes with actual grades, then we could move forward with no issues."

Greg's face looked hopeful. I thought for a moment. "So, what, I take a couple of online classes and we're good?" This didn't sound so bad after all.

"Not really. Incomplete courses are not online eligible to be re-taken online if they were not originally taken online," he said, sounding like he had memorized that part of the policy ahead of time.

"Wait, that's not my fault, there was no online learning back then." I argued.

"That is true, but the policy still applies. You will need to do these classes in person."

"So, I have to take a bunch of freshman courses to clean this up?"

"Yes." he replied, bracing himself. "Look, Andrew, I know this is not ideal, but it would be just the one semester. I can freeze your contract, so your job remains guaranteed. We would just start in the spring instead."

I was quiet for a moment or two. I guess Greg sensed doubt, so he continued selling me on the idea.

"We can get you on a scholarship program for military veterans we have on campus that will cover the tuition. We can even get you a job if you need one, doing nearly anything else on campus you are interested in. I know for a fact we always need athletic department tutors."

He paused and pointed at the transcript. "Your grades don't have to be straight A's. Hell, they don't need to even be passing for that matter. There is plenty enough on that transcript and your military resume to justify hiring you regardless of what grades those you end up getting. I just need actual grades for those classes entered by the professors at the end of the semester."

I sat there and took it all in. It didn't seem all that bad once I let everything sink in.

"What do you say Andrew?" Greg reached out his hand.

"Sure, why not. What else have I got to do for the next four months?" I shook his hand.

Greg picked up the phone and had Gloria set me up with one of the admissions staffers right away. After several hours and several dozen signatures, I was officially a college student again. As I retreated to my jeep, I thought to myself that this was definitely not how I had expected my day to go.

The following weeks were filled with orientation seminars and academic advisory meetings. Once the counselling was done, and I was sufficiently warned on the evils of sexual harassment and drinking and driving on campus, the first day of school finally arrived.

Monday morning, I walked into the science lecture hall for Biology 101. As I did, a couple of smug-faced frat boys handed me a flyer for a party that night. I gave it a glance, then set it down on the fold out desk in front of me as I took a seat near the aisle. A couple of students, one of which looked a lot like I did thirty years ago, approached me cautiously.

"Hey, are you going to be there?" he said, gesturing at the party flyer.

I shrugged and told him "I'm not sure."

"You're like, ex-military, right? My dad has that same haircut. He was in the Navy for a while." The kid talked at a nervous, rapid-fire pace. "Listen, I'm pledging that fraternity, and I'm supposed to bring some beer & booze. Do you think you could help me out and get some? I'm not twenty-one yet. I'll pay you for whatever you get plus like ten percent." He spoke very rushed and robotic, like he had been rehearsing this speech all morning.

"Why don't the frat guys get their own alcohol?" I said without thinking.

"It's like a challenge for the pledges. Please? Twenty-five percent?" He was negotiating his way up without me saying a word.

I looked at him for a second. The more I did, the more he reminded me of myself two and a half decades earlier. He certainly wouldn't pass for eighteen, much less old enough to buy beer. He had dirty glasses and a messy mop of brown hair. He stood a little shorter than average like me and was a little pudgy around the middle. I felt a twinge of pity.

"Sure kid." I heard myself say.

"Really? Wow! That's awesome!" His voice got uncomfortably high and loud.

"Calm down and take a seat. We'll talk after class." I shooed him away with a wave. As the professor went on about books and labs and the syllabus, I had second thoughts. I would be a faculty member soon enough. I should not be risking that to commit a misdemeanor for some kid I didn't even know.

But after class, there he was, cell phone out and Cash App info at the ready. I asked him what they wanted to bring, then arranged to meet them at the frat house later that night with two cases of cheap beer and four bottles of rum.

Sure enough, there he was, waiting for me outside the frat house when I arrived later that night. I gave him the receipt and he grabbed his phone. I instantly had the total plus twenty-five percent in my account. I pulled the loot out of my jeep and helped the kid carry it all inside.

The moment I stepped over the threshold, the smell of stale booze and smoke hit me hard. It was so bad my eyes started to water and sting. It had been quite some time since I had been inside a place like this. The kid took the bottles from me and vanished.

I stood there alone, scouting out my surroundings. The music was loud, and there were people all about. Some were standing, some talking, a few dancing, and nearly everyone was holding a drink of some sort. I shook my head and reminisced a little from my partying days in the military.

I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Three guys with Greek letters on their shirts and smug smirks on their faces walked up to me, dragging the kid along behind them.

"So, I hear you did D-Bag Brian here a favor," one of them snarled at me.

"I did." I said, instantly sizing the guy up. He looked like the jerks that tormented me in high school. I didn't like him immediately. I positioned myself against a wall out of instinct.

"You his dad or something?" another one of them piped up.

"Nope. Never met him before today." I felt challenged. I took a half step back, ready to react if necessary.

"Then why did you do it, man?" The first guy sounded annoyed that I had gotten involved.

"He asked nicely."

One of them laughed derisively. "Well, Mr. Nice Guy, we'll have to give you a reward for your assistance."

They nodded to Brian, and he beckoned for me to come with him. I didn't think he was capable of doing anything to hurt me, so I followed. I was led up the stairs and into an empty bedroom.

The room was a disaster area, with a messy dresser and unmade double bed on opposite walls of the tiny room. There were random things strewn across the floor; books, plastic cups, to-go boxes, and a wadded-up pair of basketball shorts.

"Wait here man." Brian said, then left abruptly.

I stood there a little bewildered for a couple of minutes. I don't know what those guys had planned for me. I certainly didn't trust them at all. I wasn't afraid of them by any stretch, but my years of being bullied and picked on by entitled jerks growing up left me very leery.

I had just about decided to leave, when the door opened, and a short, pretty, blonde-haired girl eased her way inside. She closed and locked the door behind her.

"Hello" I said to the top of her head, as she didn't seem willing to make eye contact right away.

"Umm... Hi," she said, peering up at me nervously.

She wasn't much taller than five foot and looked to be about as young as the Brian kid was. She was cute though. She had on a tight yellow blouse and some short shorts that didn't seem to fit her tiny ass quite right.

"How are you doing tonight?" I asked, trying not to stare at the nice sized tits under that top. She had left a couple of buttons undone, displaying a fair amount of cleavage.

"Okay, I guess." She finally looked me in the eye. I tried to smile at her reassuringly.

"So, what's going on?" I asked after several silent seconds. Her head popped up and her eyes locked onto mine this time.

"Umm, they didn't tell you?" she asked, sounding surprised. Her soft blue eyes were open wide with amazement.

"No one has told me anything. I just helped some kid out with booze and was sent in here."

"Oh," she cleared her throat. "Umm, Well. I'm supposed to thank you, you know, Properly." She was clearly very nervous. I was starting to get an idea about what she was doing.

"No sweat. You are welcome. I was young once too."

"Thanks, but I have to..." her voice trailed off. I was more and more certain why she was sent in.

"You don't have to do anything at all. It was my pleasure."

"No, I have... I... I need to... suck your dick." Those dirty words out of her innocent looking mouth didn't seem to fit.

"You don't have to do that. It wasn't part of the deal." I certainly didn't want to be the villain in some young girl's story.

"No, you don't understand, I Have to."

"Look. I don't want you to do anything you might regret later. I'll tell them you did it, and that it was great, and then you'll be off the hook."

She sighed and looked up shyly at me again. "No, you don't understand, I have to have... proof."

"I can just tell them..." I stopped mid-sentence, and she fished her cell phone and a shot glass out of her back pocket and held them up. The realization of what she might need caught me off guard.

"We can figure something out, so you don't have to..."

She took another deep breath and cut me off. "Thanks, but, it will be easier if I just do it. Besides, after this is over, I'll get immunity from the next thing."

And with that she took three steps forward and dropped to her knees in front of me. Her little hands busied themselves with my belt and pants. She fumbled her way through undoing them, then unceremoniously pulled them to the floor. I was still in a bit of shock, so there was no impressive erection to report, as my dick hung free in my boxers right in front of her face.

She then undid her blouse and shimmied it off her shoulders. I watched as her hands went between her jiggling tits and unclasped the front closure of her sheer white bra. She pulled the garment away and two perfect, pale, pink, pointy nipples greeted me.

While I was staring at her nice boobs, the girl reached down and pulled my boxers to the floor. She grabbed her phone and took pictures of my cock, then posed with it as it began to swell rapidly. She took a photo of her tongue licking the head, and then one with the length of it across her mouth. Seemingly satisfied, and now with my cock standing at attention, she kissed the tip and dove right in.

I groaned as my eyes rolled back and closed. She wasn't a master of technique by any stretch, but even an okay blow job is still pretty damn good. She slurped and sucked the head, pumping the shaft slowly in her little hand. She took an impressive amount of it deep in her mouth before she pulled off it and stroked me a few more times.

I moaned involuntarily, and she stopped to hand me her phone before taking my cock back in her warm, wet mouth. I took a handful of pictures as I assumed she wanted, making sure to get her eyes looking up at me in each shot. Then I dropped her phone on the bed beside me.

I enjoyed the sensations for a while longer, as she kept sucking, stroking, and licking my throbbing dick in a variety of patterns and speeds. Her tits swayed tantalizingly, and I wanted badly to play with them. I moaned again.

Her pace quickened, and she found that sweet spot, the right amount of pressure, pace, and saliva for lubricant, that sent me right up to the edge of orgasm.

"I'm... I'm about to..." I whispered. I felt her grip my butt tightly, holding me in place.

She held her wet lips firmly around my cock head and stroked the shaft furiously. Burst after burst of cum went in her mouth. She swallowed some instinctively, and a little more dribbled down her chin, but she held most of it there in her mouth. As I sat back and my dick popped out from between her lips, she grabbed the shot glass and let my cum drip from between her lips into the shot glass. She then swiped the blob of my jizz off her chin and licked it off her finger, then slurped the drizzles oozing from my cock, only to spit them in the shot glass too.

Seemingly satisfied with her work, she stood up to put her clothes back on. I watched her tits unabashedly as she did. They were very nice. I was sad to see them covered up again.

"Thank you from all of us at Gamma Delta and Phi Chi Ro," she said quietly and robotically.

"Yeah, no problem." I stammered, still coming down from the high of an orgasm.

"And thanks for trying to be nice." She smiled sweetly at me as I buckled my pants back up. She took her phone and cum-filled shot glass and eased her way out the door.

After recovering and getting my sea legs back under me, I left the house and wandered outside towards my jeep. There was a sorority girl leaning against it as she threw up in the street. Once she was done, I drove away.

All in all, it was not the worst first day of school I could have had.

After three classes on Monday, I had just one class on Tuesday. It was an early one, eight o'clock in the morning, I got up very early and went to the campus dining hall before class for some coffee and to grab a bagel or something.

As I stepped into the line for the coffee shop, I realized I was in line directly behind my little seductress form the night before. She wore sunglasses and had her hair pulled back in a basic ponytail. She had on some tight yoga pants that made her ass look good, and university logoed hoodie that looked like it was a couple sizes too big. I stared at her cute little ass for a few minutes unnoticed.

Someone yelled out "Rachel" behind me and she turned to wave. Her face looked up at mine and instantly she blushed and looked away. I was sure I was blushing as well when she finally turned back to me to whisper.