I have a little bit of wisdom that I'd like to share. If you find yourself with the opportunity to become an expert on forgotten languages, skip it. You will spend the rest of your days locked in dusty rooms full of artifacts that you don't dare touch. You will spend more time trying to convince someone to pay for your expertise than you will spend using that knowledge.

I don't suppose that bit of wisdom will help most of you. The one and only time in my life that I had the opportunity to pass it along and have it matter, I couldn't do so. My alma mater offered me way too much money to pass my knowledge along to some up-and-coming expert. The practicality of money is much more important than dashing some student's dreams, so I was heading back to school.

I was in a remote location that I would prefer not to disclose when they contacted me. I quickly agreed, and then let them make the second half of my travel plans for me. I was annoyed, but not surprised, when I saw that they had broken the trip into several flights.

By the time I got to Frankfurt, Germany, I was in a foul mood. I used to be an easy-go-lucky traveler, but when you are an American citizen and you are traveling in places like Egypt or Syria or Serbia, the attention you have to give to everything around you will wear on your nerves. I was a bit frazzled by the time I got to civilization again.

An email that I got in Frankfurt didn't help. I received the resume of the young man I was going to be teaching. His name was Tommy Argent, and as I read his credentials, all I could think was that I was looking at my replacement. If he was as good as the image he portrayed, he would pick my brain, and then steal any future jobs that might have come my way. It was a rather unpleasant thought.

As I sat in the Frankfurt airport, I knew that I needed to change my mood, or else the trip home was going to be miserable. At the thought of going home, I started imagining all the things I had been missing for the last ten months.

Pizza was high on the list. I wondered if I could accidentally head through Chicago to get a slice of deep dish heaven. Of course, chocolate chip cookies, fresh from the oven, were next on the list. The thought of the warm cookies with ice cold milk was making my mouth water.

Of course, Germany isn't really known for its milk. I could probably have found a good German beer right there at the airport, but if I was going to go that route, I wanted a tasty micro-brew with authentic Tex-Mex cuisine. What I wouldn't give for tasty, hot food, crisp cold beer, and a warm-hearted woman. Anything would be better than the over-spiced food, warm beer, and bitter women that had surrounded me for all those months.

At the thought of women, my eyes got distracted.

A tall, leggy blonde walked in front of me, and I couldn't stop my eyes from following her. I watched as she badgered the gate agent, and then I looked away. Everything about that woman screamed 'High Maintenance'.

My eyes found a pleasantly plump woman nearby. She was probably German or Polish, and she had an angular beauty about her. She turned and spoke to a child nearby, and I could sense her robust, no-nonsense nature. I think I felt sorry for her husband.

A younger woman attracted my attention. She had an honest mid-western American face. Everything about her read 'mid-western college girl on holiday', except for the fact that she was at least thirty years old. You could see her college attitude in the jaunty way she carried her backpack and in the preppy clothes she wore.

At thirty, she was probably old enough to know better, but she was a bit young compared to my fifty years. I wondered if her mother had aged well. If her mother was built like she was, I would totally delight in discovering the heft of her breasts, or the feel of her tush as she sat on top of me.

I must have been more tired than I thought I was. Without realizing it, I stared at the young woman for far too long. She gave me an angry glare. I smiled an apology, and then looked away. I felt her eyes on me for a bit, and I'm certain she glared at me several more times before it was time to board the plane.

She joined the boarding line at the same time I did, and she fixed me with a look as she came to stand next to me.

"Miss, I apologize for staring," I offered. "It was a long trip to get here, and I've a long ways to go, and I guess I spaced out. All I can offer is my deepest apology."

"You weren't in Denver last December, were you?" she accused.

"No, I'm sorry, I wasn't," I answered in an apologetic tone. "I've been abroad for almost a year."

Her frown remained.

"Well, it was very impolite," she grumbled.

She wasn't going to accept my apology, and I felt I had done all I should.

"Duly noted," I said coolly.

She nodded, and we headed toward the front of the cue in silence. I tried to defer and let her go through first, but she insisted that I go first. We boarded the plane, and I figured that would be the last I saw of her.

The international flight was aboard a Boeing 777. We were both flying economy class, but she was in the section ahead of the one I was in. The flight from Frankfurt to Atlanta was far too long, and I tried to sleep through most of it.

I tried not to laugh when I saw her again in the Customs line in Atlanta. She glared at me, and I smiled another apology. We were far enough apart that I didn't have to talk to her again. Somehow, the line she was in practically flew, and she cleared Customs long before I did. I was more than a little anxious by the time I got through, because I had another flight to catch.

I barely made it to the flight to Dallas. That's a bit of an exaggeration. I probably had ten minutes to spare, but I was one of the last to board the plane. It was a smaller MD80, and I had a window seat in the last row.

Our eyes met when I was still a few rows away. I couldn't believe she was on this flight as well. The look on her face was not a glare as much as it was a challenge. She was seated in the middle seat next to mine.

The person in the aisle seat stood and moved into the small space at the back of the plane. The young woman stood as well to let me by. I expected her to step to the back, but for some reason, she stepped forward for me to go around. We ended up colliding, and I had to catch her to help keep her from being knocked down. My imagination pretended that she leaned into me before she stepped away.

"I'm sorry," I apologized again. "I expected you to step to the back."

"Oh, there's more room back there than I thought," she answered with an embarrassed shrug.

No more words were spoken until I arranged my stuff and we found our seats. Our seatmate at the aisle immediately pulled on headphones and a padded blindfold. I thought that more sleep would be a good thing for me as well. I wasn't so sure I was going to get any when the young woman turned to speak to me and she touched my arm.

"Well, Professor, you gave me quite a scare," she said in a pleasant tone.

"Have me met?" I asked with a confused look.

"I don't believe we have," she smiled, "which is why I was worried when you appeared to recognize me in Frankfurt."

"Should I have recognized you?" I asked. I was still confused. "You called me 'Professor' with a tone that suggests that you know of my academic background."

"In my line of work, being recognized is a bad thing," she answered. With another apologetic shrug, she said, "You had me worried, so I had a friend check you out."

"Professor Mark Garmin," she said in a tone that suggested she was reading from a file. "Divorced, two daughters in their early twenties, Professor Emeritus with strong credentials, expert in forgotten languages, no current address, mail delivery address on file."

"I prefer to drop the honorific," I suggested. "I've never actually taught classes. Do I get to know anything about you?"

"I like calling you 'Professor'," she said with a flirting smile. "You remind me of a professor that tried to seduce me into having an affair when I was in school." Her eyes made a flirtatious dip. "I've always regretted turning him down." The flirtatiousness faded and she gave me an honest smile. "My name is Tammy, and I have the same destination as you."

"San Antonio?" I asked in surprise.

"The college," she said with a grin. "My supervisor wants me to get some cross-training that he thinks will help me with my job. I wasn't given any details, but I think it’s in some new computer programming language."

I struggled unsuccessfully to hide a yawn as she answered.

"Can you tell me what you do, or is that a secret?" I asked to cover my tiredness.

She shrugged, and then answered, "Cryptography." After a slight pause, she said, "Your itinerary says you've been traveling for quite a while. Did you get any sleep?"

I wouldn't have yawned again if she hadn't asked. I covered my mouth and then smiled an apology when the yawn ended.

"I've been traveling for over thirty hours," I answered. She probably already knew that. She also knew we had a few hours to go before I could find a hotel to crash. "I did get a few hours sleep on the last plane."

"I should let you sleep, then," she suggested. "We can chat some more on the next flight," she said with a winning smile.

I returned her smile, leaned my head against the window, and then fell asleep as soon as my eyes closed.

A loud clunk woke me with a start. I relaxed and took a deep breath as I realized it had been the sound of the landing gear releasing to lower. My eyes slowly opened as I let the breath out. I tried not to jump too much as I became aware of Tammy.

The armrest was no longer between us. She was mostly asleep with her body leaning against mine. She had one arm wrapped around my arm, and her head was resting on my shoulder. Luckily, she had covered herself with a blanket, and it was partially covering me. 'Luckily', because her other hand was slowly stroking the front of my pants and taking measure of the hardness it had created there.

My startled breath seemed to wake her. She took a deep breath that caught and froze when she realized what she was doing. When our eyes met, she blushed furiously and bit her lips.

"We're about to land," I suggested quietly.

"Thank you, Professor," she drawled as she gave my cock a gentle squeeze.

I shook my head with a sad smile. She was too young for me to take her pleasant demand seriously, and besides, I had all but told her not to call me that. She pouted for a half a moment, and it took every bit of my willpower to keep from tasting her lips. She smiled because she knew she had won that round, but she sensually moved back into her own seat.

We managed our trip through the Dallas airport together. It has a confusing mess of trams and corridors that are hard to navigate as you try to find the gates for the smaller airlines. We had just enough time to stop and use the facilities, and I splashed some water on my face to wake up.

The aircraft from Dallas to San Antonio was a full sized 737, even though the flight was ridiculously short. They don't even bother with drinks, because as soon as the plane reaches altitude, it is time to descend to land. We were seated in different sections of the aircraft, but Tammy took our passes to the gate agent and fixed that.

We ended up together on the side with two seats near the back of the plane. Due to the short duration of the flight, I hadn't planned on sleeping. Tammy had the same idea. We chatted about nothing in particular, but she waited until we were airborne before she addressed the subject of the seating change.

"I hope you don't mind that I wanted to sit beside you, Professor," she said, "but I have a very forward question that I'd like to ask you, and I didn't think I should be yelling it for the whole plane to hear."

"You could just call me Mark," I suggested. Her eyes laughed at me, but she ignored the request.

She pulled out her boarding passes from our three flights. As she held them up, I noticed how easily the names could be read. That explained to me how she had gotten my name. I also noticed that none of the names on hers were 'Tammy'. They were all different.

"For the same reasons that I did this," she said, indicating the names, "I have yet to make any arrangements for a car or a room." She leaned her body into mine as her hand gripped my thigh. "Professor, for the last six months I have been working with a bunch of misogynistic assholes. I loathed sharing air with them, much less anything else. Will you let me fulfill an old fantasy and spend the night with you? I promise to let you eventually get some sleep."

"That depends on one simple thing," I suggested.

"Yes?" she begged as she frowned into a pout.

Her lips tasted like cold beer, hot Tex-Mex cuisine and lustful women.

"Stop calling me 'Professor'," I added as an afterthought.

She smiled before she kissed me again. The name was part of her fantasy, and her kiss informed me that I was stuck with it.

I was ready to try our luck at not getting caught in taking things further, but the pilot was already calling to prepare for landing, so we held hands and practiced patience.

I had been traveling close to forty hours with very little sleep. It felt like it took even longer than that to get our luggage and the rental car. It felt like I was driving five miles-per-hour the whole way to the hotel by the college. It took days for the hotel clerk to give us the room keys.

As soon as the door closed, Tammy gently pushed into my arms and gave me a tender kiss. Much sooner than I thought she should, she pushed away with an embarrassed look.

"I don't want this to sound mean," she said softly, "but would you please take a shower?"

I laughed and then leaned my nose near her armpit to take an exaggeratedly deep breath.

"Well I can't smell as bad as you do," I teased. "You need a shower, too."

She playfully tried to punch me, but I caught her arm and pulled her close for another quick kiss. She laughed when I pulled her hands to my clothes, but then she got breathless as I started pulling off her clothes.

In moments, we were both naked. We had to wait a moment for the shower to warm up, and I took the opportunity to let my eyes and hands explore her body.

The youthful softness and curves of her body were breathtaking. I thought I'd never get to experience that delight again. Her breasts were even bigger than I thought they would be, probably full 'D' cups. She was embarrassed and tried to hide that she hadn't recently shaved her armpits. I shrugged it off, but made her promise not to shave between her legs. She was neatly trimmed, and it felt really good to run my fingers through that hair to tease her lower lips.

Her eyes and hands made the same inspection of my body. I am not made of big muscles, but a lack of palatable food had stripped away most of my body fat. I do work out, and she was enjoying running her fingers over my abs and stomach. She grabbed a handful of pubic hair and, with a gentle tug, she made me promise to do some trimming. The extra hair didn't stop her from stroking the length of my shaft.

We stepped in under the running water, and no words were spoken as we shared the water and applied soap to each other's body. I'm not sure how she did it, but she managed to get soap on every bit of my skin without ever letting go of my cock. I was tempted to reciprocate with my fingers inside her, but there were just too many curves and soft spots on her body for me to explore, and I had to use both hands.

Her eyes rarely left mine as we worked to get clean. For the most part, she seemed to be intensely watching my eyes enjoy her body. As the soap rinsed away from our bodies, her eyes made an urgent demand. I could only smile in anticipation as she leaned her body into mine and lifted her leg onto my hip.

As I caught her leg to pull her close, I leaned down to kiss her. She pressed her lips up to mine, but at the same time, she changed her grip on my cock. Suddenly, I was pushing inside of her, and then her lips stole my breath away.

Hours and days of need poured out of each of us to fill the other, and even though we kept our thrusting under control to avoid a fall, we raced towards a quick finish. She ended the kiss by biting my lower lip, and then her body tightened up all around mine. I grabbed her ass with both hands and pulled her tight as I filled her over and over.

Slowly, our bodies drifted apart, and we started kissing again. She milked my shrinking cock as she turned us each into the spray to rinse us clean. When she was satisfied, she turned off the water, and we stepped out.

We barely took time to dry ourselves. As soon as most of the water had been toweled away, she pushed me all the way to the bed. With a final kiss, she pushed me to sit on the bed as she dropped to her knees in front of me.

"Please, Professor, you have to believe me," she said in a school girl's voice. She started stroking my cock with her thumb and her tongue as she continued. "I know the material for the test. I was only late because my car broke down." As my cock started to harden, she started using her lips to draw it up more. "If I don't get a good grade, I'll lose my scholarship. Please, Professor, I'll do anything to bring that grade... up."

"I don't know, Miss Connors," I dithered. The name came from one of her boarding passes, but that didn't seem to matter to her. "You've never impressed me as the kind of student that would push hard for grades. You seem to be more wrapped up in sports and clothes and your social life."

"Oh, Professor, let me show you how wrapped up I am in getting a good grade," she flirted. She jumped closer and pressed her breasts around my shaft. "I'm ready to try as hard as you like!" she cried out as my cock surged to full hardness for her. I barely needed to move my hips to match her motions as she teased my cock with her breasts.

"It does look like you've studied hard, Ms. Connors," I said agreeably, "but how deep did you study the material?"

"Oh, Professor," she moaned as she jumped up and rolled onto the bed. "I'm ready to show you how hard and deep I studied, all night long!"

I wasn't so sure I could go all night long, but I was ready to give her a hard and deep lesson. She groaned in pleasure as I plunged inside her, and she wrapped her legs around my body to spur me on. In no time at all, she was cumming for me.

"Ms. Connors, I doubt that you've mastered the material already," I teased. She was cumming too hard to answer. "Maybe I should cross-examine you from a different angle," I suggested.

Without waiting for a reply, I pressed up onto my knees and pulled her body half onto mine. Her eyes bugged out as my cock started dragging across her g-spot, and she made a huge, wet mess as she came again. She pulled me back down, and as my strokes lengthened, she came yet again. Her hungry kiss pulled me over the edge, and I happily filled her with all that I had.

I don't remember falling asleep, but I vaguely remember her leaving and then returning with a warm, wet cloth. I had to have had a huge smile on my face when she curled up next to me.

My internal alarm clock woke me when it thought it was noon. Tammy gave my hard cock a gentle stroke, and she was smiling at me when my eyes opened. I gave the real clock a quick glance as I took another deep breath to wake up.

"Good morning," I offered with a smile. "My internal clock is at least six hours ahead of that one."

"Good morning, Professor," she said in return. "We should have tried harder to stay up later last night. I got the best eight hours of sleep that I've had in months, thanks to you." She gave me a naughty grin as she stroked my cock again. "It looks like I've gotten you harder. If you promise to stay up longer than we did last night, I'm ready to give you six hours of a-head."

"Miss Connors, are you sure you are ready for a double oral exam?" I teased as I slid my hand down between her legs.

"Arden," she answered breathily as she started to turn her body over mine. "If we're going to keep having sex, you should at least know my real name, right?"

I wasn't able to answer. She swallowed my cock and at the same time pressed her pussy down on my face, and we were both too busy using our tongues for more pleasurable pastimes than talk.

A bit of a game ensued. We each took turns pushing the other to distraction with pleasure. She deep-throated my cock until I was unable to concentrate on licking her. When she pulled back to breathe, I attacked and made her body quiver so much that she couldn't lick me. It was a game that neither one of us would lose, and we both expected to be winners. We ended up passing the exam together, and then we gently licked each other clean as we caught our breath.

Tammy slowly turned and crawled back up into my arms. Holding her was far too comfortable, and I drifted off to sleep again.

It felt like only a couple of minutes passed before the alarm on my phone started chirping. We both woke up and made our way to the shower. It didn't take long to let the water finish the wake-up process, and, while we did enjoy some fondling and kissing, we didn't take things any further.

By nine thirty, we were both on our way out the door. I had a morning meeting with my potential landlord, and then an afternoon meeting with my new student. Tammy needed to check in with her supervisor to see what her schedule was going to be. We agreed to meet back at the hotel late in the afternoon. I had the room for a second night, so we both were anticipating another lustful tryst.

===

Late in the afternoon, I was sitting in my office that the college had provided for me. I hadn't expected that, and it was kind of nice to have a place to call my own. I tried not to laugh every time I saw the plaque by the door that read "Professor Mark Gamin, Language Antiquities".

The college had also provided me with a secretary. That wasn't her title, but that was her job. She served several short-term instructors that had offices next to mine. She tapped on my door with an apologetic look and stepped in.

"Profess... uh... Sir?" she begged.

She blushed as she struggled to remember that I had asked her not to call me 'professor'. I would have asked her not to blush if I thought she could stop it. She was only a few years younger than I was, and her frumpy 'unsatisfied housewife' appearance was rather appealing. She was exactly the kind of woman I would have been looking for if I hadn't met Tammy. The fact that we were co-workers would have made an affair dangerous to pursue.

"What's up, Madeline?" I asked pleasantly.

"Just 'Maddy', sir," she reminded me. "Sir, there's been a big mistake made, and I'm afraid to say that it was all my fault."

I tried not to look anxious as I imagined my paycheck evaporating.

"Go on," I suggested plainly.

Her eyes started to tear up. I tried not to smile as my mind suggested a fantasy. It wanted me to race to hug her, to tell her everything would be okay, to use that closeness to seduce her. I concentrated on listening to her.

"I was a little distraught when the Dean sent me the email asking to arrange for you to be here," she said. The tears in her eyes threatened to spill out. "He wouldn't have understood, but my cat had just died, and I probably should have stayed home."

I gave her a sympathetic look.

"Cats are family," I suggested. "It was brave of you to be here."

She gave me a sad smile as she tried to wipe away her tears.

"You understand," she said in a relieved tone. She wiped her eyes with a sniffle. "Well, I misread the name of the student, you see. Tom-tom was a favorite among the staff, and he was such a whiz at languages, and it only made sense that he would be coming back for advanced studies."

I tried not to breathe a sigh of relief. As long as there was a student, my paycheck was safe.

"So, no Tommy Argent, then," I stated. "Does my student have a name? Does he have any qualifications?"

Madeline looked flustered.

"She," she stated. "Her name is Tammy Arden. She is some kind of military expert. They won't tell us what her qualifications are, and she's already been causing trouble."

It took every bit of willpower to keep a straight face. My heart was racing at extreme speeds.

"Please, Profess... uh, Sir," Madeline continued. "The Dean has already accepted the new terms that Ms. Arden is demanding, and he made it very clear that my job was on the line if I don’t get you to accept as well. I'll bring you breakfast and coffee and lunch and anything else if you will accept so I can keep my job!"

I had to tell my imagination to shut up so I could pay attention.

"So what are they demanding, and what are they offering?" I asked cautiously.

Madeline swallowed. She wasn't sure I was going to like the terms.

"She insisted it would take six weeks to master the material, even if she worked under you night and day," she said in a worried tone. "They are offering four times the pay that you would have received for the two-week session."

"I suppose I will have to meet with her then," I conceded. "Can you find out when she is available? The sooner I meet with her, the sooner I can give a final answer."

A look of hope filled her face.

"She suggested the same thing, Profess... uh, Sir," she beamed. "She's in the waiting room right now."

"That's convenient," I allowed. "Why don't you go ahead and send her in, Madeline."

"Maddy," she reminded me with a smile that was almost flirtatious. My imagination demanded to know what else she might offer to save her job. Thankfully, she quickly turned and left.

The smile that had touched Madeline's face was nothing compared to the smile on Tammy's face as she strutted into the room. I barely had time to stand up before she squared herself to the opposite side of the desk. She had a fairly thick book in her hand that she dropped onto the desk. She had given it the perfect amount of spin for it to slide right-side-up in front of me.

"Pattern Recognition Techniques for Decoding Coptic and Akkadian Scrolls," she read aloud. She didn't have to read the name that was printed at the bottom. "Did you actually write that, or did you pay someone for the research?" she asked. Her tone was only slightly sarcastic.

"I'm sure it won't take six weeks of working under me night and day for you to realize that it is all my own work," I suggested.

Her smile broadened as she started to move around the desk.

"You understand that I'll be under you, even when I'm riding on top, or when we're playing side-by-side," she suggested.

She grabbed my tie, and used it as a leash to push me down into my chair.

"My boss spent an hour ranting and raving about that book," she said as she leaned her body into mine. Her lips moved dangerously close to mine, but she didn't kiss me. "He insists there are at least ten examples of brilliant intuitive deduction in the first chapter alone," she added.

Her words seemed clear enough, but I was having trouble concentrating because of the seductive tones she used as she spoke. I was also very distracted by the way her body slid down mine, taking her lips away from mine, but leaving her on the floor between my knees.

"He couldn't believe it when I asked for more time to work with you," she flirted. "I don't understand a single bit of the languages you describe, but your descriptions could be applied to cryptanalysis, and I need to learn your methodology."

I think she wanted something, and I was going to give her anything she asked for. Her lips slid down and hovered tantalizingly close to the bulge in my pants. She stared at my hardness for a moment, and then let her seductive eyes slide up to conquer me.

"You'll accept the longer session, and the pay, won't you?" she asked in a tone that nearly made me cum.

My answer was forestalled by the arrival of Madeline. She walked right in without knocking, and she didn't even look up from the papers she was carrying until she was halfway to my desk.

"Profess... uh, Sir, you'll need to read this letter from the Dean before you decline their... Oh!"

Her eyes got big as she stared at Tammy. Tammy gave Madeline a wicked smile, and then turned her head to rest in my lap. Their eyes stayed locked together as she rubbed her cheekbone against my very evident hardness. Madeline blushed darkly. Tammy lifted her head again.

"I believe he is going to accept," she said, her tone as flirtatious as ever. "Would you like to help me ensure that we get the answer we want?" she teased.

Madeline's eyes raced to mine to beg. I couldn't tell what she was begging for, but my eyes promised I was willing. She gasped, turned a frightened look at Tammy, and then raced out of the room.

"You know, Profess-ah-sir," Tammy said, making fun of Madeline's words, "I think college is going to be a lot more fun this time around."