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Proclivities XV: Schoolgirl & Professor

How did it get to be the middle of August already? Of course there was work, but now that now included the belabored vetting process for our new “research” positions. The interviewers were mirthless. So serious. Never a smile. Robotically going through their list of questions. However, during one session, the guy couldn’t believe we had no social media presence. Apparently, there was something peculiar about “people your age” not having any accounts on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, or Xwitter (or at least that’s what I called it, that whole X thing being pretentious).

“What can I say? I prefer my interactions with people face to face…or a phone call. Even a video chat. If I want someone to have a picture, I just send it to them.”

Perhaps, he interpreted this as some kind of defect; more likely, he was disappointed at the lack of grist for his mill.

Oh, and George assured me that our adult postings couldn’t be traced back to us given the proxies he employed. The ‘required’ cookie is set for autodelete. Besides we’ve never shown our faces. “No need to volunteer any information about it,” he’d said. I wasn’t about to argue.

We’d caught another fraud case and solved it. A royal we - not just George and I, but others as well. It fell under Goerge’s contract with OTP, which the sweetheart had modified to include me, so my “take” was nothing like the first one. Being raised in a frugal household, I invested ninety percent and the balance, mad money. I’d updated my wardrobe reasonably, so, despite the change in my financial condition, I still couldn’t justify designer price tags. Unless it’s shoes. Shoes are different.

So was the car. My first new car! In a really pretty red. A fully tricked out Honda Accord Hybrid…no more cold heinie for me on winter mornings…George asked why I didn’t get the vibrator option.

I started attending self-defense classes twice per week. Although beating on things was rewarding, a good portion of the time was spent with slow motion instruction, akin to a dance. “If he comes at you like this…you step to the side…turn…and punch his kidney as hard as you can…no, not there…here.” Stuff like that. Eventually, we worked up to full speed…I just pulled the punches. Of course, there was the ‘be aware of your surroundings’ talk and avoiding disadvantageous situations.

Not that we didn’t have some leisure time. Most of it was spent aboard the PROCLIVITES LTD on weekends. As a result, my sailing skills have improved dramatically. Mary and Pete even came down one Saturday, so it was fun to show off our teamwork. I did wear a bikini – one of the areas where I’d expanded my wardrobe, now possessing red and black ones – but I kept my shorts on. I didn’t mind if my nipples showed underneath, a common shortcoming (?) in women’s bathing suits. Mary suffered the same malady in her one-piece, plus shorts as well. However, my pussy is a different matter. Peter would have been disappointed had he known what I was hiding, and, just as surely, Mary would have heartily endorsed my choice. Still, I wondered if she contemplated what George had in his shorts, given her inquiry at the party. The subject never came up for discussion.

Despite these tangential musings, we had a great time. Mary and I had ‘normal’ conversations. I learned that she was a music teacher at a middle school near their home. We both planned to have kids someday. Although neither of us had any specific plans, her event horizon was definitely closer than mine. Humdrum? Maybe, but it reassured what is important in life. A worthy reminder amongst the insanity.

Our summoning had been succinct – Thursday, August 20th at 10:00 AM. So, here we are, in the reception area of a stereotypical DC government building, sitting on government-issued-ergonomics-be-damned furniture, in our interview-appropriate (boring) attire, waiting to see yet another milk toast bureaucrat. It was all so redundant. Only the venue had changed. Why don’t they make up their minds already!

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