The Thorny Path to Science

Those who work or have worked at university departments know how difficult it is to obtain an academic title. The uninformed will say you need talent, diligence, excellent knowledge of your field of scientific interest, etc. Naive people. You absolutely must defend a dissertation, and to do that, you need to choose a topic for your future thesis, then you have to get your work included in the department's research plan, and if you successfully pass all that, you need to find a scientific advisor. Finding a topic wasn't hard for me; even while writing my diploma thesis, I found an unexplored path in one area of science I was engaged in, but it needed to be approved by the department's academic council. And

the academic council was commanded by the department's "black cardinal," Angelina Varfolomeevna, a youthful lady over 50. She started working at the department right after graduating from university, as she showed promise even as a student (malicious tongues corrected: not *showed*, but *sucked up*). She defended her candidate's dissertation quite quickly, and then her doctorate. On her creative path up to defending her doctorate, she was always favored by older supervisors, and after she became a Doctor of Sciences and essentially ran the department, she took young graduate students under her wing, but for some reason, only men. I came to her for an appointment, introduced her to my dissertation topic; she seemed to listen to me attentively, and at the end of our conversation said it was hard to make a decision just by hearing it, asked me to briefly outline everything in writing and bring it to her home—she had little time at work, she would review it at home. A couple of days later, I rang the doorbell of her apartment; the door opened and she appeared before me in a gorgeous robe. "Don't be surprised, I'm tired of formality at work, can't I be a woman at home?" She led me to the living room, suggested I take off my jacket, and for some reason, in a whisper and using the informal "you"—"Let me get acquainted with the baggage you intend to use to gnaw at the granite of science." With these words, she sat down, unzipped my fly, and pulled out my limp dick, gave it a little squeeze with her hand—"Not bad for a beginning young scientist, let's see how it responds to the help of an experienced supervisor"—and took my dick into her mouth. She gave a decent blowjob and my dick got hard; she assessed it positively and led me to the bedroom. There, she slipped off her robe and helped me undress. Naked, she looked more voluminous: breasts closer to a size five, a small belly, a full ass, steep, lush hips. Not such a granite of science after all, I thought, but a woman of a certain age hungry for dick; for the sake of science, I could satisfy her hunger. Despite her size, she turned out to be a passionate lover; her pussy was tight, like that of a woman who hadn't given birth, and moreover, during orgasm, her pussy contracted strongly and frequently; the lady herself energetically thrust during sex, and when I moved her, changing positions, she guessed my desire. In short, during the first round, I was pleasantly surprised by her behavior during sex. During a break to rest, we drank a glass of good wine; when my dick was ready again to conquer the peaks of science, I put her on all fours and just wanted to drive my dick into her pussy when she yelled—"In the ass, in the ass!"—She took a tube of lubricant from the nightstand and handed it to me; preparing her asshole, I