How I Became Emperor Ch. 10: Summer

"Your request." I managed to say sweetly.

Instead of answering verbally, my Professor pawed weekly at my shoulders to get me to roll on top of her. She spread her legs wide, and used her hand to guide me without preamble into the warm embrace of her vulva.

We fucked. Fucked hard. It was animalistic, our previous game of attempting to one-up each other both sexually and in debate lost to forgotten history as we rutted and proceeded to make her bedsheets completely soaked.

I took my pleasure on Professor Lex only twice that day - missionary and cowgirl - neither ones my favourite positions, but I was definitely NOT going to complain! Still - an initial release for both of us (I managed to grab a tissue from her night-stand just in time to not spray my seed across her bedspread) was followed by a very long session of vigorous grinding and humping that had us rolling across the bed from corner to corner. My second release also ended up in a tissue, after which we just lay beside each other.

I ended up in a laughing fit - I still can't quite explain why beyond pointing at the absurdity of the situation. How often does a fetish for teacher/student sexual encounters form the basis of pornographic art of our age? It's prevalence is everywhere - and mine was at the same time so utterly cliche, and yet entirely unique in its dialectic nature, completely unconnected to the sexual except by an entirely artificial link of gamification.

I laughed until I had tears in my eyes, unable to explain it to my Professor, who eventually also became infected by my mirth. We laughed together, naked atop her decidedly wrinkled and sweat-marked bedspread until I finally got up and wandered into her bathroom to freshen up and admire my hickey in the mirror. My Professor stayed behind. When I quit the washroom she was already stripping her bed, still naked.

I helped - never let it be said that I'm only a gentleman before sex, and while she disappeared to place the linens in her washing machine, I gathered up my clothes and began to dress. My Professor returned, her magnificent breasts leading the way, and watched me do up the last buttons on my shirt.

"I think my extra hour is up." I said sheepishly. "I had better be going. Need to show off my hickey to my girlfriend over dinner!" Professor Lex nodded, and still clad in her birthday suit showed me to her door - careful to stay behind it out of sight of the road.

"Next week, same time. I want you to prepare to discuss the limitations and benefits of a Cartesian Logic in the political sphere." She told me as I left. "Oh! And don't wear the geeky underpants." I heard as the door clicked shut.

Having decided that we did need to go out into society me and Cindy had arranged to double-date with Irina and Alex that evening, my two flat-mates having also recently returned from their respective travels home. I met the three of them outside the semi-expensive restaurant me and Alex had both decided our dates would enjoy.

After being seated, spending a good five minutes while the ladies debated every option on the menu based on its merits as palatable food while Alex and I exchanged exaggerated eye rolls to show our mock-displeasure (when they noticed, this of course just urged the girls on - making them ask an inordinate amount of questions about the menu of the poor waiter), and finally ordering some food, we got down to conversation. Everyone told stories about their holidays - Irina related about some Scandinavian Cruise she'd been on which elicited the opportunity to share photos and some extensive questioning from all of us.

When the conversation did finally split temporarily to be just between the couples, I turned as much as I could towards Cindy and tried to surreptitiously undo a button on my shirt and pull the resultant hole wide enough and over to the right so she could see the hickey. Alas, it was the side closer to my friends across the table, and I must have been too subtle for Cindy as she was not the first to notice it. Instead Irina suddenly leaned across the table to swat my hand. "What are you doing?!" She demanded slightly incredulously. "We're in a public restaurant and you don't need to show Cindy her own handiwork!"

I must have blushed a vivid shade of red.

"What handiwork?" Cindy asked, confused. As I fumbled to close the button again, Cindy firmly pulled it out of my grip and leaned in closer to look. A frown slowly crept onto her face. "I don't remember..." she muttered.

"What?" Alex joined in making it unclear at whom the question was directed.

I finally managed to close the button again, finally pulling Cindy's frowning gaze back up to meet mine. "But if I didn't... who...." Finally putting one and one together, Cindy's eyes went wide and an unbridled glee worked its way into her grin. "Wait." She whispered, putting her hand over the hickey. "Really?!"

I nodded, still an embarrassed shade of red while my two friends watched on trying to figure it out. "What?" Alex repeated, an increasingly whiny tone in his voice at being the only one at the table without information. His girlfriend took some pity on him.

"He's got a hickey..." Irina let Alex know, "and he was trying to show it to Cindy."

"...So?" Alex asked, still a little nonplussed. "I mean, no offence man," he turned to address me, "not exactly the best timing, but, I'm not exactly sure I see what all the fuss is about?"

Irina narrowed her eyes, and I exchanged a look with Cindy. She had the grace to shrug apologetically, if not completely sincerely seeming to say: 'the cat is out of the bag - you might as well let them know.'

I sighed heavily. "Yes," I admitted, "I do have a hickey, and I was trying to show Cindy."

After a brief pregnant pause, Cindy leaned across the table to finally enlighten our friends: "I didn't give it to him." Then she returned to her meal as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. I couldn't help it. I laughed out loud.

We did have quite a lot of conversation over the rest of dinner, clueing in my flat mates that my relationship with Cindy was not - and had virtually never been - exclusive. We gave no names, although I'm pretty sure that Irina almost immediately could identify a couple of my sexual partners of the past months. I'm glad that my friends were classy enough not to rudely inquire for particulars, but that we only discussed my fortunate position in broad strokes.

I also managed to cause Cindy some weakness once the main course had been cleared, and I could sneak a hand under the table. She did give me an evil eye while Irina and Alex were busy ordering dessert, but followed it up with a pacifying wink, so I assumed my continued ministrations were not unwelcome. In my defence, the skirt that Cindy was wearing practically was inviting my fingers to play.

Desserts placed in front of us, Alex returned us to the topic of my 'philandering', as he kept calling it despite both Cindy and Irina trying to take him off that strain of thought. "I don't know, man. I mean, yeah, the intelligent, sexy, mysterious Student President, I see that, but that women are throwing themselves at you like that? I don't see that."

"That's kind of the point," I clarified. "You weren't supposed to see it. Still, it was only a matter of time before you and Irina found out."

Irina fixed me with a piercing gaze. "And how were you planning on telling us?"

"Honestly? I wasn't really. I just kind of hoped you'd be ok with it." I took another bite out of my tiramisu to punctuate the statement.

Irina harrumphed, and Alex gave me a worried look. Cindy was trying to keep a straight face while my fingers continued to torture her - I wasn't sure how much of this conversation she was actually following.

"Look," I tried to explain to my friends. "I hope that we are close enough as friends for you not to see me any differently because of this. I also believe that we are close enough as room-mates for this to not be a problem regardless of our relationships with each other."

Irina and Alex looked at one another. "I don't know, man." Alex repeated. "It is a little bit of a bombshell to lay on me - on us. I mean, this does change some things. I'm not sure I can see you the same way anymore... For example, are you going to be bringing home different girls regularly?"

"What? No!" I exclaimed, shocked. Then immediately recanted: "Occasionally, maybe, if Cindy gives her permission and the chemistry really works I guess." I realised I was backtracking on my initial vehement denial so I tried to refocus my response: "Usually it'll be a girl that I already have some kind of interaction with, not some random stranger."

This time Irina, the more perceptive of the two who had guessed at least some of my sexual partners, jumped in. "Ok, so the same girls but repeatedly, but will you be looking for a relationship with them all?"

I didn't hesitate a moment before replying, "I only want to keep a girlfriend/boyfriend relationship with Cindy. Any other women I have slept with or will sleep with I care for, and have love for on some level, but it would not be romantic love."

Alex had sprouted worry-lines on his forehead that deepened as I continued. "Wait. You were friends with all of them before you slept with the other girls?"

"I wouldn't say 'friends', but definitely acquaintances of some sort." I hedged my bets given that neither Professor Lex, nor Abby were friends before we'd tumbled into bed.

"So... people like Irina?!" Alex asked his real worry revealing himself.

"No!" I defended Irina before she could punch her boyfriend. "Irina and I have never, nor have I ever approached her like that. I wouldn't do that to you, man!" I admit, I was a little angry at the accusation. "She is a beautiful woman, very intelligent and sexy, but she's also first and foremost your girlfriend. I would never - could never do that unless specific circumstances occurred."

Irina narrowed her eyes. "What circumstances?" She asked, and I couldn't figure out if it was intrigue or anger that powered her question. Thankfully, Cindy had managed to coat my fingers with a wonderful film of fluids - all the while maintaining a (mostly) cool composure and feigning interest in the conversation - and rejoined to explain to Irina and Alex.

While my lady love managed to sneak her napkin off the table for me to wipe my fingers on, she said: "Permission, knowledge and willingness: the trifecta of extramarital polygamy. For him to end up in bed with you, Irina, he'd need to know that Alex and I permitted it, that Alex and I approved and knew of the tryst, and that you and he both wanted to have that experience. Without any one of these aspects, he would immediately back off and refuse to engage or interact with you in that way."

I stared at CIndy a little stunned at how scholarly she had presented that. "What?" She asked, sounding irritated. "I read."

"Where did you read that? Polygamist monthly?" Alex asked.

"No. In a book with suggestions."

We all sat silently, looking at our empty dessert plates. When the waiter came by to ask us if we wanted any coffee I looked around the table before declining the offer and asking for the bill.

"I guess," Alex said once the waiter had left, "that makes sense. I mean, if there's permission from the significant other, and they know about it before it happens, and the people want to, I think that's not cheating anymore?" His voice rose at the end, and by his sidelong glance at his girlfriend it was clear he was asking for her opinion.

Irina shrugged her shoulder in response, uncharacteristically shy. "I guess. I can't really make an argument against it."

The waiter returned then, and I stretched out my credit card. A faux argument ensued returning us back to a normal state of affairs as both Irina and Alex attempted to pay a share, and then to foist money upon me when I managed to convince the waiter very easily that a single payment would be simpler than attempting to split the bill. I refused my friend's money, eventually playfully resorting to the argument of "Listen to your President!".

As we walked home through the early evening Alex slowed his pace and gently tugged on my arm as well to indicate we should walk a little bit behind our girlfriends.

"Man..." he tried to start. "I mean.... man..."

Taking pity on my friend I decided to take the initiative. "Look, Alex. You're one of my best friends, perhaps the best friend, and I really do believe you and I will still be friends when we're eighty, ninety, even a hundred years old. I will never do anything to jeopardize that."

"I know, man. I know." Alex spent some time watching the women ahead of us converse, their heads close together, their words indistinct. "But... you know, I really think I'm going to marry Irina someday. I love her. And I... I've never thought about someone else having sex with her, let alone you."

I stopped and turned Alex to face me. "Stop it." I demanded. "Don't think about me and Irina having sex. Don't think about anyone else having sex with her. This lifestyle isn't for everyone and that's ok. So long as you don't judge me for living this lifestyle, and you continue to trust me, everything is ok."

Alex was shaking his head. "No, that's not it, man. I mean, yeah, I do trust you. And I guess if I wanted her to sleep with anyone else it would be you. It's just that... I'd never thought about it before, but when the idea of the two of you did occur to me, I suddenly got... I suddenly had a.... I...."

I was nonplussed, and unsure what Alex was trying to say, otherwise I'd have tried to help him again. I just looked at him questioningly.

"Oh, damn it. I got hard. Ok? Thinking about you and her I got really really stiff."

The admission took me aback, so for a moment I was stunned. It was the wrong reaction, and made Alex grumpy. "Oh forget it." He began to stomp off after our ladies. I ran to catch up and slow him down again.

"Alex,..." It was my turn to look for the correct words. "Look, man. You've got to figure out what it was that turned you on. Maybe it was just the subject. Any red-blooded man would get at least semi-hard based on what we were talking about. I was at half-mast and I'd been thoroughly fucked earlier today."

Again Alex was shaking his head. "No, man. I wasn't just a little aroused. I was fully there, completely hard, man. I mean, it was harder than I've ever been, stiff enough to make me scared. Go see a doctor kind of scared." The worry lines on his brow as the thought was occurring to him made more sense now.

"Ok, well... you still need to figure out what specifically turned you on. Was it the hickey or Cindy's reaction?"

"No." Alex responded, sounding a little morose.

"Uh... the image of me and some other girl?"

"No."

"You and Irina?"

"Uh-uh."

"Me and Irina?"

Alex groaned as though he'd been told the end of the world was only two hours away. He glared at me. "Fuck you and your fucking analysis." I guessed I'd hit the mark. "And you just managed to get me raring to go again..."

I was about to tell him 'TMI' but held back. This wasn't the time to pull back on our friendship. "You've got to talk to Irina about it." Was all I could think to suggest.

Alex groaned again, but nodded recognising the necessity. "Not a conversation to look forward to." He moaned.

"I don't know." I grinned, "You never know how the conversation will end up."

"I did kind of let her know." Alex confessed. "When it happened - back at the restaurant - I guided her hand under the table."

I laughed, getting a surprised glance from Alex. "Man, my hand was up Cindy's skirt. I'm pretty sure I still have some remnants on my fingers." I raised a hand and sniffed the fingers, before tasting them. I shrugged, "Damn those restaurant napkins and their ability to clean."

I was proud that Alex laughed at that.

We arrived at our flat just then, the girls patiently waited for us, their own conversation concluded, at least for now. We did not spend more time than it said to say polite good-nights before we disappeared into our respective rooms.

Me and Cindy slowly stripped, and climbed into bed.

"I think they took that well enough." I whispered to Cindy.

"Yeah." She whispered back. "Irina was asking more questions about how I feel and how I deal with the situation as we walked back."

She began to idly stroke the hickey Professor Lex had given me.

"Yeah, Alex told me he got turned on by the topic as well." I didn't even think about trusting Cindy with this. She smiled slightly.

"Irina told me." She winked. "Now shut up - I'm trying to hear something." She admonished me.

We both listened intently, our breathing the only sound for the moment. Less than 5 minutes later a muffled yelp and scream could be heard from Alex and Irina's room. Me and Cindy smiled at each other, then snuggled up together and prepared to drift off to sleep.

What also happened in the week before proper classes resumed was my official investiture as president. There wasn't a large ceremony or anything. It pretty much amounted to the outgoing president sitting down with me in his/my office for an hour to give me a rundown on things I needed to keep an eye on. Then he packed up his rucksack, and we walked across campus to the administration building where he officially introduced me to the Chancellor, the Dean and their respective secretaries with whom I would need to interact.

The Dean was relatively indifferent to me. I got the impression that the old man had seen a good half century of changing faces representing the students and really didn't think about them too much, unless they made trouble for him. That was pretty much the first words out of his mouth as well, after having finished introductions: "I'll need your input on any disciplinary measures and maybe a couple of times for some major events or changes. Donna [his secretary] will let you know when so that you can respond adequately. Any requests you have for my attention, please feel free to leave them with Donna, and she or I will respond to them when we can."

It was dismissive, but not unfriendly. I sympathized with the old man huddled behind the stacks of books and paper on his desk bearing witness to the mountain of work he was trying to keep at bay.

Donna was nicer, and gave me a smile as she asked me more politely to keep the number of my requests to a minimum if possible. It wasn't for her sake, her desk was tidy, and while she obviously had enough to do, she was very obviously also the gatekeeper to her boss and wanted to ward off whatever burdens she could before they made an appearance.

The chancellor was an entirely different beast. In her late forties, but obviously a bombshell of a woman in her younger days, she was a picture of clean efficiency and strict adherence to rules. Her black hair was trussed up tightly in a workmanish fashion, her desk empty of all but her laptop, and the office decorated in an austere modernist style

We sat for a while as she laid out a plan to meet me regularly to ensure we "closed the loop" and so that she could keep apprised of student interests. She indicated that since she had a certain amount of control over my budget she would expect to see meticulous expense reports with the appropriate receipts in original and digital formats. After impressing the importance of the processes she helped me apply for a credit card connected to the appropriate account held by the university administration. She explained I would have a firm weekly limit, and any expense on the card would need to be fully explained, no exceptions. And if she ever found out that I had used the card for things outside of the university's operating principles she wouldn't hesitate a second to remove me from power unilaterally.