Marnie

"One incident was quite tame. I made a proposal ... a reasonable proposal, at the faculty monthly meeting ... to study revamping the program for undergraduates."

"OK."

"I may have call her 'closed minded.'"

"May have or did?"

"Did," she sheepishly admitted.

"And the second?"

"Ahhh ... that's a bit more involved."

"I don't have anything after our meeting ..." Marnie waited, wanting to hear the story.

"I see you were talking to Simone."

"Yeah, she was about to say something nasty about you when you arrived. I thought you were going to dump your coffee on her head."

Lauren laughed. "Simone's a snoop. I've caught her going through my stuff in my office ..."

"That's awful," Marnie interjected.

"I don't want you to think badly of me," Lauren cautioned, wanting to tell the story and hoping Marnie wouldn't be offended. She would likely hear it from someone else so better that she heard it from her. "Just promise me you won't repeat it."

"I promise."

"You really swear you won't tell."

"Yes ... yes ... what is it?"

"I was having video phone sex with Aline ... you know ... my ex-girlfriend. Simone walked in on me when I was holding the camera between my legs. I was naked from the waist down."

Mentioning the incident reminded Lauren to call maintenance once again. Lauren was certain she locked the door, but Simone was able to push it open anyway.

It took a moment for Marnie to process the information. She was glad she decided to say no to Simone. She wondered what Lauren would look like naked. The thought of her fingering herself behind her desk made Marnie tremble.

"Weren't you afraid something like that might happen? Being discovered I mean?

Lauren gave her a mischievous smile. "I was ... but that's what makes it exciting. Am I embarrassing you? I certainly don't mean to."

"No ... no ... it's just that I've never met anyone like you."

Lauren smiled again. "I hope you mean that in a nice way."

"In the nicest way possible," Marnie assured her.

"Anyway, I think that's why everyone in the department knows I'm a lesbian. It's also why I think Wentworth has it in for me as well. I'm sorry. I was just having a little fun. She came in without knocking."

"That satisfies my curiosity ..."

"You promised ..."

"Yes ... yes ... I promise."

"Let's put that unpleasantness aside," Lauren continued. "This is about you. I think you know more than you needed to about me. It's up to you whether you want me to be your advisor as we discussed. I'm not worried about my little scandal and I won't let it affect our professional relationship," Lauren said, mostly as a reminder to herself not to think about Marnie in the way she was thinking about her at that moment.

"I'd still like you to be my advisor. I appreciate what you've said about keeping our relationship professional," Marnie reassured her. For the first time, Marnie felt as if the yawning void left by her parents was beginning to fill with Lauren's larger than life presence.

"That's good. I wouldn't move forward with you if we couldn't," Lauren recited, but knowing she would have to curb her impulsiveness and attraction to the young redhead.

"By the way," she added, "I remember the deadline for submitting the forms is coming up."

"Yeah, I think it's next week."

Marnie made a face. "I'm really looking forward to seeing Wentworth again. I basically told her to piss off at the end of our last meeting. I kind of hate that bitch."

"Grit your teeth and do it."

Marnie left the meeting excited and confused. She was happy she finally found someone who she connected with and could help her complete her PhD requirements. But she couldn't understand why there was a tension between the two of them, a tension she hadn't felt before. She felt a shiver when she thought of her next meeting with Wentworth.

That night, when Marnie was undressing, she noticed that her panties was sticking to her crotch. There was a noticeable dark spot on the gusset. She finally admitted to herself something that her body had already told her -- she was sexually attracted to Dr. Lauren Byrne.

* * * * *

Chapter Six

The Confrontation

Marnie wanted to connect with some department members to vet Professor Steiner and then to ask Dr. Wentworth for her permission allowing Dr. Byrne to act as her faculty advisor. It took more than a few days to complete those discussions, and with work at the pub occupying all of her off hours, she had only a day to tender her request. She finally ginned up the courage to contact Wentworth, knowing she would probably refuse. She wasn't sure what she was going to do if Dr. Wentworth said no.

She was fortunate to have secured an appointment for the next day, in Dr. Wentworth's office. Marnie was fifteen minutes early, and was asked by the young man at the reception desk to sit in the adjoining waiting room and appear at his desk five minutes before her appointment.

Marnie frowned when she saw the waiting room was furnished with mismatched wooden chairs, probably surplus, that had no cushions. Annoyed, she sat upright to avoid leaning against the backrest and started reading her novel. It was the chapter on Sicily, and Marnie was taken by the description of the Sicilian countrywide and warm Mediterranean weather. She was engrossed in the chapter as Michael's new wife, Apollonia, was blown up in an attempt to kill him. She suddenly remembered to check the time. She had missed her appointment time by fifteen minutes.

Flustered, Marnie dropped her book. The already weakened spine gave way, scattering the loose pages of her book all about the waiting room floor.

"Shit!" she said under her breath. She started to pick up the pages and realized it would take her a few minutes to gather all of them up, and that the pages would be out of order and useless anyway. She gave up, dropping the remaining unraveled pages on the floor and walking over them to make her way to the receptionist.

The receptionist was sitting behind a desk and talking on the phone, so Marnie stood in front of her with her hands resting on the desk. The receptionist was now a young woman with dark hair and a prim and proper appearance. She continued to talk without looking up.

Marnie's usually patient disposition was overruled by her anxiety at meeting with Dr. Wentworth. Her first meeting ended badly, and now she had missed her appointment time for the second.

"Excuse me," she said in a normal voice, hoping the receptionist would hold her call for a minute.

The receptionist kept talking on the phone, although it was apparent she heard Marnie and chose to ignore her.

The pressure built up quickly this time and after a handful of maddening seconds, Marnie barked out, "Excuse me!" The volume of her voice got the receptionist's immediate attention. She put her hand over the mouthpiece.

"I'm finishing up a call if you please." She gave Marnie her dirtiest look and went back to her phone conversation.

Marnie was ignoring the nature of the receptionist's conversation, held in hushed tone, until the receptionist raised her voice that she was sure Marnie could hear it.

" ... so I'll have to call you back. A very rude student has prioritized her needs over yours, so I'll have to go now."

"yes ... yes ... I understand."

The receptionist gave Marnie a stern look.

"You interrupted me ..."

Marnie cowered a bit. She wasn't used to being this aggressive and it was coming back to bite her immediately.

"I'm so sorry," Marnie started. She was now truly sorry that she made the receptionist terminate her call.

"So what can I do that's so important to interrupt an important call?"

"I'm here to see Dr. Wentworth. I have a 3 o'clock appointment and I lost track of time. I'm so sorry ..."

Marnie had to fight back tears.

"Oh, then you must be Marnie Dunlavy."

"Why yes ... yes, that's me. So can Dr. Wentworth see me?"

"I'm not certain."

"Can you check for me?"

"No."

"What?" slipped out, before Marnie could think.

The receptionist's upper lip curled when she began to talk. She was clearly irritated.

"Ms. Dunlavy, I was talking to Dr. Wentworth when you rudely interrupted me. I didn't know who you were at that time, and Dr. Wentworth had told me that she needed to get on a conference call with the University's Executive Committee and to find out if you were there. I never got a chance to tell her because you interrupted me. I imagine she's on that call now and I'm not going to interrupt her until I see her line is clear. Is that satisfactory Ms. Dunlavy?"

"Yes," said Marnie meekly. The receptionist started typing on her keyboard, ignoring her. Marnie went back to the reception area, picking up the pages of the paperback that were now scattered throughout the waiting area. There were two other people now sitting in there who had apparently heard everything that was said. They glared at Marnie as she gathered in pages gone helter-skelter and clasped them against her chest. When she was done, she shoved them into her backpack, unorganized and likely headed for the dustbin.

Time passed slowly, but Marnie stayed glued to her seat, waiting for the receptionist to come and get her. She was tempted to get up, but each time told herself that she had already stepped way out of bounds. About a half hour later the receptionist finished a brief conversation on the phone, got up, and then came into the waiting room. Marnie had left her phone in her backpack so she wouldn't be distracted this time. She looked up the receptionist, who chose to hover over the contrite redhead.

"I just got off the phone with Dr. Wentworth. Unfortunately she has a personal call that will take about thirty minutes and then will have to prepare for a lecture she's giving tonight. She won't be available for the next three days. She'll be at a conference, so the earliest I can schedule you for is next week at the same day and time."

"Isn't there ..." Marnie started to protest, but was cut off. The receptionist's tone was now hostile.

"Dr. Wentworth is a busy person. She was kind enough to call me when you were already fifteen minutes late, and you interrupted me. If it were up to me, I wouldn't offer you another appointment."

Marnie felt trapped. She had procrastinated on this meeting, and the paperwork for the faculty advisor assignment was due that day. It wouldn't do any good to meet with Wentworth next week. She decided to do something desperate.

"Miss ... Miss ..."

"Miss Whitehead," she completed for Marnie.

"I'm so sorry ... I really need to see Dr. Wentworth today. I have a form she needs to sign today. I'm begging you please. Could you ask Dr. Wentworth if I can see her?"

The a rolled her eyes, but took pity on Marnie, who did have the look of desperation. She picked up her phone and dialed.

"Yes ... uh huh ..."

She typed something into her computer calendar.

"Yes ... yes ... I can do that."

She looked up at Marnie. She looked peeved. "Dr. Wentworth will see you now. Do you know where her office is?"

"Yes," Marnie almost whispered.

"Good, because I wasn't going to get up to show you."

She went back to her computer. Marnie picked up her backpack and walked briskly to Wentworth's corner office. She knocked on the frosted glass window of her door.

"Yes?" came a husky voice from inside.

"Dr. Wentworth, it's Marnie Dunlavy," she shouted through the glass.

"I can hear you. I'm not that old," said the irritated Dr. Wentworth. "Come in."

Marnie opened the door slowly and carefully, stepping inside the door but not making a move to the guest chair.

"Go ahead and close the door and have a seat," she said in a businesslike fashion. This was not going to be a conversation between friends.

Marnie closed the door softly.

"Lock it."

Marnie did so without question. It clicked into place.

"So what's so important that you had to upset my receptionist, who by the way I think is excellent, and cause me to change the phone call I've had on my calendar for a month with a close personal friend?"

Marnie didn't respond quickly enough to the barb.

Pamela noticed pages of The Godfather were sticking out of the top of Marnie's backpack. "Because she was too busy reading a trashy American novel?" the professor added, sticking the knife deeper.

Marnie immediately suppressed her instinct to defend the literary quality of The Godfather.

"I need to discuss my choice of a faculty advisor."

"Of course. It's due today. I thought you'd given up for this year because you missed your appointment."

"Dr. Wentworth ... I'm so sorry ..."

"No need to carry on with this. It's forgotten."

"Thank you." For a moment, Marnie thought that Pamela Wentworth might have a soul.

"I presume you're here to talk about Dr. Byrne again, is that right?"

"That's right. How did you know?"

Dr. Wentworth assumed an all too familiar imperial tone. "I make it my business to know what's going on in the department. I heard Dr. Byrne discussing your candidacy with some of the other professors."

She gave Marnie a puzzled look. "I wasn't on her list of references, was I?" she asked skeptically.

"No, but I'm interested in your thoughts," Marnie replied softly. She opted for flattery instead of being critical. "I know you're the most senior member of the department. I thought I'd be able to benefit from your years of experience and your perception of Dr. Byrne ... that is as an academician." She added the last part to discourage more personal attacks.

"She has solid credentials, and she's been praised by her students, I'll give you that."

"So you do think Dr. Byrne is qualified to act as my advisor?"

"Yes I do. But I have concerns of a more personal nature."

"I could have guessed so."

"So she told you about the incident with her lesbian lover, and her having phone sex in her office? In this building?"

"Yes ... yes she did," Marnie admitted. She saw no value in hiding the truth. Her stomach was doing flips.

"What she did ... what she did was disgraceful. It was a stain on this institution. If you knew about it, and still want to work with her, that makes you as much of a slut as she is. You come from a respectable family ... and now this!"

Marnie was stunned by Pamela's very personal attack. She tried to gather the courage to say something. She didn't before Dr. Wentworth spoke again.

"Marnie Dunlavy ... the cute slutty lesbian college girl, coming in with her air of superiority ... to me, after telling me last time to bugger off. I don't have to tell you what I've accomplished. You can read it on the University's website. What have you done besides being a barmaid at some filthy pub and reading trashy novels? And now you want me to sign a form so you can spend all of your time with an American slut who's disgraced our department?"

That was a question with no upside to answer.

"Come around to my side of the desk so I can talk to you." She said it in a condescending tone that was also compelling.

Marnie came around the desk and stood there, her backpack dangling from her hand. She had consciously dressed as conservatively as possible, wearing a blouse, plaid skirt and shoe combination she hadn't put on in at least five years. She was fidgeting as she stood there, now able to see all of Dr. Wentworth as she sat in her high back leather chair. She swiveled the chair so she was facing Marnie.

"So you want me to sign a form so you and your dyke friend can lick each other's pussies when you're supposed to be working on your dissertation?"

Marnie was in absolute shock. She didn't think a person in her position could talk that way to anyone, let alone a student she was responsible for. The way she said it made her feel disgusted and degraded. She was speechless.

Pamela Wentworth hiked up her skirt. She wasn't wearing any panties so she must have anticipated this confrontation. The thick curly black hair of her pubic patch was dense and matted, wet with the dew of her anticipation. She spread her legs wide to make clear what she wanted.

"You've already told me you're a dyke. Show me ... and I'll sign your form. Or not ... and I'll deny this ever took place. It'll be my receptionist's word, and mine, against yours. You decide."

She started moving her fingers against the large floppy lips of her vagina, with her puffy eyelids half closed. Her voice dropped lower, and became surprisingly seductive.

"Come her kitten. Come to Mommy." It was clear that Marnie had fallen into her trap. It was either wait an entire year, or do the unthinkable. She thought about the disappointment of her brothers and Fiona for all of the sacrifices they made to make this opportunity possible. She thought about Lauren. She already had affection for her, and if she did this it would help protect her from Wentworth. She did want Lauren, at least not in a physical way (or so she thought) because she was the smartest, wittiest and most attractive woman she had ever met.

Marnie knew she would regret her decision, but she relented. She shuffled her feet until she was standing between Pamela Wentworth thick, pasty white legs.

"Kneel down and touch me kitten."

Marnie knelt, and with her hand shaking, she reached forward and felt the moist wet heat of Pamela's sopping wet pussy. Pamela's wrinkled, vein covered hand covered hers and pressed it hard against her soaking snatch. The air reeked of sex.

"Harder kitten ... harder ..."

The older woman wiggled her massive hips in her chair, savoring the touch of this beautiful young woman. She knew that from the moment she first laid eyes on Marnie at the new student orientation seven years ago that she had to have her. Pamela remembered seeing the freshly scrubbed face of a gorgeous red headed woman of eighteen with the body of a mature woman, with full ripe breasts and rounded hips. Pamela wanted her from that very first moment.

And now she was watching this gorgeous creature touching her pussy ... touching it, she thought, because she chose to. Touching it because she wanted so bad to be with that bewitching slut Lauren Byrne. Pamela had masturbated many a night thinking about Lauren being forced to lick her pussy and ass. To submit to her will. To debase herself and at the same time offer pleasure. Marnie was the consolation prize. Pamela saw no opening to control Lauren, and Marnie had fallen right into her lap.

Pamela told herself that Marnie could have walked away, no harm done. All the women she abused had that choice, and many chose the path of obedience, and submission, instead of ruin.

Pamela enjoyed dominating women, and having power over them as she did with Marnie, gave her the kind of thrill that was worth risking her career and even her freedom. She had so few opportunities, and now the slut Lauren Byrne's latest conquest was hers. Pamela put her short, stubby fingers flat against Marnie's hollowed cheeks, closing her eyes and visualizing the redhead eating her pussy. This was her reward, she thought. For forty years of public service.

Marnie was getting no pleasure from finger fucking the older woman, and wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. She found that when she sunk her fingers deep and pressed upwards into the soft, spongy pussy wall that Pamela would moan louder. She rubbed harder with two fingers until Pamela started begging.

"Ohh, kitten ... yes ... yes ..." She clamped her legs together like a vise, squeezing Marnie's hand and pressing her fingers deeper inside.

Pamela was close. Her plea was urgent. Marnie was willing to do anything to end it.

"Quickly kitten, unbutton my blouse and free my titties."

Marnie's trembling hands unbuttoned two buttons slowly, exposing a deep valley of soft, white flesh. In a hurry, Pamela reached behind herself to unhook the four hooks on the back of her 40G bra. Her heavy, pendulous tits flopped out, the lily white skin streaked with fine stretch marks that marked her many years. Her nipples were brown, long, and hard. She was as aroused as she had ever been. Not in all the sessions with the others, including that cow Simone. She held her tits up and wedged Marnie's head between them.