Transforming Genevieve Chapter One Part 1 - Sex Stories

Transforming Genevieve Chapter One Part 1

It's been eleven years since I earned my doctorate in English Literature from a prominent mid-western university. I moved to Boston when I accepted a professorship at Regis College to teach pre-seventeen hundred English Lit. I expected to be at Regis for three or four years. My expectations never came to pass, and four years ago, I received my tenure papers. I suppose a career at Regis is a distinct possibility.

My profession is pre-1700 English Lit, but my passion is writing erotic novelettes. I live in a one-bedroom flat near the historic district of Boston and often travel to Manhattan to enjoy Broadway shows and an occasional off-Broadway play. I've never considered the possibility of marriage, and the thought of giving birth isn't something I have the tiniest bit of interest in.

I suppose my fellow professors at Regis see me as somewhat stuffy since my wardrobe around campus consists of unflattering sweaters, long skirts, and flat shoes. My long brunette hair is always pulled up in a bun with a pencil stuck through it. None of my male counterparts have shown the slightest interest in me.

At thirty-six, I still have a relatively firm figure. My breasts are a petite 34B cup, and my slim waistline flares nicely at my hips. I stand five feet five inches tall. My green eyes contrast very well with my straight brunette hair.

I have often fantasized about becoming one of the characters in my erotic stories but have never had the nerve to bring any of those fantasies ...

... to reality. That is until my most recent trip to Manhattan. Several weeks earlier, I had come across the internet web page of a small theater group that described themselves as erotically offbeat. The schedule of their productions listed a show titled "Taboos." Since my novelettes sometimes deal with social taboos, I ordered a ticket for a Saturday afternoon matinee. I made reservations at the hotel where I usually stay when visiting New York and looked forward to spending two days away from Boston.

The Friday afternoon of my trip, I had wanted to get on the road early. Maybe even make it to Manhattan before the evening rush hour. The best-laid plans can change in an instant. Mine happened to be altered by several students who wanted some additional help with a rather tricky assignment I'd given my advanced English Lit class. I finally made it out of my office at about 4:45 PM. As I walked down the long hall of the English department that Friday afternoon, Richard S. Davidson came out of his classroom just as I approached.

"Evening, Ms. Walker, you're here late tonight?" He asked me.

I half smiled at him and replied, "Yes, Richard, I had planned on leaving early today, but I had to help a couple of my students with an assignment." I added, "By the way, Richard, I'd appreciate it if you would call me by my first name. Ms. Walker sounds so matronly.

Richard had a keen memory for all the characters in Sir William Shakespeare's novels, but when remembering the simple ...