The Horny Professor's Hall Pass

Did sex evolve solely for procreation or to create intimacy between partners? That intellectual debate leads two rather staid college professors to walk on the wild side when Virginia lusts after a sexy trucker—and Roger learns that indulging in fantasies can have devastating results! Will his marriage ever be the same again?

~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~

“You’re scared,” Virginia seemed surprised. “What do you think he’ll do to me?”

“I can only think the worse.”

“Catastrophic thinking.”

“This is your diagnosis? Nine years of undergrad, graduate school, post-grad, and I have catastrophic thinking because you’re going to be the sex … I don’t know what. Of a guy capable of replacing your brain with pleasurable satisfaction?”

“Replaces my brain…” Virginia couldn’t continue through her laughter. “…my brain with…Pleasure! Why wouldn’t I want that?”

Damn, her mirth was catchy. I tried not to laugh along with her. “I’m serious. James takes away your ability to think clearly; all you can do is beg him to use you and promise to do anything he asks. ‘Walk down this street naked and tell that woman you want to do her.’ ‘Yes, James, of course, because then you’ll pleasure me.’”

My wife was laughing so hard I thought she might hurt herself. “Stop, Roger, please, you’re killing me.”

“Seriously, we need a way for you to contact me if you’re in trouble,” I said, sober now.

“If it makes you feel better, what do you suggest?”

“Roger, if I pick up the phone or receive a text, and it only says ‘Roger,’ I’ll know you’re in trouble.”

“What if I don’t have a phone?”

“Collect from a pay phone, if you can find one. Are there still telegrams? I don’t know, but that’s your safe word.”

“Roger,” she said. “What if I forget it?”

“Oh for…” But she was laughing again.

James picked her up in his truck. An immense eighteen-wheeler with a sleeper cab pulled up in front of the house, and my wife ran out to greet him. She carried a small bag holding the few things she’d need for the ten days he could do anything he liked with her.

I stood next to him as Virginia leaped into his arms. Our neighbor watched open-mouthed, his gaze shifting from my wife’s passionate kiss with another man to me. I smiled and waved, and he half-heartedly waved back, too polite to ask the obvious question.

“Guys,” I said, breaking in. “The neighbors are staring.”

“Is old Oliver getting excited?” Virginia asked.

“No, but I am,” Virginia smiled at James.

“So is James,” and she moved her hips as if to show me exactly where his excitement could be found. “We’ll leave before he does me right here in front of our house.”

James helped my wife up to the truck's cab using both hands, and with a roar, the beast inched down our tree-lined street. I watched it go, taking my life with it, and felt alone and afraid.