“Missy!” Jeffery said as he opened the door.“So do you know what the fuck is going on?” Missy asked.“Uhh, no, just…Mom was at your house.�...� “I know.” Missy pushed past Jeffery and stormed up the stairs. She knew exactly where Jeffery’s room was. No one would see her if she wasn’t downstairs and she had to have some time to think.“So what’s going on?” Jeffery asked.“I don’t know. I guess they are talking about us.”“I don’t think so.” Jeffery said.“What?” Missy asked sharply.“Well your Dad was. ."Bri stood and took her laptop from her desk. She came back and satright next to Brenda. She brought up a picture."This is Casey. A young man who came in saying that he didn'tunderstand women. He had everything going for him except he couldn'tstay in a serious relationship with a girl because he couldn'tunderstand them."Brenda looked at the picture."You know this person, Brenda. You know her as Cassie, ourreceptionist. We helped Casey understand women and he realized that his'problem'. He'd even stop for a few seconds (I could feel his saliva on my cock starting to cool), and then he go back to sucking it like it might be the last cock he'd ever have; and in spite of the makeshift ambiance of his garage glory hole (and the aroma of motorcycle engines, grease, and gasoline), the hour drive there had been well worth it in my books!Dean was deliberately teasing me. I could tell, and yet we both enjoyed the exhilaration of it; and I knew that when I did finally come, it would. So we did things together. We visited museums; we went to concerts and visited the honky-tonk bars on Broadway Street in downtown Nashville to listen to country western and jazz music. We attended several sporting events; as a ‘faculty’ member at Vanderbilt I could easily get tickets to watch their first-class baseball team.And it was at a Nashville Predators hockey game that I discovered a raging hockey fan sitting with me. Who would have thought that my petit and demure PhD. candidate could.