The Interview

Professor Neal Longosch believed there was only one way to teach public affairs reporting: hands on. If a college sophomore was going to learn how to report on politics after graduation, they had to experience the process first hand. They had to be at the local board of elections on election night; they had to attend candidate's acceptance and concession speeches; they had to interview real people.

The word on campus was that Longosch was demanding, but you'd learn a lot. The word among the coeds on campus was that Longosch was worth staring at for an entire semester. He was forty, good looking, and in shape. In fact, it shocked most students to find out his real age. The unmarried Neal Longosch seemingly could have his pick of young women.

He had been tempted many times. And each time he kept his desires under control. The students he might have given in to were all very attractive and sexy. None of them interested him beyond a single encounter and he didn't think it was worth the risk.

Nearly any professor could have nearly any student if it meant a passing grade for the student. It happened every day. Neal Longosch was above all that. He sometimes reasoned with himself by saying, 'If I flunk that really cute babe, she'll have to take the class again.'

But he never, in fifteen years of teaching, seriously considered having sex with a female student.

Until Jenifer Huntington stepped into his class.

The only thing extraordinary about Jenifer were her looks. She was shy, introverted, and marginally intelligent. The idea of using her cuteness to further her reporting career had never once crossed her mind. Despite her Midwestern upbringing, Jenifer appeared to come straight from a southern California beach. Blonde and tan with a swimsuit model's body...she had it all. The only person who didn't appreciate that was Jenifer.

She rarely dated, having had a couple bad experiences with immature, overly hormonal guys who nearly had her undressed before the dates started. In both cases she escaped before anything happened.

Even before those unfortunate incidents, nineteen year old Jenifer was attracted to older men. She never acted upon it; it was just her preference. And now she was sitting in a new class looking up at one of the best looking older men she had ever seen in her life.

Jenifer thought to herself: 'It would be cool to know him.'

Neal thought to himself: 'I've GOT to have her.'

The progression of events that led to the realization of both of their wishes began with a meeting in the professor's office the second week of the semester. The May primaries were just around the corner and Neal had handpicked the students who would accompany him to the board of elections and major campaign headquarters. Jenifer, of course, was invited.

"Each of you will have an assignment," the professor told the six students. "I will spend as much time with you as I can, but a lot of the work you will have to complete on your own. That's the way it's going to be in the real world, so don't bitch about it."

He detailed the assignments and allocated one to each student. Jenifer would attend the likely victory celebration of an incumbent Senator. Neal knew it would take his intervention for Jenifer to get anywhere near the politician for an interview. Not so coincidentally, he would have to spend considerable time with her.

The professor handed out schedules, meeting places, background notes, and other useful information. At the end, he asked, "Who wants to ride down with me?"

Two hands went up immediately. One was Jenifer's.

All of this worked out fine. The vast majority of the class wanted as little interference from Neal as possible. Jenifer didn't mind in the least trailing behind her new favorite teacher. And Neal desperately wanted her trailing along.

Primary election day dawned as a perfect spring day with temperatures forecasted into the high seventies. Jenifer showed up dressed as professionally as a young college student could—in a light weight skirt and blue knit top that hugged her hourglass figure. The colors contrasted perfectly with her hair, eyes and skin and Neal realized it was going to be a long day. Looking back in his rear view mirror while they drove and chatted, catching glimpses of her long, lean legs, made it difficult to concentrate.

Neal had always been a breast man and he had rarely seen a pair as tempting as Jenifer's. No, they weren't the biggest...by far. He wasn't into that. He loved round, firm and alluring without being 'in your face.' Jenifer's top dipped just low enough to show the first hint of cleavage. After that, only the general shape was offered up as enticement.

Perfect tits, to him, should barely exceed the size of his hands and have nipples that begged to be sucked. By all accounts, Jenifer's fit the bill.

The entire time in the car, Neal had to force himself to acknowledge Carly, the other girl that rode along, despite his total indifference towards her. At times, though, it was a welcome respite from his dangerously unvarying attraction to Jenifer.

Finally, they arrived at the capital and Neal escorted Carly to her assignment at the Secretary of State's office. Neal made sure she knew what her tasks were and arrangements were made to pick her back up at the end of the day.

Neal felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders as he went back to meet up with Jenifer. Now it was just the two of them. They drove a short distance to the Senator's campaign headquarters, formerly a large retail operation that was now out of business, and walked inside. It wasn't the bustling madhouse Jenifer expected and she mentioned that to Neal.

"Oh, almost all the work is done now," he told her. "They will still be making phone calls and offering to take people to the polls. But the actual campaigning is over."

Rows of circular tables with chairs faced a couple large screen TVs, ready for the evening's activities. Harried people rushed past Neal and Jenifer as if they weren't there, and the pair weaved their way towards a small group of people in the corner.

One man waved at them and Neal replied loudly, "Joe! How's it looking so far?"

They met half way and the men shook hands. "Exit polling is good. Should be a comfortable win," Joe said. "Who is the future Pulitzer winner this year?"

Joe was looking straight at Jenifer with a wide grin.

"This is Jenifer. Jenifer, this is Joe Clark, the guy in charge of this operation," Neal said. "If we're nice to him, you'll get to meet the winner tonight."

Joe and Jenifer shook hands. "Nice to meet you," she said. "I'm excited. This will be a great learning experience."

"I hope you're in broadcast journalism and not print," Joe said. "You're much too pretty to be a newspaper reporter."

Jenifer blushed. "We'll see."

Joe showed them around, all for Jenifer's benefit. She conducted interviews with Joe and other staffers under the watchful eye of her professor, appreciating the practice she was getting under non-stressful circumstances. The time seemed to fly by. After a quick snack for dinner, it was nearly 'show time', as Joe called it.

At one point, Neal sought out and found an obviously vacant office far in the back of the headquarters where the two of them could dissect how Jenifer had handled the interviews.

"Think ahead," Neal was saying. "Anticipate the say-nothing response you know you're going to get and be thinking of another way to get them to answer. Force them to say more than they want to say."

Jenifer scowled. "That's just not my personality. Being forceful, I mean. Am I being too nice? I thought I was getting good quotes."

Neal smiled. "You can be nice and still get better quotes. You're doing great. But I know you can do even better."

Jenifer looked relieved. "I can't tell you how much I'm enjoying this, Professor Longosch. This is going to be a great class."

Neal touched her on the arm. "I don't expect miracles from students in this class. But I look for improvement each time you do an interview. Are you thinking about what to ask Senator Smith?"

Jenifer was only thinking about his hand on her arm and the tingles she was feeling up and down her spine.

"Ah, no."

Neal smiled "You're running out of time. Jot them on your notepad as they come to you in the next half hour."

He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

"And don't be nervous," he added.

'How can I even write with my hands shaking the way they are?' she thought to herself. And politics had nothing to do with it.

Jenifer had time to recover while Neal drove around to check on the other students. By the time he came back, the headquarters was buzzing with supporters of the Senator. Neal found his favorite student in a corner, not surprisingly, studying her notes and taking in the burgeoning excitement. She smiled as he approached.

"Everything seems under control with the others," Neal told Jenifer. "I think I'm safe to stay here until we have to pick up Carly and get you guys home."

"Good," Jenifer said. "I've been working on my questions."

She showed him a page full of writing, none of which he was overly interested in reading. He would be the judge of her progress when it came to crunch time. For now, he was just glad to be back beside her, looking into her incredible eyes.

Tension in the room grew as the polls closed and results began to trickle in. Every half hour produced another ten percent of the precincts and an additional two percent lead for the incumbent Senator. Things were looking good and roars rose from the crowd each time the TVs showed the results. By nine PM the lead was approaching fifteen percentage points, and Neal told Jenifer it was all but over.

Sure enough, just before ten PM, a TV station declared Senator Smith the winner and Jenifer thought she had been transported to a football game with the amount, and volume, of cheering that occurred.

"He'll be here in less than half an hour," Neal shouted over the roar. "We'll try to catch him after his speech. Joe knows we want to see him and I think he likes you, so we should be good to go."

Jenifer grinned her approval. Her nervousness returned, this time not because of Neal. It was all a blur after that. The Senator arrived and spoke amid the glow of TV lights, balloons, and confetti. Each time he mentioned a topic that was in her list of questions, she underlined it. Those were the ones she'd try to ask. Then he was out in the crowd shaking hands and doing TV interviews. Neal and Jenifer were behind the podium, waiting for what they hoped would be a semi-private moment with him.

Then it happened. In the dimming chaos of the evening, Jenifer was shaking hands with Senator Smith. Neal finished the introductions, and the moment belonged to Jenifer. To his credit, the Senator was gracious and polite, allowing the student to ask him three questions before he was dragged away by a staff member.

When it was over, a proud professor and his unnerved student retreated to the secluded office for a debrief. Neal surreptitiously pushed the lock on the door as he closed it. Jenifer exhaled loudly and sat on the corner of a desk, waiting for her pulse rate to return to near normal.

"Not a bad start," Neal said, having trouble keeping his eyes off the girl's body stretched out in front of him.

"I wasn't sure I could even speak," she admitted. "I'm sure I was awful."

Neal walked over to her. "You're a college sophomore taking one of your first classes in this stuff. You did great."

Both of his hands were on the sides of her shoulders. Without thinking, he massaged her upper arms gently.

Jenifer was so comforted by his touch, and so relieved that the interview was over, that she impulsively reached out for him. Neal came closer and let Jenifer wrap her arms around him.

"Thank you so much, Professor Longosch," she said in a near whisper.

He hugged her in return and patted her on the back, feeling her bra under his fingers. Her head was on his chest and he could smell her hair. Their legs were intermingled in an awkward posture, but neither one immediately let go.

Purely by accident, Jenifer's knee touched Neal's cock, and she instantly recognized his semi-erect state.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I...I...," she mumbled.

"It's OK Jenifer. I'm glad you had fun tonight. I hope you learned something."

"I did. Thank you," she said. After a long pause, she looked up and asked, "Did I really do OK?"

Neal moved back just enough to look her in the face. "You have great potential, Jenifer."

"Don't say that if you don't mean it," she replied.

Neal ran his hand down the side of her face. "I mean it. And you'll have lots of opportunity to prove it."

They stared at each other for what seemed an eternity. Neither one moved, but they both knew what was coming. It was only a question of who would initiate it. Jenifer slid off the table, her body flat against Neal's. He tilted his head down and put his lips on hers.

It was barely a kiss at first, but then he forced his tongue between her lips. Jenifer moaned her disapproval and put her hands on his chest. Neal intensified the kiss and she pushed harder. He grabbed her arms and pulled her to him, feeling her stomach ram against his rock hard cock.

Then, suddenly, Jenifer was returning the kiss while seeming to continually struggle against him. The friction of their bodies only made Neal harder and Jenifer felt it. Her hands rose to his head and she began frantically running her fingers through his hair. Neal reach around to the back of her skirt.

"No, no," Jenifer moaned.

"Then stop kissing me," Neal answered.

"I don't want to...no, stop."

He was pulling on the material of her skirt, raising it up the back of her thighs.

"I think you do," Neal said.

They kissed and Neal had her pushed back against the desk.

"Don't you feel what you do to me, Jenifer? Let me touch you."

She muttered her denial through another long kiss.

His hand was inside the skirt, on the outside of her leg. Quickly, he moved it around and onto the inside of her thigh, very near her panties. She squirmed, but couldn't move away. His fingers found the bottom of her panties and followed the lining up, onto her pussy.

"Stop," she mewed softly. "Please."

Neal's face moved down to the top of her shirt. He kissed and licked as far as he could until the top prevented him from getting to her breasts. His hand was directly on top of her pussy, feeling her through the panties. Neal whispered, "You're wet, Jenifer."

She shook her head, nearly in tears and desperate for him to touch her. He did just that, rubbing her clit with the soft, wet fabric of her panties.

Jenifer's entire body stiffened and she realized that if he continued she would orgasm--soon.

"Admit that you want this. Tell me you want to cum."

She could only shake her head as his hand slid down the inside of her panties and onto the swollen clit. Jenifer nearly screamed out.

Then...a knock on the door.

The couple nearly fell over in their abrupt attempt to stand and look normal. Jenifer adjusted her skirt as Neal walked to the door. He opened it a crack and looked into the face of a staff member, who quickly apologized for the interruption, and walked away.

"We should go," Neal said calmly.

In a dazed, confused state of mind, Jenifer followed her professor. The ride home was eerily quiet, except for Carly's recalling of her assignment. Neal and Jenifer listened politely, not paying attention to a word she said.

That night, Jenifer laid in bed recounting the entire episode in the office. She questioned every emotion she felt, especially the undeniable lust when Neal's hand was on her pussy. She'd successfully fought off the urge to grab his cock, but the desire to have him make her cum was indisputable. She was angry with herself for so many things.

Neal also thought about it: the creamy softness of her legs; her panties; her hard clit; the scent and texture of the skin around her breasts. Why hadn't she touched him? What would have happened if she had?

Their next opportunity to be alone came a week later when Jenifer was due in the professor's office for the bi-weekly meeting he held with each student to review their progress. This time Jenifer was in her more customary jeans and t-shirt. Granted, she purposely wore the most revealing t-shirt she owned, but not with the intention of causing a repeat of the office scene.

At the appointed hour, she softly knocked on the professor's office door and was welcomed in as normal. She sat in a chair in front of his desk, crossing her legs casually, and the discussion began. If a visitor had been in with them, the person wouldn't have had a clue what took place on election night. The professor and student were business-like and dispassionate.

Until Neal walked out from behind his desk and stood behind Jenifer.

He put his hands on her shoulders and said, "Jenifer, if you could interview any politician, who would it be?"

She tried to keep her body from completely tensing up. "The President?"

"Besides him."

He was giving her a rubdown like he did before, concentrating on the muscles behind her shoulders and neck.

"Well, OK. The governor."

Neal paused before saying, "And if I can make it happen?"

"I'd be very grateful," she said quietly.

Neal's hands moved around her neck and then inched downward, always staying on her skin along the edge of her t-shirt.

"Perhaps we can make a wager," he said.

He could feel the gentle rise of her breasts as his fingers started to disappear under the shirt. Jenifer sat motionless, looking down at the hands without actually bending her neck. They covered the top halves of her breasts now, finally coming in contact with her bra.

"A wager?" she asked.

Neal spread his fingers and let them rest gently on her flesh.

"Yes," he said. "If I can get you in for an interview with the governor..."

His fingers were inside the bra, searching out her nipples. When he found them, he continued.

"...you will owe me a picture of you topless."

He paused for effect.

"I'll take the picture...in here."

Neal squeezed the nipples sharply and Jenifer gasped as she nearly jumped off the seat. Once the shock had passed, she tried to calm down.

"And if you can't?" she asked.

"Then it's your choice."

Her breathing was becoming erratic as the surges of pleasure flowed down to her pussy. She squirmed in the chair.

"That would be an awesome experience," she said in an unsteady voice.

"Losing the bet? Or winning?"

She let out a long, deep breath when Neal pulled his hands off her nipples and back onto the top of her breasts.

"I win either way, don't I?"

He gripped her breasts more firmly. "Yes, you do."

Walking back to her dorm, Jenifer knew the professor's contacts almost certainly included somebody in the governor's office. Yet, she wondered if Neal hadn't set her up to force her to make a choice if she won the bet. By the time she was entering her room, her pussy was drenched from all the possibilities she had considered.

Neal sat behind his desk, leisurely stroking his erection through his pants while he considered his options: call his good friend Rick at the governor's office and set up the interview, or tell Jenifer he couldn't pull it off. He contemplated what the bashful young woman would choose and quickly decided he wouldn't risk it. He picked up the phone.

The next morning, Jenifer awoke to a short text message from her professor: 'You lose.'

'Damn. Damn. Damn!' she muttered under her breath. Still, her heart pounded with exhilaration at the consequences of her 'loss', the least of which was a face-to-face with the governor.

Neal contacted Jenifer that same day and outlined the agenda for the meeting at the statehouse. She was certain she could hear his glee even in the e-mails and text messages. Was he as hard now as he was in the headquarters office? Or in his office when he came out from behind her chair? She asked herself if she had the courage to even touch him during the upcoming photo session.