Mike & Karen Ch. 12

"If that's true, though, wouldn't that make him the most obvious suspect in an inquiry?" Karen mused. "Not very clever of an academician."

"People get desperate, Gordon, and they lose their rationale in the face of adversity!" he hissed, pacing back and forth again. "Dudley, Dudley, Dudley ... it must be him!" he declared, waving his finger around. "It's envy, you know, Dudley is consumed with it!"

"It's one of the Seven Dudley Sins, sir," Mike added.

"By all that's holy, shut up, DeBourne!!" the dean almost yelled while Karen turned her head to look up at her cohort in disbelief. The dean flopped down in his chair, his head clasped in his hands. "Oh my God! Is this what the rest of my life is going to be like?!"

"Do you have any real security systems in here, sir?" Mike asked, attempting to get Karen to stop staring at him.

The dean shook his head in despair. "No, no ... just the lock on my door, and the locks on my file cabinets and drawers. I don't have cameras or alarms or anything. And the university sure as Hell wouldn't pay for them."

"Well, what if my friends and I did a quick install job?" the titan student proposed. "I've got buddies in A/V; we could mount some cameras in subtle locations. Once you leave, you just turn them on, and we can see if anyone is entering your office without your knowledge."

The dean considered. "The only person who is supposed to come in is Padget, the cleaning woman. I somehow doubt she's involved. Perhaps it's not a bad idea, DeBourne."

"With your leave, sir, we'll begin working on it tonight, then," Mike said, folding his powerful arms across his massive chest. "Then we can --"

"Yes, yes yes," the dean muttered dismissively, clearly eager to return to fussing uselessly. "Get back here after you have all the equipment you'll need. In the meantime, I have to try and get ready for my review. I'm getting so constrained for time because of this nonsense, I might have to call off commissioning the overhaul of the McLuhan Lounge if I miss the funding request deadline. Those plans are around here somewhere. Now go!"

The two students turned and made for the door, before Mike paused and looked back at his department head. "Sir?"

"What?!" the dean snapped, looking at him.

"You really should consider a different shade of roses in that vase," Mike said. "They don't go with the aesthetic at all ..."

Karen hurriedly pushed him out the door and closed it, just in time to hear the vase smash against it on the other side.

"You really are the most exasperating person," she sighed as she marched down the hall, making sure he kept moving forward. "Is being helpful really that anathema to you?"

"Oh, Groucho just needs to calm down," Mike snorted. "Nothing a couple of bags of prunes won't fix."

"No argument there," Karen admitted, shaking her head. They walked in silence for some time, with Mike knowing better than to reference the compromising situation he'd found her in earlier. It would be as if it had never happened. Eventually, though, he looked down at her, because he could hear her beginning to snicker.

"The Seven Dudley Sins," she said, trying not to laugh, her lovely features creased with mirth. "That was good, I'll give you that one."

"Thank you," Mike said airily, but secretly pleased by the compliment from the one person on the planet he cared for the approval of. "So if I talk to my nerks in A/V, do you want to start turning over rocks to see what you can dig up on Dudley?"

She looked up at him curiously. "You were serious about doing this? I actually assumed we would just leave it and let the matter sort itself out. Granted, he would call us in and rant at us once in a while, but I had no particular intention of following up."

"Oh, absolutely," Mike said as they exited the building and he walked her across campus toward her dorm. "Someone asks me to do something, and if I agree to it, then I take it seriously."

"You never cease to surprise, Grape Ape," Karen mused, smirking.

Mike stopped down and looked at her for a moment, but then a sly grin kept across his face.

"Busted, Gordon!" he laughed. While she frowned. "You expect me to believe that you don't know Freddy and Daphne from Scooby-Doo, when you can readily reference a garbage-tier, mid-Seventies Hanna-Barbera show like Grape Ape? You do know your Saturday morning cartoons!"

She blushed and shifted around uncomfortably, knowing she was caught. "I ... oh, fine. Yes, I am familiar with Saturday morning cartoons, and not just because I'm friends with Mona the animator. I loved trying to predict the identity of the villain before the Mystery Gang could, and I always did it. But keep your voice down! Not everyone on campus needs to know!"

"HEY, EVERYONE!" Mike bellowed loudly to anyone in the commons. "KAREN GORDON WATCHED SATURDAY MORNING CARTOONS WHEN SHE WAS A KID!"

From a distance, there was one small response of 'Woo!', but aside from that, nothing but the sigh of the crisp October wind. Mike looked at her and shrugged.

"See? Nobody cares."

"Well thank you for that blow to my self-image ..." she muttered. "Now finish walking me to my dorm so I can ignore you in peace."

Mike got her to the door of her residence, and she turned and nodded to him as a thank-you for the escort before heading inside. He looked at the cobbled stone of the landing in front of the dorm for a few moments before heading to his own room, whistling On the Street Where You Live to himself. As always, he was oblivious of the stares of the other students as he strode by.

Perhaps unusually, Mike had a private room, an accommodation made by the university as part of his scholarship ride. He was so large that he required the space for himself, instead of having a roommate, including an abnormally large bed. His desk was also considerably larger than average. He used the dormitory showers, however, since they couldn't readily adjust the shower in his bathroom.

His dorm mates greeted him cheerfully, reminding him that he was supposed to make food that night, in the dorm kitchen. Everyone interested had kicked in some funds, and he was making a huge batch of Haudensaunee Three-Sisters Soup, and acorn bread. He always made more than was necessary, so that he could take some to students he thought might be in need.

He was due down in the kitchen just over an hour from now. He lay on his bed, arms resting behind his head, staring at the ceiling. He should've been thinking about his recipe and portions, but his mind kept drifting back to the incident an hour earlier, when he'd walked in on Gordon.

In truth, he'd been looking for a lounge to sit quietly in and do some reading. He'd recently procured a secondhand copy of Thomas Aquinas' Summa Theologica from the campus bookstore, and had been looking forward to digging in. He'd opened the lounge door, not hearing the muffled moans on the other side until it was too late. He'd paused, staring down at Karen Gordon as she writhed naked on a girl's face while she sucked on the cock of some guy leaning back against the wall. He'd done his best to keep the dumbfounded look off his face.

No matter how trying he found her, he couldn't help but think of her- Gordon's body was an erotic fantasy, and she knew it, even if she tended to wear clothes that merely hinted at it, rather than announcing this glorious fact. Her beautiful, patrician face, those bewitching golden-amber eyes that betrayed her matchless intellect, her silken, shining bronze hair ...

Her large breasts stood proudly on her chest, capped with dark pink nipples, begging to be kissed. Her lithe, firm torso tapered into her slender waist, the soft skin hinting at the strong core muscles beneath. Her dancer's hips and legs framed her womanhood, which she kept intriguingly shaved, except for a thin strip of coppery hair just above. He'd no doubt it would become a trend before long.

As a sexual being, she was hypnotic to see, something he'd never done before. Sure, other people caught in such positions could seem somehow cheap or promiscuous, but this was not the aura she gave off, no matter how compromising her position -- she seemed a goddess of sexual desire, sharing a touch of divine gift with the mere mortals around her, a bronze-haired Aphrodite who took lovers as she pleased. Her proclivities were beyond reproach.

Mike blinked and realized he was aroused. With a sigh, he rolled onto his side to reach for a small tube on the table next to his bed.

He still had 45 minutes ...

***

Heather was lying on her stomach on her bed, biting her bottom lip to keep from groaning loudly, while her legs remained spread, with Freja scissored between them. The Danish girl was also lying on her stomach, facing away from Heather, and grinding her pussy back against her new lover's with great eagerness. She panted as she writhed in bliss.

Heather shuddered and went rigid, burying her face in her pillow and shrieking loudly as she came. Freja gripped the bed sheet between her teeth, almost tearing at it while she tried to control her voice. Their pussies throbbed and slathered one another, slippery lips mingling, and clits kissing. Then, both girls collapsed into the soft bed, trembling, but otherwise lying still. Some minutes passed, before Freja wearily pushed herself up on all fours, her limbs still shaky. But she managed to turn herself around and begin crawling over Heather's supine form, lying down on top of her and cuddling. Heather hummed in contentment.

"God, no wonder you were Alexa's favourite before Alex came into her life," she purred, undulating her butt against Freja's hips and smiling. "A girl could get used to that kind of orgasm."

"Ja, I enjoyed it as well," murmured Freja, kissing Heather's shoulder. "You are a most welcome lover for Jeanette and myself, if you wish."

Heather turned her head a little to look up at Freja. "Your wife wouldn't mind?"

Freja shook her head. "Not at all; we welcome as many lovers as we can, since it makes everyone happy. I believe she is with Alex right now, in fact."

She sensed a slight change in Heather's body and hugged her tightly. "I am sorry, I was unthinking when I said that. I am understanding if Alex is still a sore point for you."

"I guess everyone knows, hm?" Heather almost muttered.

"Well, Alexa is my soulmate, she tells me everything, just as I tell her," Freja answered, snuggling and holding her close. Heather responded pleasantly, nestling in. "And the people who know are myself and my Jeanette, Mike and Karen, Alexa and Alex, of course, and you."

"At least only a small circle knows of this blow to my self-esteem ..." Heather sighed. Freja giggled and kissed her.

"Silly," she cooed. "I like you."

"You're all happily married couples," Heather pointed out. "I kinda feel like a seventh wheel. When you came along, I was just getting shot down by the prof, as you noticed."

Freja smiled. "He is a hard case, I am knowing. I have only had sex with him once on my own, and Jeanette and I got destroyed by Mike and Karen once in a jacuzzi when we told them we were better at sex than they were."

"Ooh, ow," Heather said, sucking in her breath. "Not your brightest moment, I take it."

"Jeanette and I, we were both walking funny for days," Freja admitted. "Mike, he is very ferociously devoted to his wife, and she to him. As much as I love my Jeanette, and Alexa loves Alex, we aspire to be as desperately in love one day as Mike and Karen are."

"Well, maybe I don't feel so bad about being shot down, then," Heather giggled as she turned herself over to look up at Freja, who was still lying on top of her. Their breasts squashed together and she hugged the Danish girl close. They kissed deeply for some time, before Heather broke the kiss to take a breath. "Hope I find my true love sometime in the near future. And since you and Alexa are trying to turn me bi, my potential mate pool has just doubled in size."

"Well ..." Freja said softly, looking down into her eyes and running her fingers through Heather's light brown hair, "... we are happy to act as your training partners, Jeanette and I, just in case it happens to be a woman."

"What about Alexa?" Heather asked.

"I am assuming that Alexa would not mind, as long as you are not interfering with her and Alex," Freja mused. "I know Alex wouldn't care at all. He is like his father, he thinks nothing of what women do with other women."

"Hm, and what about Alex?" asked the brunette a little uncertainly.

"That is up to Alex, of course," reasoned the Danish girl. "If he thinks you are still harbouring feelings for him, he will keep you out of his pants, I am certain. Expect only arms-length hugs if that is the case."

"Well, his dad kinda helped set me straight on that issue, and I guess it'll still take some time, maybe, but he made it obvious that my feelings for him can't hold a candle to the ones Alexa has for him," Heather said. "She'd take a bullet for him or get raped to death by dick-wolves for him. I doubt I like him that much."

Freja snickered. "I have taken a paintball barrage for my Jeanette, but I am dreading to think what lengths my Alexandra would go to for her man."

"Well, she's not here at the moment, and neither is Alex," Heather pointed out, smiling slyly. "So how about we just forget them for a bit, and you show me some more of that Geno Fifty-whatever, hm?"

"I am liking how you think ..." Freja purred, before kissing her deeply again as they sank into the bed.

***

"I would've imagined that your lounge was a lot quieter than mine," Mike mused as he strode down the corridor next to Mona. "Y'know, lack of testosterone and all."

"Yeah, but I'll bet yours has a less catty atmosphere than ours," the animation and art student pointed out. "Thanks for escorting me from the Art Gallery."

"Well, I'd finished my assignments and homework, so why not?" he said cheerfully. "I know a few of those streets you'd be coming up can be problematic."

"Shouldn't have to ask for a bodyguard, but there you go," Mona mused. "Ever been in this dorm's lounge?"

They arrived at the lounge and she gestured for him to enter- Mike opened the door and entered, and glanced around quickly, taking in the scene. There might have been thirty people in the room, of whom three were men. He recognized a few of the students, noting that Gordon was sitting off in a corner by herself, deeply engrossed in some book. She didn't look over at the door as he entered, but she raised her head and frowned, as if she'd sensed a disturbance in the Force. She then returned to her reading.

The room was loud with laughter and chatter.

The phone on the wall rang. Any students who heard it looked up, then over at Mike expectantly, since he was the closest person to the phone. They then returned to their conversations without another word. Mike shrugged and picked up the handset.

"House of Lords, God speaking ..." he said.

"Gordon? Is that you?" someone almost yelled, their voice barely carrying over the din of the lounge. "I can hardly hear you!"

"Oh, no sir," Mike replied, recognizing the dean. "It's me, DeBourne. Remember? I'm the good-looking one."

"That's right," the dean said flatly. "She's the smart one."

Mike wasn't quite sure what to say in response to that, and the call hung quietly for several seconds.

"Listen, dopey," the dean continued, losing patience. "Your video equipment has finished its first recording period, and I thought it would be prudent to examine it, but I want you here for analysis, since you set it all up."

"I'll be up shortly, sir," Mike replied.

"Bring Gordon with you," the dean ordered. "Don't forget."

Then the line went dead. Mike shrugged and hung up. The titan student then walked over to the small cluster of chairs where Mona was now sitting with Gordon and some others. He towered over them and Karen looked up at him and frowned.

"You're in my light, Kabandha."

"And here I thought the hellfire in your eyes would provide all the illumination you'd need for reading," he replied, stepping to the side to tower over Lisa, who squeaked and sank into her chair. "Our presence is required."

"Let me guess," Mona said, looking unimpressed. "Your dean. That horrible little munchkin. Whatsisname?"

"Groucho."

"Marks, right," Mona said, nodding. "What's he got you two doing? Some impossible physics equation the profs can't handle?"

"Nothing that splendid," Karen sighed, closing her book. "He's got a mystery he needs solved, and we're assisting him in the caper."

"Wow, so you're like Freddy and Daphne, hm?" Lisa asked, smiling at her roomie and causing Karen to roll her eyes.

"More like Velma and Shaggy to hear the dean talk about it," Mike muttered. "No sense keeping him waiting ..."

Fifteen minutes later ...

The three of them stared at the small TV screen. The dean was scowling but turning red with embarrassment, Karen was holding her books to her chest and fighting a losing battle not to smirk, and Mike simply looked bemused.

Mike had retrieved the Betamax cassette player and hooked it up to a TV he'd put on the dean's desk. Once it was ready, he'd hit Play. He fast-forwarded through the mostly empty footage of the office until something happened. He slowed down to reveal the cleaning lady, a stout Irish woman named Padget, entering the room and starting to clean, as usual.

Not long after that, though, a student that Mike recognized as from the Lit department joined her. They fell into one another's arms and began kissing heatedly. It didn't take long for the young man to have Padget out of her work clothes and sitting on the desk with her legs spread and him kneeling in front of her, licking her womanhood. Then, he lay on the desk while she sucked on his cock with a will before getting up on the desk and mounting him. As she was bouncing up and down on his tool, another male student entered the office, stripped naked and stood behind them both and began fucking her in the ass.

"Wow, go Padget ..." Mike said, amused.

"That's not funny, DeBourne!" the dean snapped.

Then Padget spun around on top of the first boy and kissed the second one greedily while fucking the one on the desk. This could only mean that it wasn't her ass the second boy was fucking.

"Oopsie-doodle," Karen said, trying to keep the titter out of her voice, since she'd lost the battle to not smirk. "I got that one wrong completely."

"Oh, don't you start now," the dean grumbled. "Just ... just forward through this nonsense, see if anything else happens."

Mike nodded and fast-forwarded through the tape, but nothing else seemed to happen. The dean began pacing back and forth while the student replaced the VCR in its hidden location and returned the TV to the wall unit. Karen kept her books pressed tight to her chest, wishing they were colder.

"Well, that was pointless," grumped the academic bureaucrat, looking out his window with a scowl. "We'll try again, of course, because obviously someone is getting in."

"Padget in more ways than one," Mike pointed out. Karen closed her eyes and hung her head while the dean glared at him, but then sighed and returned to his desk.

"Have you two found out anything?" the dean asked, tapping a pencil against his desk. "Any news about Dudley?"

Karen shrugged. "Nothing out of the ordinary, sir, to be honest. I had my class on Statistical Mechanics with him yesterday, and he seemed his normal self."

"Except for his rampant jealousy!" the dean announced.

Karen chose her words carefully. "He's ... hiding it very well, sir, which I would do if I were in his shoes and under these circumstances."