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Chapter 3 concluded with Will trying to watch a basketball game and Gwen bouncing up and down on him instead.
Monday morning arrived all too early. I stretched and groaned and tried to move a few more muscles and each effort resulted in a few more groans.
Eventually I realized that the little Princess was watching me with a wide grin on her face.
Her first words were, “Is the poor Old Man stiff and sore this morning?”
“Yes, he is,” was my response.
Laughing delightedly, Gwen said, “Poor Old Man,” and with that she buried herself under the covers and I felt her clutch my cock. From deep under the covers I heard her muffled voice, “I’m checking to see if Ivan is in working order.”
I would know the feel of that warm, wet mouth anywhere and, in short order, I felt Ivan expanding. I felt Gwen release Ivan and come out from under the covers to announce, “All is well. Ivan is in functioning condition.”
“That’s a miracle,” I responded, “given the pounding you gave him, and me, last night. Do we need a new couch?”
“If we do need a new couch it’s because you become so animated watching basketball. I certainly did nothing to interrupt your silly basketball game.” With that pronouncement, the little vixen batted her eyes at me.
“Well then, why is it I have the very definite recall of a little Princess bouncing up and down on my cock and gloating about my still letting her getting away with murder? That, Princess, occurred last night on the couch.”
Gwen adopted a very concerned look and said, “Oh dear! You’re so confused Old Man. This happens with age. We’ll call the doctor today and you’ll have a nice examination and get some medicine and you’ll feel a lot better very soon.”
I simply looked at Gwen for a moment and then asked, “When was the last time you were put over someone’s knee and really spanked.”
Ha! It doesn’t matter when it was because you are not going to spank me.”
“Oh and why am I not going to spank you?”
“You’re not going to spank me because I’ll bat my eyes at you and ask you nicely not to spank me and you’ll start laughing and that will be the end of that.”
To my considerable consternation, I started laughing and Gwen stuck out her tongue at me.
Then she said, “Lay down, Old Man, and let me get on you.”
We got into our usual serious conversation position with me on my back and Gwen lying on top of me.
“What is it, Princess?” I asked.
“I think, Will, you’re going to get a call, if not today, tomorrow at the latest, about being the acting chair position in my department.”
“Uh huh,” I noted.
“I’m not sure you should take it, Will.”
“Please share with me why you think that.”
“There are eleven of us, Will. You work very well alone or as the head of a small project. I’ve noticed, people simply wear you out. You’re energized by solitude or near solitude whereas with groups of people you become drained quickly. We have some tough characters in the department who are combative, and while you can handle them pretty easily, it will consume a lot of energy that you would otherwise use more productively.”
“OK, that’s a perceptive comment, Princess.”
“So, I’m not sure being the acting chair is the best fit for you,” was Gwen’s conclusion.
“What would you say if I suggested that I won’t be dealing with eleven people, but with two at most?”
“Oh, that’s interesting. How did you get to that idea?”
I said, “There’s no way I can make any progress trying to herd cats which is what a collection of faculty is. But, if the faculty themselves take ownership of the project to define the department, this might work.”
I continued, “I’ll outline to everyone what I want done by a given date and instruct everyone to figure out how to tackle the problem and come to some resolution. I’ll ask the group, depending upon how they organize, to have one or two people who routinely update me on progress and come to me for intervention if it’s needed.”
“Gwen looked a bit concerned and asked, “What if the folks in the department simply won’t play ball with you and do nothing?”
“If that happens, the untenured ones will walk the plank and be looking for a job and the tenured ones will have seen the last salary increase of their working lives at this university.”
“You could do that, Old Man?”
“I’ll work that out with the dean in negotiations or I won’t take the position.”
“Oh boy! Maybe I’ll get to screw the chairman in his office yet!” Gwen shouted.
Again, I had to laugh at this bundle of womanhood and Gwen said, “Let’s go to the Y and see if you can’t work out that stiffness and soreness,” and that’s what we did.
The rest of Monday was so quiet that when the phone rang that afternoon, all the cats descended on the kitchen to watch me answer the phone. It was Gwen’s dean and he said he had the clearance from my university to hire me temporarily and could we talk about the appointment? I suggested he name the time and he said, “How about now?”
I casino şirketleri agreed and drove to campus and we talked and worked out our strategy and decided on my compensation. I negotiated for five thousand a month and then lowered it to four thousand so that the administrative assistant could have an immediate three thousand dollar raise. The dean whistled his admiration at the salary raise for the assistant and noted, rather unnecessarily, that I’d just secured her undying loyalty.
We agreed that we’d meet with Gwen’s department the following Monday afternoon. On Tuesday, I met with the Office of Institutional Research and defined a number of reports that I wanted them to generate by Friday and they agreed.
On Wednesday the dean and I met with the chairpersons of all the other departments in the school and told them to expect to be visited by various members of Gwen’s department in the near future. At that meeting I also learned just how disgusted the other departments in the school were with Gwen’s group. Clearly, the dean had not exaggerated the dysfunction in Gwen’s department.
Gwen was intrigued with the behind-the-scenes machinations in which the dean and I were engaged. Every evening she would pepper me with questions about what we were doing and why. She also reiterated that people in her department had been at the conference and knew we were a couple. As she so delicately put it, “They have to know I am acquainted with Ivan.” She does have a way with words sometimes.
On Saturday morning, Barb arrived for the weekend much to Gwen’s and my amusement. “Why?” Gwen wanted to know, “do you spend every weekend here rather than at school?”
Barb’s answer was, “Oh, this crazy place is a lot more fun than anything going on at school.”
Barb found out just how crazy it was on Sunday morning when she, responding to one of Gwen’s outbursts of laughter, walked into our bedroom to ascertain what was so funny. Barb caught us, flagrante delicto, in bed. Gwen later described the look on Barb’s face as incredulous as Barb said, “Oh my god, Will. That thing is big!”
I froze when I realized that Barb was in our bedroom. Gwen did not. She came roaring out of bed, naked of course, and ushered Barb out of the bedroom and I heard Barb say, “Wow, nice ta-tas Mom!”
The next sound was Gwen giving Barb unadulterated hell for walking into our bedroom while Barb tried to explain why she entered, but it was a losing battle. Gwen was upset and let Barb know it in no uncertain terms. Barb apparently retreated to the safety of the guest bedroom and an incensed Gwen came stamping and jiggling back to our bedroom. I remarked, “Nice ta-tas, Mom.”
The whole thing had an interesting effect on Gwen because she jumped on the bed, squatted over Ivan, grabbed him, and literally shoved Ivan into her pussy and slammed herself up and down on me. I did comment, “Possessive, are we?”
Gwen, through gritted teeth, muttered, “You’re damned right I’m possessive, Old Man. This is my cock and no one else even looks at it.”
I kissed Gwen very passionately, and she enjoyed a groaning orgasm.
When Gwen recovered from her orgasm, she put on a robe and marched right out of the bedroom and into Barb’s bedroom and gave Barb another real talking to, the likes of which I’d never heard coming from Gwen before. This was one angry little Princess and Barb knew it.
Later, when we came out of the bedroom to go to the kitchen, Barb was waiting for us and apologized to both of us.
Gwen was still steaming and only nodded her head in acknowledgement of Barb’s apology. I, however, said, “Barb, I accept your apology and I even understand your response to your Mom’s laughter, but you were way out of line making any kind of comment whatsoever about my penis or your Mom’s breasts. You should have immediately turned and left the bedroom without comment. You’re a very integrated part of your Mom’s and my relationship, but you don’t cross the line into our bedroom and into our intimate relationship. That’s just out-of-bounds.”
Barb dissolved into tears and started sobbing and I nodded to Gwen to go to Barb and Gwen shook her head signifying she would not. So, Barb sobbed a while longer and when she had dried her tears she arose and went to the guest bedroom and picked up her clothes and started out the door.
I stopped her and said, “We don’t want you to leave. Stay the day as you always do. You screwed up, it’s been explained, you understand it, and now we pick up and go on.”
Barb said, “I can’t. I’ve never, ever, seen Mom so angry with me that she won’t talk to me. I just can’t be comfortable here.”
Gwen appeared at that moment and put her arm around Barb and led her back to the guest bedroom and they were in there a while. What Gwen said, I don’t know. But, the two of them emerged fifteen or twenty minutes later and we went on to church and lunch and had a good morning of it.
Sunday afternoon was quiet. Barb studied while Gwen prepared for classes and I studied the number of reports I’d requested from Institutional Research. Barb left for college casino firmaları after we had a light dinner at home.
On Monday we followed our usual routine until I drove to Gwen’s school in the afternoon. Her departmental meeting was at 3:00 p.m. and we started on time with all faculty and Marcie, the administrative assistant, present.
The dean called the meeting to order and then delivered a stinging lecture to the assembled faculty. I doubt, in the history of higher education, a faculty had ever been spoken to in the manner the dean did on this occasion.
He literally ripped them to shreds and he included some choice comments from the other departments in the school. He concluded his remarks with the information that a search was on for a new chairperson and a search was on for new faculty as well because he anticipated that a lot of “deadbeats in this room won’t be here in August.”
He then introduced me as the Acting Chair and told them I had been given the mission of starting to make this collection of ‘clowns’ into an integral part of the school.
He turned the meeting over to me and departed. I sat and studied the eleven faculty members for a few minutes and let them stew in their juices. Gwen was watching everything with clinical detachment. Others were simply fuming at the indignity heaped on them. Others were confused and floundering and all, except Gwen, were looking at me with ill-disguised hostility.
Finally, I stood up and began by saying, “Let me give you a little more context of what is going on here. You folks are in some real jeopardy. The dean has my back. The Provost has his back. The President has her back and the Board of Trustees has, as usual, their collective heads up their collective asses, and if the President told them it was noon at midnight, they’d believe him.”
“In other words, folks, this department is in such shambles, the President has been informed that you are a bunch of loose cannons.”
Then, I stood for a while and let them think about what I’d just said.
I continued, “Resignations are being accepted at any time. Turn them into Marcie, and I nodded to the administrative assistant, anytime in the next few weeks. If you plan to resign, you’re excused from this meeting now.”
No one departed.
One fellow did speak up and say, “What if I choose not to resign and also choose not to participate in this game.”
I responded, “This is no game. Restate the question if you want an answer. “
“All right,” the guy grumbled, “what if I don’t participate in this process?”
My response: “That’s a good question. Are you tenured or non-tenured?”
“Tenured,” he said.
“Then, I hope your salary is quite sufficient because you’ll never see another raise as long as you work here.”
The fellow came up out of his chair and bellowed, “What did you say?”
I said, “Get your hearing checked. A prof with a hearing problem can’t operate at optimal levels.”
He stared at me for a while, but he did sit down.
A young fellow asked, “I’m not tenured. If I don’t participate in the activities you have planned, what’s in store for me?”
My response was, “You’ll be denied tenure on the grounds that your Service Record is ‘Inadequate.'”
“But,” he protested, “what if my teaching and research are excellent?”
“Tenure, as you should know, is based on excellence in either teaching or research or both and a ruling of, at least, “Adequate’ in the other one or two categories. ‘Inadequate’ in any category deems you unfit for tenure.”
I was smiling to myself because Gwen was on the edge of her seat watching and listening with rapt attention.
“Are there other questions?” I asked.
An old timer on the faculty laughed out loud and said, “You have our attention. What do you have in mind?”
I laughed, too, but with him, not at him. He had been around long enough to know when his balls were in a vise.
“All right. Here is the overall goal. We want two statements. The first deals with how this department relates to the mission of this school. You are an incredibly important service department to this school. Nearly every department sends students to this department to learn stats and research design, survey research, etc. What do those departments need you to teach? When do you need to teach it? What do they need their students to learn?”
“The second deals with how this department fits into the world of scholarship. What do we emphasize and how do we demonstrate that emphasis in our graduate curriculum, in the recruitment of graduate students, and research?”
That’s the first step. Second, and we’re not worried about this now, we’ll want an implementation time-line. For now, put that aside.
“If you didn’t digest all that orally, I’ve written essentially the same thing on a paper I’ll be giving you.”
“Right now, count off in twos.”
The faculty did and I said, “For now, those of you who are ones, will deal with the service aspect or how does this department relate to the mission of this school. The twos will deal with güvenilir casino the second issue.”
“If you are in one group and prefer to be in the other, find someone with whom to switch, but neither group may have fewer than five people.”
“Each group will elect a chair and that chair will report to me on progress and issues and seek me out if my intervention is needed on an administrative problem.”
“I’ll be in most days from 10:00 a.m. until 1:00 or 2:00 p.m. Make an appointment with Marcie if you need to see me. I don’t have an open-door policy and if you come to me with some damned departmental politics issue I’ll bloody your nose. I am not here to babysit. I am here to get this job done.”
I nodded to Marcie and said, “Marcie is now passing out the statement of what has to be done and she is also passing out reports on every class taught in this department for the past three years. The reports document the department of origin of every student, the students’ class standing, and the students’ by gender and ethnicity, etc.”
“A separate grade report is being issued for each course and I will say the grading practices, because there is apparently no policy, are deplorable. Grade inflation is rampant and it will have to be stopped. The other departments are reporting that their students are earning ‘As’ and ‘Bs’ here and are clueless about what they ostensibly learned here while earning an ‘A’ or ‘B.'”
“Meeting dismissed and I want the chairs of the committees to meet with me on Friday at Noon and, by God Almighty, there better be some progress to report.”
No one moved!
I stood up to leave and someone yelled, “Wait!”
“A question?” I asked.
The old fellow with whom I’d shared a laugh said, “Yes, we have a question. We know who you are, but we don’t know what in the world you’re doing here. How’d you get here?”
“I’m sure a few of your colleagues can fill in the blanks for you,” as Marcie and I departed.
When Marcie and I left the room on the way to the departmental office Marcie remarked, “I think you put the fear of the Lord in them.”
“We’ll see, Marcie, we’ll see. Never, ever, underestimate the ability of a faculty to turn a task into a marathon of mental masturbation.”
I went home to Gwen’s place and Gwen never came home until 6:00 p.m.
She came in the door and ran to me and said, “Up!
I picked her up and she announced, “We were working, as a faculty, until a few minutes ago. It was amazing!”
Then she kissed me and said, “You scared me. Imagine what you did to the others.”
I grinned and said, “Well, if it got them moving and thinking, that’s a really good thing.”
“Yes!” Gwen said, and then she said, “Feed me. I’m hungry.”
“Did you not say you were making dinner tonight?”
“I did say that, but I didn’t know we’d be working as late as we were.”
“OK, where do you want to eat?”
“Let’s go someplace nice.”
“Princess, why do you never say, ‘Let’s go someplace crummy?'”
Why was I not surprised when she stuck out her tongue at me?
At dinner Gwen told me, “The faculty decided I should be excluded from their deliberations because I’d run home and tell you everything they said.”
I smiled and asked, “And, your response to that was what?”
“Oh, I told them that would make you angry and you’d think of something really Machiavellian for them, so they let me stay.”
“One guy was really ticked off and asked me, ‘Do you really live with that arrogant bastard?'”
Again, I smiled and waited for Gwen’s response which was, “Will is easy-going and indulgent, really, but he has some standards for the professoriate that this group has violated and he wants it corrected.”
Gwen continued, “One fellow wanted to know what happened to Gearhart and I told him I didn’t know. Should I have told the truth?”
I thought about that for a while and finally said, “You don’t know what happened to Gearhart. You know why something happened to him, but what it was, neither you nor I have any idea. The fellow asked the wrong question.”
Gwen nodded and said, “Another fellow wanted to know if you even knew the names of the people in the department. I told him I had no idea. And, another guy yelled at me for not alerting my colleagues about what was afoot.”
“Uh oh,” was my response.
“Yes, I tore him a new asshole. Boy, did I let him know that I don’t know everything that is going on and much of what I heard today was as new to me as it was to him.”
“Princess, you tore him a new what?”
“I tore him a new asshole.”
“That’s a Southern phrase. Where did you hear it?”
“I guess I heard that one at MIT when I was a grad student.”
“Well, that fellow how has a lot of new assholes because I thought the dean really did a job on those fellows.”
“He really did, didn’t he? The dean was really angry. You were stern, but you weren’t angry. And, the department is furious with the dean. He was demeaning.”
I thought about that for a while and said, “Well, here’s something you can share with your colleagues that they don’t know. The Provost, herself, came down on the dean harder that he came down on the faculty today. That’s how poorly the department is perceived on campus. Complaints had reached all the way to the Provost’s Office.”
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