Nudism and Academic Politics 01

Susana was very happy to learn about the temporary job offer and the possibility of her interviewing for a position at the nearby junior college. In fact, she was feeling a little uncomfortable staying with Frank's parents for so long during his job search.

Frank's parents were extremely busy during the day; Susana was more or less relegated to shopping and helping with the evening meal (called "supper" in the region)--something for which Joyce was very grateful.

Frank reported that he had tentatively accepted the offer, dependent on his submitting the required documents and undergoing an interview by the search committee. Jeffrey, the committee chair, had been very upbeat. He had also encouraged Susana to apply for a position at the nearby junior college that would also require documentation and a formal job interview. Frank mentioned that Jeffrey's wife had a few connections at the junior college that might prove helpful.

Frank and Susana spent a large portion of the evening talking about the job offer and the junior college opportunity. They both felt that, finally, the winds of good fortune were blowing their way.

Fred and Joyce were also pleased to learn about their son's job possibility although they had grown used to having the children around.

Susana, after a brief adjustment period, had accepted the southern habit of having friends and relatives just "drop by" during the early afternoon, unannounced, to "visit" and stay longer than they should; she had in addition learned to tolerate the very deliberate pace of how slowly people drove and how shopkeepers tended to chat as they checked customers out of the store. Joyce had to remind her to fix sweet "ice tea" for the evening meals, a distinct southern custom.

Frank, at his father's insistence, had been helping out at one of the family warehouses in the shipping department where, as a teenager, he had worked in the late afternoons after school and football practice. At the time, it was his father's fervent wish that he follow in the paternal footsteps and one day take over the Kestler's business empire. Fred Kestler was convinced his son needed a "back-up" profession in case his infatuation with the humanities didn't work out.

Joyce Kestler, however, suggested that her husband prepare for the occasion when their son would pursue his first passion and seek a career in academia.

There were two wonderful and very capable local employees who could take over managing the warehouses and family stores with very little adjustment. Fred agreed but insisted that family members deserved to manage the business, not outsiders.

One very warm day...it was very hot in southern Georgia during the summer...Frank came home late in the afternoon and headed for the shower before suppertime. He was surprised, as he entered the bedroom, to find Susana stretched out in the bathtub with a glass of red wine and listening to the radio. "I just needed to get away from things for a while," she explained. "It's so hot, everywhere."

"Sorry, but this is the South and southern Georgia is always hot this time of year," he stated as she took off his sweat-soaked clothes and stepped into the shower.

"We've got A. C. My father grew up with very little A. C. for most of his youth," Frank said as he cracked the shower door. Susana had stood up in the tub and water was running off her body as she took a sip of wine, before resettling herself. Her breasts floated slightly in the bath water; Frank noted that her nipples were erect and her face had turned pink from the heat of the bathroom. He was overwhelmed by the moment and the sensuous beauty of his partner.

As he turned off the shower, he began to towel himself down; Susana had leaned back in the tub and looked at his body in a possessive way. "So, you were an athlete in high school. That shows in all those muscles you've got."

"I used to be in good shape," Frank corrected. "I need to start working out again. You don't want a flabby man lying next to you."

"I wouldn't mind what shape you're in, Frank Kestler. Just having you close to me is a turn on." She paused for a moment and said, "Hey, southern boy, come over here and sit with me in the tub. That will cool you off a little."

Frank glanced at the clock above the bath tub. "It's about five-twenty. Supper is served at 6:15 normally, sometimes a little later," he said.

"You'll have to time yourself, handsome," Susana chuckled and motioned for him to come closer.

As he raised his leg to climb into the tub, she reached up and fondled his penis that was half-erect. "Are you taking something, my love, or is it just the heat? I can barely get my hand around your cock."

"When we first made love at Cap d'Agde, I thought my cock was going to break open! You were too distracted to notice."

"I noticed but I didn't have a tape measure then."

Frank sat down in the water and cupped her breasts. "Every time I see you like this, I can't control myself. Some nights I'm bigger than others."

Susana let go of his penis that was almost erect, and giggled. "Stay there, don't move." She lifted herself from the tub, dripping water on Frank and the floor, and pulled a tape measure out of her sewing kit that was sitting on a nearby shelf.

"What's going on?" He queried, turning around to look at her.

She began to laugh as she reached into the tub and seized his erection, stroking it rapidly. "Let's see if you've really grown or not."

Frank stood partially up and sat on the edge of the tub. "Hey, this is serious business. Make sure you get me at maximum length!"

Susana fondled him for another minute or so and then stretched out the tape. "Um, not bad at all. I've got around 7 5/8 inches in length and just under 6 inches in girth. You're a southern stud, Frank Kestler."

"Let's not let this tumescence go to waste," he ordered. "Bring up your sturdiest chair, fair lady."

"Well, my tumescent lord, step out of your baignoire (bathtub) and perch upon this small throne." Susana tweaked his penis as he rose from the bathtub and sat upon the chair. She opened her thighs and sat astride Frank's lap and held his erection in place for penetration.

"Ta bite est d'une taille impressionnante, mon liège. Fais-moi le plaisir de m'embrocher avec ardeur et passion. J'ai envie que tu me prennes séance tenante jusqu'à ce que je hurle de plaisir, chère âme. Mon corps s'ouvre à ta voix..." (Your cock is impressively large, my lord. Do me the pleasure of impaling me with great passion. I want you to possess me now until I am screaming with pleasure, beloved. My body is yours for the taking.)

As Susana let herself down upon his erection, Frank commented: "That's quite a speech. I wish you had thought that up in Strasbourg."

"It's more appropriate now, even in French. Give it to me, Johnny Reb. Let me have it, you Georgia stallion."

After almost seven minutes of wild up and down gyrations, they both cried out in unison, saying whatever came to mind.

"God, Frank," Susana looked at the clock. "I've got to go down and help out with the meal."

"Man, that was incredible. I vote for the tub scene again."

Susana scrambled around and dressed in record time. Just as she was approaching the door, Joyce knocked. "Susana, could you come down and help me with supper?" "I'm coming, Joyce. Sorry, I was just taking a bath."

In the kitchen, the supper was already prepared except for setting the table and a few minor details. Frank's sisters were hovering about, fiddling with silverware and glasses and chatting between themselves.

"My, my, you do look like you were bathing in hot water," Catherine commented with a knowing smile.

"I normally take a cold shower to calm me down," Georgeana, Frank's older sister, said looking at Susana and fanning herself with a napkin . Both sisters were involved with local bachelors but still lived at home. From what Frank knew about their love lives, they were no prudes.

It promised to be a long night of innuendos, Susana said to herself. The family was going to give us lots of advice on the job offers. She would be grilled on their future plans and marriage prospects. Thank God Frank was there to help her survive these evenings.

The weeks went by with a methodical certainty; finally Frank's letter of recommendation arrived from Professor Grégoire in France. Frank had to provide a certified translation of the text. Susana's letter of application and dossier attachment had been acknowledged, but so far she had not received an invitation for her official interview.

Friend Jeffrey's wife, at Frank's behest, had made a few phone calls at the junior college and learned that, indeed, they were searching for a professor of French and German who could handle the introductory level courses for the fall semester.

One evening, after supper, Susana got a phone call from a woman whose name she didn't recognize. It was from the dean of the junior college where Susana had applied.

"Hello, is this Susana Carlson? My name is Catherine Wildridge. I'm the dean of academic affairs at Randolph Junior College where you've applied for a position in our language program. Do you have a few minutes?"

Susana glanced at Frank and whispered, "This if the dean at Randolph Junior College." Frank gave her a thumbs up gesture and motioned for the others not to make noise.

Dean Wildridge said that her portfolio was indeed very interesting; the only drawback they could see would be the lack of classroom teaching experience. However, as an undergraduate, she had served as a language tutor at Wellesley and had taken several pedagogical courses along the way. In her favor was the invaluable experience she had gotten from her stay abroad and her research interests in German and French culture. Being a Fulbright scholar was also a feather in her cap.

"By the way," Dean Wildridge asked, "or you by any chance related to Dorothy O'Neill Carlson?" Susana hesitated and answered: "Yes, she's my mother." "Oh really! Did she by any means attend Harvard in the 1990s?"

"Yes, she did. But family problems arose and she wasn't able to graduate with her class. She transferred and graduated from Boston College a few years later." There was a moment of silence on the line.

"This is indeed quite a coincidence, Susana. Your mother and I were best friends at Harvard. We kept up with each other for a while. I've often wondered what happened to her. Is she doing well?"

Susana did everything to keep her composure. "Yes, she is living at Wellesley with my father, William Carlson. If I may, was your maiden name Catherine Kirsten?"

"As a matter of fact, it was. How did you know this?"

"Mother often mentioned you when she talked about her Harvard years. I think you were members of a scholarly club of some sort."

" Yes, we were. Your mother was and is an extremely intelligent woman. I see that you take after her in that regard, in going through your academic records."

"Thank you. That's very flattering."

"Look, Susana, I'm taking up too much of your time. If you are available, would it be possible for you to drop by my office on Wednesday morning at 9:30 next week. I would love to talk with you more at length about the position and have you meet some members of the language department."

"Yes. I'm free at that time. That would be perfect."

"Great. I'll send you an e-mail with instructions about how to get to campus and my office location. I'll look forward to meeting you on Wednesday a week from now. By the way, I've guesstimated that the trip would take you about five hours by car. Would that be a serious problem? If so, we could arrange a more convenient date for the interview."

"No, not really. It's right down I-95 and we can easily get there within five hours or possibly less."

"Very good. However, if anything comes up, please let me know at the number in the e-mail attachment."

Susana, after hanging up, went up to Frank and hugged him enthusiastically.

"Wow! Let me breathe a little. Who was that?" Susana went over the phone conversation in great detail. Frank took her hands and almost shouted, "You did it. You got your foot in the door." Everyone gathered around and congratulated her. Susana had to remind the family that this would only be an interview, not an official job offer but she knew this was her moment, her golden opportunity.

Susana, almost beyond herself, gave her mother a call and told her about the telephone call. "Oh, sweetheart. Catherine is one of my dearest friends from Harvard. I can't believe she's the dean of the junior college where you applied. She was so bright and vivacious. Please give her my best."

Susana borrowed a very professional outfit from Joyce (they were approximately the same size) and she and Frank left late on Tuesday morning to drive to the junior college. Luckily, the weather was perfect and the intense Florida heat had not yet set in. Automobile traffic, normally murderous on I-95, was manageable all the way.

On Wednesday morning, after spending the night in a local motel, Frank drove Susana to the dean's office, negotiating a sinuous roadway that led to the junior college. He would wait for her, strolling around campus and seeing how things were.

The interview went much better than Susana had anticipated. Catherine Wildridge was a very sophisticated woman who breathed Ivy League out of every pore. After talking about Susana's academic background and future plans with the junior college, she began to reminisce about her mother and their friendship at Harvard. "My goodness, Susana, you are the spitting image of your mother. I feel like the last 32 years haven't gone by and I'm talking to Dorothy, your mother." There was an almost maternal look in her eyes.

Dean Wildridge suddenly caught herself, stood up, and led Susana down the hall to meet four members of the language department. "I'll leave you together," she instructed the faculty members. "Grace, when you're finished, I would like to see you in the office." She smiled at Susana and squeezed her hand affectionately. Grace nodded and greeted Susana, introducing her to the other professors in the group.

"Eh bien, Susana, nous sommes enchantés de faire votre connaissance. J'espère que la doyenne Wildridge vous a tenue au courant de notre établissement scolaire nouveau et de ce qu'on attendrait de vous en tant que professeur de langues." (Well, Susana, we are delighted to meet you. I hope Dean Wildridge has brought you up to date on our very young school and what we would expect of you as a language professor).

Grace's French was very fluent and Susana knew that the quality of the faculty would be far above average for junior colleges in the region. After some ten minutes of chatting in French, another professor, Wilhelm Meinhertz, took over and introduced himself in German; "Guten Morgen, Frau Carlson, Wilkommen in unserem 'Junior College."

Wie Sie wissen, suchen wir jemand der sowohl Französisch als auch Deutsch sprechen kann." (Good morning, Mrs. Carlson. Welcome to our Junior College. As you know, we are looking for someone who can speak both French and German.).

Professor Meinhertz was a distinguished-looking individual whose German (hoch Deutsch) was impeccable. Although Susana was not as fluent in German as in French, she seemed to have satisfied the expectations of Herr Meinhertz. The remainder of the interview took place in English, to her great relief.

At the end of an hour, Grace intervened and said, "Thank you for coming, Susana. It has been a pleasure chatting with you. You have a very impressive dossier. We will let you know our opinion through Dean Wildridge. Have a nice day and thank you for making the trip down."

"Schön, Sie kennenzulernen (Nice to meet you)," Herr Meinhertz called out. "Vielen Dank. Es war mir auch eine Freude." (Thank you. It was a pleasure for me as well), Susana replied.

Frank had spent the morning walking around campus and admiring the very well-kept grounds. The buildings were new and conformed to a single architectural pattern.

When Susan came back to the car, she reported that, for the most part, things had gone smoothly. The meeting with Catherine Wildridge was fascinating since they talked a lot about her mother's days at Harvard. They had been, she reminded Frank, very close friends for two years and more.

Frank suggested that--even though he had not received an official invitation from the nearby university where he had applied--he might as well drop by and say hello to his Duke friend, Jeffrey Baynard, who was chair of the search committee. As a matter of fact, he had called Jeffrey during Susana's interview and managed to make a luncheon date at 12:30 in the downtown area of the nearby university town. Maybe, he surmised, there would also be a way to meet some of the political science faculty.

Susana pinched his forearm and laughed: "De deux choses l'une" (Kill two birds with one stone). "Maybe this will be a good day for us." She leaned her head on his shoulder and shut her eyes with contentment.

The luncheon went very well. Susana was delighted to discover that Jeffrey had invited two women colleagues to join them. With a twinge of jealousy, she noted that a Russian-born female scholar had taken a particular interest in Frank. They discussed at length the primary errors of the tsarist regime that led to the Russian Revolution. Susana found the second colleague--an Associate Professor in Constitutional Law and nation building as well as a Yale graduate--more interesting and compatible.

The professor's sister had graduated from Wellesley and they talked about the women's field hockey team and former language professors that even Susana remembered.

Jeffrey suggested that Frank meet a few of the political science faculty if they had the time. Susana was invited by the Yale grad to visit a portion of the campus. They had coffee at the student union and continued their discussion of Wellesley alumnae.

"You're not going to believe this but my grandmother was a student at Wellesley with Hillary Clinton," the Yale graduate stated with obvious pride. Susana knew better than to declare her political affinities to a complete stranger.

"Yes, it's interesting that so many pathfinders for women's causes have been Wellesley graduates," she answered, taking a secure middle-of-the-road stance.

At around three-forty Susana called Frank on his cell phone, concerned about the drive back home. "Coucou, mon bel homme [handsome], if we're going to make it back in time to have supper with the family, we need to get on the road tout de suite. What say you?"

"You're right. We're sitting in Jeffrey's office now chatting about the fate of the world and what to do with the Russian nuclear threat. I wasn't paying attention to the time. Let me wind up here and I'll call back."

Frank stood up and addressed the group: "Hey, it's been great to see you. We've got a long drive back to Georgia and we need to get going. Jeffrey, thanks for everything. Many thanks to your colleagues for their hospitality."

"Thanks to you as well. It's been a very pleasant meeting. I think we all agree on that," Jeffrey replied. "Let me walk you out to the car."

"This is a nice campus. So many new buildings." Frank observed. "I see there's a basketball arena in the center of the campus. I guess Duke doesn't play here. "

"No. We're not in their league, at least not yet."

As they walked, Jeffrey glanced at his watch and took Frank by the arm. "Look," he interrupted. "It's almost four-thirty--we've been a little too talkative, but it's been fun--and you have a good five-hour drive to get back to home in Georgia. That will put you there after ten o'clock if you stop for gas and a snack along the way. I don't think you'll be able to have dinner at all.