Meeting Her Pt. 07: The Convention

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In November, Nancy showed what looked like an engagement ring from her Getty. For academic folks with no imagination the ring terminated any further discussion of the subject of me bedding Nancy. It was given that I had somebody to bed, there was even a betting pool on who. If they only knew.

After news of the paper got out I was held in higher regard by the gossips in the College because it seemed I could work with a young female, guiding her career without expecting sexual favors despite her tarnished reputation. It made me the front-runner for a prestigious "sensitivity" award, given by the female Business faculty (which now included Nancy). The award was sponsored by the Hightower Foundation, and rumor said that one of the Foundation trustees was pushing to make it larger than usual this year, "to increase the impact on male behavior."

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Chapter 7. Nancy's Presentation

Tuesday January 12, 2021, 3:30 to 5:00

Nancy's presentation was going very well. After I handed out the charts and other exhibits I watched from the back of the room until the 20 minute mark when I took a seat in the front row. Nancy was smooth, authoritative, and professional, everybody was listening because she knew some things they needed to know.

Plus, she was a young, slim, attractive female and therefore especially interesting.

Then, at the 25 minute point, when she asked for questions, the rodent dickhead stood up.

I called him the rodent, his name was something like that (is it Yiddish for rodent?) and it fit his looks. Four years ago, right after he got his PhD he landed a non-tenured 5-year endowed chair at a small (and shrinking) university. It was a desperate move by the school that was in trouble. Since most new PhDs land 3-year contracts he thought it was a good deal, too good to be true, but now he knew better. Somebody with a strange name (Tall Utah Bobo, the Car Wash King?) had more money than sense so it happened. The whole name had to be said each time the rodent was introduced at the University. The things people do... The university was not going to turn away $8 million from a high school dropout no matter what strings were attached.

He did not save the small university, in fact he did a pretty good job of hastening their demise because he was such a bad example he drove others away.

Now the rodent was trying to make a name for himself before the clock ran out on his contract. His school would replace him with somebody super or the small university would go under - either way he was on the way out of a paycheck. He was underpaid except for the endowment, so his standard-of-living would take a hit. He had also underperformed at his teaching job, some of that was bad breaks but some of it was also lazy and stupid. Like a rat on a sinking ship he was jumping about the flotsam trying to land someplace. To get reasonable money he had to have a track-record. He was a heavy quant/statistical guy who published about three articles a year that were tight in terms of the stats but looked at things nobody cared about, which was why he was stuck in third-tier journals and staring at unemployment.

Also, nobody liked him and nobody could work with him.

On a personal note, the rodent was 5 foot 4 and about 110 pounds. Rumor was that the 6 foot 2 amazon he married beat him and slept with her brother or his half-brother (rumors were not clear) 4 nights a week. The rodent was allowed to lick it up after. The university did not allow him in a classroom after his first lecture was a disaster and everybody dropped the class, they kept him only because he had that contract with the Car Wash King. The rodent was on the program for Thursday morning and probably coveted the cash presentation award. Part of his strategy to get that award was making others look bad. He picked on Nancy because she was first. It was a mistake that cost him dearly.

Rodent's first question was about running chi-squared tests on the second order residuals. It was not really needed, and to be honest I would not have done it because it tells you more about the test than the objective of the study. The primary test is robust for the non-normality that accounting stats display. So it is really a wasted effort telling you what you already know to be true.

Nancy replied that she had done that, and several other tests "as usual" and they were all okay at the 5% level. She said, "we did not include the tables because they would have tripled the size of the paper, making it too long for the program. There was no change in our conclusions, but I included them in the raw data."

It was a very polite way of saying that was a stupid question.

She waited for him to sit down, but he had another question. Rodent (really, I forget his name) asked, "but in test H5 you had US Steel and their value for S7's residual had to fall outside the range. Yet there is no reference to excluded data noted. Can you please explain that?" His tone was not positive, he was calling the pretty new superstar Nancy a liar in front of everybody who now loved her.

For just a moment I was worried. I have never seen Nancy be aggressive, and this guy was asking for that. Nancy had mentioned the US Steel issue to me, these things can screw up some tests so at first I was tempted to kick US Steel entirely, or at least filter it, but she asked for a day so I gave it to her. She came back saying that the Center handled it as a coding mistake and fixed it in the update. If I was on stage I would have named five other studies, including one by the rodent, where non-normality did not change the conclusions. We followed the standard.

But from the stage Nancy had a better view of the room and she saw an even better answer. She had this guy's number and she knew how to shut him up fast by knocking him down.

"I fear you are incorrect," she said clearly and with authority. It was not at all like she was saying "bad rodent" to him. Except she was, very clearly.

In a conference like this, those were fighting words, and the rodent threw his little fit, you could see he wanted to jump up and down. "I know the US Steel data is outside your test range, I tested it myself. How can you..."

Nancy cut him off, she had the microphone so she won. "Excuse me, let us get an informed opinion, shall we?" (This is a verbal kick in the nuts.) She pointed to a person in the front row (I could not see who) and said, "Professor Jenson, would you like to address this?"

Rick Jenson needed no introduction. He was 10 years out of his PhD and he had 11 articles, all in top 3 journals. The year when he had 2 articles, because of a timing thing, he was Researcher Of The Year, making him a megastar. His dissertation was 4 times the length of mine and he still had a few articles left in it. Rumors were that one of the tables he stuck in was a translation of his wife's ultrasound, because he took longer than she did.

Jenson's being at this convention was more unexpected than Dave Grohl of the Foo Fighters showing up at a high school battle-of-the-bands playing all the instruments himself.

I knew two other relevant facts: Jenson was Nancy's stats teacher when she was in the PhD program, and last year he took a Fellowship with the Center that provides the data everybody uses.

"Sure thing Nancy," Rick Jenson said standing up. He had a great booming voice and his tone said it all, with that first-name greeting he gave his blessing and settled the issue, but he had to add a little extra, to kick somebody who deserved it in the tail. The room got quiet.

"Miss Collenwood and Dr. Braxton are correct here. They inquired properly about US Steel after their initial run showed the issue. The Center found an accounting error was hidden in the original data input. The SEC was properly informed. The corrected tapes were sent out with the usual Q3 updates 3 months ago. I tested the results myself, it ties into one of my projects and frankly, Nancy's 5 minute call saved me 6 months because I was able to rerun my test using updated data." There was no higher praise than saying Nancy had helped him big time.

Jenson could have stopped there, but somebody deserved more. He turned his full attention on the rodent, and the room followed every word. "If, as you say, you tested it you must have used an incorrect test or incorrect data. The data is correct on the updated tapes. I am sure you will correct your study with the revision. I don't know why you wouldn't have the update."

Actually we all knew the answer to that. Data tapes cost a bundle so his school must have stopped paying for the updates because they were cutting their rodent losses... it happens to rats on a sinking ship. In this case his Rodentness jumped from a sinking ship... and made a splash in front of a barracuda. After being told that he was "incorrect" twice in one sentence by the megastar, no school in the room would hire him. Within three months the whole midwest would know he was an asshole and all of his current work would be called into question. He might not deserve that, the guy worked hard.

But when you choose to cross swords, you can get cut.

With the rodent still standing there, bright red from shock and paralyzed with near-terminal embarrassment, the moderator took over. He thanked us (I stood up when he acknowledged me while pointing out that there was no chair for me on the stage) and introduced the next presenter right on time.

The moderator was happy, keeping a bunch of academics on schedule is harder than it looks. It is a thankless job.

People always come and go when a new presenter starts, but it seemed that they all watched the rodent to scurry out first, all alone and friendless. He would make some extra special memories from the assembly.

I sat there for the next hour, it was bad manners for Nancy to leave the stage and I wanted to show her I cared. I knew that inside she was flying and the hour seemed like 5 minutes. She had done a great job and impressed a lot of folks.

While the next presenter was introduced Jenson came over to me and spent a few minutes with me. Jenson knew me well enough. During my PhD program he visited the campus to present a project and I made some comments at the presentation.

When it was time to relax we spent a night sharing a bottle of scotch and a big-busted Irish - in the form of a red-headed MBA student named Beverly or Bonnie or Bunny or something like that. I was asked by Jenson's faculty handler to introduce them, and we got along so well they both asked me to stay for the fun. The red-head was a known star-fucker who liked doing two guys at once, DP or spit-roast. She wanted a double-vaginal, but that was not going to happen.

Jenson was married. He mentioned early in the evening that he and his wife Martie had an "true stories" arrangement where, whenever they were in a different area codes, they could play but had to confess all, with details including names, in bed when they got home. That night I remembered Rick did not cum in the girl's pussy, he left that for me. He enjoyed himself in her mouth, ass and all over her lovely white tits as she sucked his balls. (Yes, we were balls-to-balls during the DP.) Subsequently I met Jenson's wife Martie at the national convention. She heard my name and immediately recalled the story of that night. She said her husband recommended me to her as a gentleman and an excellent lover. He said I had done the heavy-lifting all night, allowing him to play it for fun while I kept the girl interested. "Not an easy task," Martie noted. "You must be very good to the ladies." I was leaving on an evening flight, so I could not do what she would have liked. She suggested that if I was ever in town when Rick was away, she was anxious to thank me. I said I would like that, Martie looked like Megan Fox.

Once, on another trip, I almost changed my travel plans to make it happen. Even after two kids, and being a decade older than me, Martie had a sexy air about her that tempted me, it made me want to please her in every dirty way she wanted.

Now, with a nod to Nancy, Rick said he was pleased with the improvement he saw in his former student, and hoped that she was finally on a better path - one where no "townie" was going to spoil things.

I replied that her last "townie" gave her a fake ring, but he died of a "lifestyle gunshot" soon after. Rick was shocked to hear that last part, but I said maybe the shock killed her bad luck. I confessed I had worked myself into the picture.

Jenson had talked to Dr. Kent so he knew the whole story on the study. His unspoken question was if I was looking for something long-term with Nancy.

I said I would not settle Nancy down, he knew I wasn't that guy. But I was working to keep her on track and build her self-esteem, which was really what she needed first, to avoid the losers she was used to. He nodded, he knew about her problems. We talked about her education, he was willing to help and would arrange to run into her in the next day or two so they could talk.

Then he smiled and wished me good luck in the next hour after this session ended. We both knew that after the successful presentation Nancy had a lot of emotional energy built up to discharge. He assumed my handy lightning rod would be used.

He was right of both counts, and it sounded good to me.

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Chapter 8. Flying

Tuesday January 12, 2021, 5:05

Nancy was flying after her presentation. She had just given her first talk to a room full of serious men and a few women who she considered superior to herself in every way. Some had been her teachers. They were more than respectful, they paid attention to everything she said - they learned from her and she made the connection with them. Then came the unexpected excitement at the end with her unanimous victory vanquishing the schoolyard bully rodent in the after-school fight. It was more than exhilarating.

As Jenson had predicted, she had an excess of emotional energy which she could not discharge by herself.

After the panel was dismissed she made a beeline straight for her Honey - who looked as handsome like me. Grabbing my hand she almost ran to our room where, as soon as the door was closed, she gave me a heck of a kiss while dragging one of my hands to her panties. They were soaked. I thought that might be unhealthy so the garment was promptly removed. She was really feeling good, slippery all along her slit, and I imagine she broadcast those feelings to all of the old guys on the stage with her. She broke the kiss to spend a few seconds getting my clothes open, she didn't make it to the bed. Instead she perched her butt on the edge of a barstool and did what was needed to get my lightning rod into her body so we could start sparking.

We sparked big time as soon as my cockhead was in. Pulling my body against her she climaxed on the spot, with my arms around her I felt the wave of pleasure go through her. She said a loud "YESSS... again," as I pushed into her body.

She resumed our kiss. Actually it was more like she devoured me as I started stroking. This was just the start, like Jenson knew she would. Only when the next climax came did she break the kiss, but not the vice-like embrace.

"Fuck... what was a FUCKING rush that was!" she said in a vibrato as I slid in and held myself in her quivering body, so she got what she needed. We were both breathless, and I was deep inside her body where she was doing this internal happy dance, even if most of our clothes were still on.

She apparently decided that, with the barstool's help, I could hold her up as she enjoyed herself like an energized slut-bunny on my cock. I started moving again, I was feeling in a very good place myself as I provided the desired stimulation in and out of her sweet gooey center. I could do without some clothes, my trousers were around my calves so balance was an issue, but I was working on that.

As I thought of it, the inconvenience of my clothes probably kept me from coming too fast. Not to mention all my own climaxes recently - like the last 26 hours.

I was strong enough to get her started, but then I had to adjust to get more of her weight resting on that bar stool, to aid movement and make sure I touched her good spots on each stroke. That was hard to do with the lip-lock she had, but eventually I got there, to a better balance. Things kept progressing nicely.

"Fuck... I am so lucky I blew you at that convention almost a year ago," she said. "It fucking changed my life."

"Don't sell yourself short. Today was a victory you earned in August because you are very smart, very well trained, and you work damned hard. You deserve it all. President Curtis got me to Hillside, but you got your own wonderful self up on that podium to impress the learned crowds."

"It was your working paper. I just..."

"A working paper that would have gone into the trash if you didn't see it through your eyes in a way I could not see it. That is on you."

"Oh FUCKSOGOOD!" I felt her squeeze me hard inside. I wasn't sure if it was a climax or an emotional release, but whatever it sure felt like a good one to me, so I counted it. Not that I was keeping score. "You feel so fucking wonderful inside me!" She kissed me again. This was a hot and hungry devouring passionate deep kiss while fucking, it was not going to end soon. Before this convention our only face-to-face kiss had been under the mistletoe while Isabel, Curtis and the rest watched, we both held back. Even earlier today, she didn't relax into it. For this one she was all in, tongue and lips and passion and feeling and pure adult joy all mixed in with her body working overtime moving on my cock. I matched her feeling of ignited passion and need for movement. These were our first real passionate kisses, and it felt pretty fucking good.

When we loosened up to shed a few more bits of fabric (her padded bra had to go), I happened to notice that Isabel was watching us. Actually, since she was hiding under the covers, I could say she was spying on us.

Our eyes met in silent acknowledgement but that was all. She wanted to keep it that way.

Isabel was completely hidden under the covers piled on the bed, her face told me she did not want to intrude but she was fascinated to watch us. Nancy was thin enough to pull off this position, but I imagined that for Isabel and me it would have been unstable. Plus, Nancy was HOT to watch, like the best parts of those old pornos Isabel had. It was too good not to keep watching.

Nancy was facing the other way so she could not see Isabel, and I did not see any need to call attention.

When I was not kissing her lips, Nancy added more conversation as we fucked. "This was suuuuuch a good idea... I didn't think... I had my doubts... but standing... a half-dozen of my old profs... they listened to every word... then at the end... Jensen! I KICKED ASSSSSS... oh fuck yes...yeS... YESSSSS... that IS SO GOOD."

I had no reason to object or complain, so I switched my focus back to Nancy and her gooey center. In addition I perused her nipples which we had worked together to expose for my attentions. She was impatient and pulled my lips to them. "Soft... Hard... Please!" she was not clear. It occurred to me that this was where Isabel could help, but she was having too much fun watching. I knew what to do, both nips got some quick attention before my tongue started lashing one like crazy, we both liked the connection as she made happy noises... a mixture of moaning and giggling with a bit of hysterical laughter added along with a noticeable increase in her production of pussy juice in the gooey now-liquid center region.

A happy Nancy is a moist Nancy, and fucking moist Nancy is good.

In moments I almost forgot about our audience, Nancy had gone from some very pleasant and enthusiastic movement into some even more pleasant conniptions. One might even say that she was leading the dance. "Oh fuck me you wonderful man... Do me... You are sooooo good."