Crimson Crossing – Stories in Erotica


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Professor Robinson

Mr. Robinson from the Movie, The GraduateDr. Robinson: As I see it, you have three options if you’d like to graduate on time, Benjamin. You must restart, update, or reach a non-related to the dissertation agreement with me. It’s due in a month. It is up to you how to proceed.

Benjamin was fully cognizant that a month’s time wasn’t enough to neither correct, or begin a new dissertation. It had taken him months to get this far! He wondered why, after all the supervision sessions leading up to today’s, did she wait until now to tell me that the thesis isn’t good enough to even be graded? There really wasn’t any three choices. The feasible decision was to reach an arrangement, both he and she knew that. With a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity upon graduation, what was he to do? Outright fail by trying to update or restart the thesis?

Benjamin: I feel like I’m behind the eight ball. I don’t have but the choice imposed upon me; let’s examine the alternate plan.

Dr. Robinson: How bad do you want to graduate? If you are anything like I was, you should be willing to do just about anything to enter the “real” world. Either that, or spend another year here; and, I’ll make sure of that.

Benjamin: I’m pretty sure I want to graduate this year. I have to. My family has pulled a lot of favors to get me a job upon graduation. If I fail, the chance won’t be presented again. I’ve been warned about it.

Dr. Robinson: I tell you what. Go home, read that dissertation over, ensure that your best option isn’t to update or start it over. We’ll reconvene here in my office at Levermore Hall tomorrow. I’m here by 9AM. You may come anytime after that up until noon.

That night Benjamin didn’t sleep reformatting, correcting grammatical errors, even adding substance to his dissertation. By four fifty AM, seven cups of black coffee, he had given up. He didn’t think much about what the alternative presented to him could be. At worst, he thought, grading final exams and papers, perhaps carrying some books for the professor, even if he had to bring her donuts and coffee each morning.

He fell asleep on the study desk to awaken bathed in stress at around 10 AM. He gathered himself, took a bath, got dressed, grabbed his dissertation, toss it in the garbage and left to meet with the professor. The walk from the dorm to the office was about 15 minutes. He walked it the same as any other day, accompanied by the sounds of whistles into the wind.

He mockingly greeted a few of his classmates before entering Levermore Hall. He walked up the stairs to the third floor, took a left a the top towards her office, the proceeded a few feet to her door. He’s welcomed in, asked to have a seat: “Well, what’s it going to be, Ben?” It took no time at all to inform her that he’d selected the alternative path to graduation.

Dr. Robinson: Close the door for me, will you.Return to your seat and lets enter the arrangement.

The door closes, Benjamin turns around to the view of the professor sitting on the desk with her right leg crossed over the left, and skirt raised to her crotch. Her panties had question mark patterns throughout. She didn’t bother saying much.

Benjamin quickly nodded in agreement as if hypnotized by the question marks on the undies. The professor had very long and strong legs. And her scent was reminiscent of the unknown, had he been in a better mental conditions, he would have quickly familiarized himself with the scent.

Dr. Robinson: I’m going to tell you how this is going to work. You tell me when I should stop, and how far you want to go.

She stands up, walks over to the smart board. Stands with her legs spread apart accentuating her shapely calves, and draws her skirt up to waist level. She faces the smart board and starts to add line items. She talks while writing, assuring him that he could still go back to his paper and fail if he wishes.

Dr. Robinson: See this ass — smacking herself on the left cheek; you can have it, maybe, if you go through with every choice I give you. If you complete them all to my satisfaction, you get both a grade “A”, and me. You are currently failing, so I think you should be pleased about this option.

On the board it read:
F = Be gagged with a “gag-ball”.
D = Digital stimuli.
C = Masturbation with digital simulation.
B = Once you climax, I’m going to collect it, smear it throughout my vulva, my ass, then force you to lick it clean.
A = If you like what I propose, and I enjoy how you’ve handle it. You get to tie my hands behind my back, and return the favor.

Dr. Robinson: You don’t have to masturbate me. You can use whatever you are packing, that is showing erect on your pants right now, and shove it anywhere you want. Also note that it’s not pick one or the other. To get to a higher grade, you must first pass the lower grade.

Benjamin: Can we talk about this first? I’d like to shift things around, if I can.

Dr. Robinson: The door is right behind you. You don’t come in here with suggestions. You take note of what’s on the board, and be ready with the answer tonight after my last class. I’ll be right here. You may leave now, and close the door behind you.

Benjamin is one people whose never met a smart person, he finds a flaw in everything, and everyone. But he had always been at the mercy of the attractive and dominant Dr. Robinson. At the University, it was well known that there was no leniency in her world. Because of her looks, she was the most demanded adviser in the faculty. From geeks to athletes, they all wanted to say that Dr. Robinson advised them.

He spent the entire day debating one thing: If he could be digitally penetrated. When it did happen, would he enjoy it enough to turn homosexual? He pondered about the idea over and over. Hours he spent on his bed looking up at the ceiling with the sight of the professor’s bottom in his mind. To get a piece of her; he thought risking heterosexuality was worth it. So he got up, had a small snack, took a long shower, “I’m going to masturbate just to last longer” — he thought, then got dressed in a sweat suit. Easy on, easy off was the idea. He was shooting for an “A”, and there was no holding him back. He went in and out of scenarios about how badly he was going to shove his penis inside the Dr. He was going to bound her hands to the desk, put her on her knees and have her swallow him up to the scrota. He came up with the idea to shave himself to appear bigger. He feared that in her years of experience she was going to find him small, which he sort of was…

Gagging DeviceWhen he opened the door to Dr. Robinson’s office, there was a digital recorder, bright lights, handcuffs on a seat, as well as a gagging device with a red ball attached at the center. The professor wasn’t around. But a note read, “Sit and wait for me.”

It took about 20 minutes for her to return to the office. She was held up by the dean of school.

Dr. Robinson: How are you, Benjamin. Do you have a grade in mind?

Benjamin: I do!

Dr. Robinson: Care to share the grade and why you’ve selected it?

Benjamin: I’ve had no other thoughts than your bottom in my mind. And, if I’m going to work this hard to have a shot at valedictorian, I’m going to do it thinking that I also violated every rule in the conduct policy of the University; getting a piece of you, of that fine “onion” that upon seeing it just makes me want to cry, is what I want.

Dr. Robinson: Fair enough. Let’s review the grades and their actions. By the way, because you speak so eloquently of wishes, I’ve just decided to updated the actions tied to one, or maybe more of the grades. Hope you don’t mind. Remind me about grade “F”, oh, yes. Gagged and I just appended to it, handcuffed.

Benjamin: How do we start?

Dr. Robinson: Shut up! Undress! I’m going to strip down to my undies. I’ll remove my bra as well. Once gagged and handcuff, I’m not stopping. You better be positive this is what you want. On second thought, sign this here paper stating you are willingly entering this arrangement.

Benjamin: Why shall I do that?

The professor turns her back to him, leans over, and asks him to come touch her. Anything he wants to feel. Benjamin walks over, puts both his hands on her buttocks, and lightly spanks them.

Benjamin: Ok, I’ll sign it! That’s what I want, to have intercourse with you… more so than the means to get there.

Sexy Professor's Mid-SectionHe strips down to nothing but his socks — no need to remove any underwear, he didn’t wear any. The professor switches on the video camera along with the spotlights. The focus is on her desk with mounds of paper all about it. He’s already aroused by seeing that the professor does not look like the rest of her colleagues. She’s closer to one a female athlete than she is to any professor. She’s not young, but she’s not elderly either. She’s somewhere in her late forties, early fifties. Her physique has handled the passing of time well. The signs of maturity present on her face speak of just that, she knows what she wants and how to attain it, while her body reeks of decadence.

Dr. Robinson: Back to the “F”. Lay on the desk face up, and place the hands to each side. Do you need further description? You don’t get it? As if you are Jesus the Christ about to be crucified. The desk isn’t long enough for you, so bend your knees, and put your feet flat on it.

Before Benjamin moves, the professor grabs the gagging device and approaches him. His eyes opened wide, instantly perspiring.

Dr. Robinson: Oh, don’t be shy. Here let me show you how my mouth feels. I’m going to bite your lower lip, then get on my knees and swallow you for quick second. Give you a taste of what I can be like.

So she does as described. Benjamin is no longer sweating. He’s now looking down enjoying the time it took for her mouth to cover him, then quickly withdraw. It’s obvious that his heart has stopped pumping blood everywhere else in his body simply to direct it towards his average-size penis. The head is considerably wider than the body, Dr. Robinson comments on him not being exactly what she expected, but it will have to do. He responds with a cliché that gets him slapped and hushed instantly.

Dr. Robinson: No, no, no. You don’t get to speak anymore. If you are going to taste the secret, penetrate the secret, you’ll have to take it like you men love to tell us women to take it.

The gagging device goes around his head, the ball fits his mouth perfectly. Benjamin now has no option but to listen. He can only speak through heavy nostril exhalations. He might not want to, but his eyes too, will speak for him, telling the professor of his feelings on the matter. It feels like hours to him, the moment it takes to be gagged and walked over to the desk. The incoherent noises speak of the proper engagement of the gagging device.

After laying down as instructed, two sets of handcuffs bound him uncomfortably immobile. The papers on the desk were never cleared, which added to his discomfort by preventing a totally flat surface.

Dr. Robinson: Ah, you look adorable, really, Benjamin. You must have a look… laying on my desk, naked. Yet, you are still failing. That was your “F”. Tell me how it feels to be underway to a passing grade? Oh, I’m sorry. You can’t speak. Say, it’s time get to studying. Don’t mind me, but I just noticed that you are smaller than I expected. I do hope you didn’t freshly shave for me. Expecting me to be delighted by the “optical” illusion that you are bigger than you really are. What a shame! It’ll have to do, you’re all tied up already. What was the “D” again? Oh, yes. Digital stimuli! One of my favorite words, I have you know, Benjamin: “stimuli”. Spread the legs nicely my little pupil. Spread them without shame, I like the feeling myself.

Out of the desk drawer comes out this tube with the label covered by its price tag. Legible is the “-ese” part of the name. Benjamin’s head is off the desk looking down at what’s going on. The professor pours the agent sloppily on her hands. It drips all around his thighs. She apologizes, saying that she’s a tad messy handling liquids, then proceeds to kiss his inner thighs closely to his crotch. While kissing him, she brings her hand around his right thigh and starts to massage him ever so closely to his bottom. His glutes-clench raising his buttocks up and down from time to time in fear of the unexpected. His nerves were getting the best of him but, the ball shoved halfway down his mouth just didn’t allow eloquence to express how it truly felt.

Dr. Robinson: Here, look at me.

He looked down at her, and as she swallowed him, in went her index finger. He was so concentrated by being inside her mouth that he failed to realize the ease by which she slipped inside him.

Dr. Robinson: There, there, honey. I think you might be ready to go up a grade. Say… we work towards a “C”? Aw. How easy was that!

She had her right hand underneath his right leg, and her left hand jerking him. The harder she shoved her hand down the shaft, the harder she pushed in with the right. Benjamin couldn’t look anymore. Had the indistinguishable sounds been proper verbiage, the warnings that he was about prematurely ejaculate would have escaped. But the only sign of pleasure was that of the aggressive sound of air rushing out of his nostrils. Before she even became excited about the prospects of what she was about to do, Benjamin was shooting about. He dripped everywhere.

Woman Licking Ice Cream from Her HandDr. Robinson: Boy, dear boy. But, you appear to have been backed up. Here, look at you on my hand. That was quick work for a “C”. Let’s see, what was grade “B” again? Oh, yes! I’m going to collect as much as I can to smear it about me. Ah, I bet you enjoy the sound of that.

His eyes opened wide as softballs. Had he been a slug, they would have also reached far out of his face towards her.

The professor brought her hand to her mouth and cleaned some of the residue off of if. With that same hand, she reached down, pulled her underwear to the side, and sat on the semen spread about his abdomen. In a grinding motion she collected every drop she could. Those remaining on her hand, she smeared on her ass; the view stopped time.

She walked on the desk and stood over Benjamin’s face; each foot to one side of his face. It was time to remove the gag ball. Dr. Robinson leaned down, reached behind his head and unsnapped the lock to the leather-belt.

To be breathing heavily, Benjamin was very calm. He didn’t say a word; his eyes were fixated up at the professor’s crotch, admiring his residue against her vulva. He wasn’t given chance to catch his breath. She squatted down and slapped him across the face. He looked up at her; “What the F…”, another slap interrupted him. “Sh, Sh, Sh, no talking, remember!”, said she. He was at a loss, he tried to move but his arms were tightly bound against the desk preventing him from moving much.

Dr. Robinson: The work to earn grade “B” is pretty simple my dear boy: lick me clean!

Once again she slapped him, but this time harder than any she had before rupturing his bottom lip enough to bleed. She sat on his face, and by sitting on it, it wasn’t a slight hover giving him the freedom to frolic as he wished. No, this was a forced shove of her secret on his face. She rubbed it back and forth, sideways, even up and down slapping him with her secret right on the mouth. She stood up for a minute to admire his face reflecting the combined fluids of his saliva, semen and her secretion. His eyes were teary, not from crying, but from the inability to breath from time to time when she pressed harshly against his face asking for a brutal suck.

She sat on his chest, looked at him dead in the eyes, reached down to his face, and bit his lip drawing blood again. While biting his lip, she rhetorically asks, “is your dissertation worth an ‘A’?” He tries to speak once more, and this time he’s hushed by a squeeze of his testicles.

Dr. Robinson: I warned you not to speak one too many times, my student. But, here. I’ll make you feel better.

She scooted down his stomach towards his knees, suffocating his penis with her bottom until coming to rest on his knees. Her mouth came towards his scrota… He gasped, gasped and gasped, and she had yet to put him in her mouth. When he thought he was about to enter deep in her mouth…

Dr. Robinson: Oops, Benjamin! Is that your anus I feel? I’m sorry! I wanted to review some of your grades.

She digitally stimulated looking straight at his eyes. He was enjoying it, enjoying it a little too much. So she decided to make him feel better. She grabbed him and slapped him against her mouth. “Are you going to come again, young mister? I’ll put you on my mouth and make little-you try to reach back at my throat.” Not soon enough does she finish her words that she manages to simultaneously push two fingers in him. He almost died and had to speak: “You are going to make me cum.”

Dr. Robinson shoved him in her mouth all the way in. He moaned like a woman being stimulated in the sweetest of spots, then she withdrew it from her mouth, pulled it down towards his knees and released it to slap against his lower abdomen. She again stood over his face. This time inserting her finger inside her, followed by slow sucks of the finger.

Dr Robinson: Had you not spoken, you would have fucked me. Take the “B” and get out of here. Except, you’ll be getting to your dorm wearing only your sweat-top. Disagree?

Benjamin: I do not. Release me. But, I want to request you to turn around. Please, let me masturbate looking at you.

Dr.Robinson: I’d do you one better. You sound so cute begging for more.

The professor released him, then pushed him against the wall. Turned around for a minute so that he could admire her. She was sweet enough to spread herself apart with her hands so that he could see the rainbows of pink in colour. Then, to his surprise, she slapped his penis between her butt cheeks, and roughly moved up and down until he came again.

Before he realized that his dissertation had take a turn for the best, he was pulling the sweat-top down to cover himself on the way back to the dorms… the happy boy had forgotten about all the work wasted on his thesis.

Dr.Robinson: Poor fool. Doesn’t he know nobody ever reads those!


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Hell Week Haze

I didn’t walk my parents’ preferred path in High School. I moved to three different schools by sophomore year of High School; four all together during the four year tenure. I’d like to think that I increasingly improved at misbehaving where it became difficult to get caught, and as a response, expelled from School. And, I would be dishonest to acknowledge that I haven’t been so in this, my first year of College.

I have an issue though. I’m unequivocally lured by public romantic encounters. Not just any romantic encounter, because of romantic, there is nothing; but, of being seen handled with little to no respect in public. Kids my age don’t know how to disrespect, they think it’s being rough and tossing me around; fools! Not that I know what it is, either, but think it can’t be what I’ve been having. All that I know is that physical encounters didn’t feel the same after I stopped being caught and expelled from Schools.

It’s that taboo, the forbidden action of being seen, being caught in public that attracts me; especially so living in one of the Bible Belt States. For heaven sakes, this is the least of the worries of sinners around here: me, enjoying the body I was given while others watch. I do enjoy the casual closet “quick-fix”, but in public… lengthy and perturbing enough where I can be caught to rise hell. Now, that makes my skeleton shake.

B.A.S.E ShieldAll semester I was hounded by the B.A.S.E sorority gals to join them. Maybe it was because of my home state that they chased so fervently. By my second semester I was a ticking time bomb. I wanted to imprint my needs on campus yet, found no way around it but to use the sisters of Delta Psi Epsilon as my guinea pigs. I thought it well, I thought it thoroughly, I didn’t leave anything out, not the very least of details.

What I didn’t know was how I would react. Was I going to be afraid? Was it such a long time since being exposed in public that my thoughts had changed? What if I couldn’t go through with it? Who would save me, then? I had to recruit someone for moral support, just don’t know who. Perhaps my roommate, the too easily swayed and impressionable girl.

During the entire pledge process, or as these young and prodish young adults refer to it “new member education”, I behaved as any proper Bible Belt young female would. I did as told, followed rather impeccably the commands dished out to the rushees. I might have had a chance of making it through, had I not been deterred by the pleasures of the flesh, by the fetishes that control my thoughts.

Hell Week was about to start, and my plans couldn’t have been more favorable. Instead of being pledged as others sororities during Hell Week, each one of us rushees were to “haze” ourselves. We were to choose for ourselves what it was to happen as a final test that would merit entrance into the sisterhood. I felt almost part of a convent, really. If not for my little dark secret of enjoying the flesh, I would fit right in.

The night was chosen, of when we would carry out our “haze” to the sorority: a Thursday night. It series of events were to commence at 10PM, and last no more than 20 minutes each. We would be informed of the outcome of our “haze” at the end of the night when the last pledgee presented revealed her test. Out of 9 new members, I was randomly selected to present fifth. That meant that at around 11:20PM I would already need to have had set up my plan, be carrying it out for them to judge.

It took me the entire pledge period to smooth-over… gain my roommate’s confidence, and vow of her help. She was to reach out for help if things did get out of control. I gave her my cell phone, pre dialed campus police, and instructed her of the duties. She was to dial campus police if I ever, at any point, screamed out “man in the hole”. I didn’t want to fully disclose all of the details. I mentioned that I wanted it to be a surprise, at least fully. I only revealed that it would be of a sexual nature. She was also presented with more responsibilities, besides the calling for help. Her being a virgin seemed to have been beneficial because she jumped to the rescue, expressing desire to watch if she could, too. I didn’t mind, she would add to my desire of being seeing in public.

Lonesome Light PostAt 11 PM my roommate at I left the dormitory. She brought a video recorder on my request. We got to the lone light post out by the quad at around 11:10 PM. The light was on rich and bright. I wore only a stolen jersey I had taken from one of the sisters with new letters on the back reading: B.A.S.E. I had my roommate handcuff me face forward around the light post. I told her to hide by the trees, start recording and watch with close attention. My heart was racing, my knees almost shaking… not of fear, no not that… of finally carrying it through.

When I heard the all too common pledge song, I called out to the boys to come out from hiding. Four of them all together. Four Guys and a GirlOne of them pulled my jersey up to reveal that I was wearing nothing else. Three of them stood around with their pants down using their hands to keep themselves entertained. The one was to rub lubricant all over me, except where the sun don’t shine because that was forbidden. He could touch if he wanted, lick if so wished, but his member was by no means taking that part of me; neither was anyone else’s.

He started first. I would count how many thrusts he was to have, then ask the other student to take his turn, and so on. The one geeky student forgot to bring protection, so I refused to let him touch me, well, maybe just a little. I allowed him to pleasure himself and released on my face. I spoke extremely lewd to him. In his eyes I could see that he had never been spoken in such a way. I wanted him to release when the girls got closer, but he didn’t last long. He finished within a few strokes. But still, at least some of it did reach my face.

The other three guys alternated turns thrusting inside of me. One of them so harshly that my right shoulder hit the light post numerous times. I wondered if the residues of the geeky student on my face would last the collisions from the other three students. I liked it hard, and fast. I didn’t want a seductive thrust speaking of good times while in love. I wanted to be shoved in hinting pain.

I had finally realized my fantasy popularized by the term “train ride”. It had haunted me for years. Whether I would have the will to do it, the prowess to carry it through. It wasn’t that the young men were good, but that I was out in public with the light of the post shining down on me, my roomy recording, and the sisters who had stopped singing by now, screaming, looking down that one of her sisters was being given a “haze” by four men. They ran down pushing the guys off of me, fighting them. The poor idiots tried to tell them that it was all my plan, but the few of them didn’t have a voice against some 30 angry young women.

It wasn’t really a violent scene, the fellows were pretty composed. Standing in a line, each time I asked of one to move off from me to give the other a turn. The manly moans and cursing directing me to bend over, spread wide and hold steady was all my doing. I give specific instructions in how to be treated. They missed a few, but hey, they didn’t get to finish me off either. The female screams heard by my sisters were the pleasurable kind. The kind that had me saturated on the walk to place from bliss. I really didn’t need the lubricant, but having his hands spreading it all over my rear excited me. The cool breeze gave me tingles as it traveled around all of my saturated parts.

The campus police arrived, freed me, cleaned me up; but, not before I got a little taste of the salty residue from my face. If I knew what fear tasted like, that’s must have been it. What that geeky guy left in my face… made me feel, oh, so brave. They took the four kids to the campus police office.

I dropped the charges on the four fellows; charges that I hadn’t plan for. I almost got away with the public fetish until I heard the four kids would be expelled from college. Too bad I opened up my mouth because five people were expelled in total. The four of them for going through with the plan, and me for masterminding the plan.

Yet, I don’t take it back. The feeling of different shapes and sizes, one after to other pushing strongly with residue from another man on my face, all while in public still thrills me. The different voices telling me what to do and how to do it; in conjunction asking if the little dirty girl enjoyed what was happening. And, I do also know that a few of the girls, those Christian ladies in the sorority enjoyed it. We got to speak of fantasies, and while that wasn’t one of them, for any of them, a few of them did enjoy the thought of many guys and one girl. Had they known better, maybe they would have watched for a bit and interrupted after they finished.


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Professor Lynch

College Girl Running LateThere is no bells to announce the end of a class, or beginning of the next, this… after-all… it’s college life. The boorish freshman I am, I went ahead and loaded my schedule with one class after another. So, I have to rush from building to building, at times, across campus to make it to the following lecture on time.

This is one of those times, I have to rush from Levander Hall on the North West corner of the campus to the recently built Science Hall. Sometimes I get lucky arriving early enough to the shuttle stop that I can hope in to safely and punctually arrive at Mr. Lynch’s class.

Well, I had no such a luck so, I strapped my book-bag tightly to my back, sped my strut, and off I went. Ten minutes late, yet again. Mr. LynchMr. Lynch welcomed me to the lecture hall by asking me to take the last open chair. His classes had become the most popular on campus, students, mostly females, would retake his class multiple times. Normally, freshman weren’t allowed to take this class, but because of all the extra college credits I had accumulated during High School, as well as selected major, I was allowed in.

I took my sit on the front row, two students to the left of his desk. One of those old heavy oak desks that reminded me of monks in century old monasteries translating religious scripts. His desk, however, was always clean, not a piece of anything on it. It was pristine as if having never been used. He cleaned it with wipes while asking the class for a volunteer. Everyone’s hands went up, both male and female students raised a hand.

Upon sitting down, Mr. Lynch thanked me for joining the class with a rather sarcastic tone. I understood it as being asked to volunteer so, I stood up and headed towards him. He was looking around the lecture hall in search of a suiting volunteer when he noticed me approaching. He asked me to sit back down, informing me that his class, as well as this demonstration weren’t meant for freshmen. I took the walk of shame back to my chair. When I sat down, he looked at me, expressed not to worry that before I graduated, he would use me in a demonstration. I replied that I hadn’t any interest in attending the same class multiple times, not if I could help it at least. He smiled and assured me that I would return.

College Lecture HallMr. Lynch apologized to the males in the lecture hall, then informed the class that this time he needed a female volunteer. The professor continued to scan the room for a few minutes, seemingly coming to final a choice. He turned towards the smartboard and called out a few girl names to walk down to the front of the class. The girls came to the front; he stood them in line, then asked the male students to vote who would be the volunteer.

Latina TeenThe guys selected the only Latina in the class, maybe even the only Latina in the entire campus. She was the center-fielder for the softball team. Long, down to her lower back, curly-dark-brown hair. Athletic build, stronger looking than any girl I had ever seen. The women I was accustomed to didn’t have any muscular definition, in fact, they were sort of soft; the average girl I would say. This Latina wasn’t that. She was defined everywhere. Her small shorts gave view of succulent quadriceps. I can imagine men running their hands through them forgetting that just north lays perdition.

Everyone was clapping. The volunteer pumped her fist like she’d made a game winning play. I hadn’t an idea what was going on, but I clapped and cheered as well. Some of the girls in the lineup not selected were visibly annoyed. I wondered what the big deal was all about because being a volunteer was obviously something good.

Mr. Lynch powered the smart board on and wrote on it: “Withdrawal Technique, Spring 2013.’

The center fielder was asked to get comfy, whatever comfy meant to her. She bared down to nothing, except the baseball cap; that she left on. My eyes opened wide, I turned around to the girl to my left and asked what the hell was going on. She looked me in the eyes, mumbled “freshman”, looked forward and said “This is Mr. Lynch’s Sexology 301, get used to it.”

“Coitus Interruptus, a method to minimize the chance of pregnancy. Otherwise known, as ‘pull out’.” I read it over and over as he wrote it on the smartboard. I tried to find the correlation between the naked athlete and what was written on the board. Boorish I am, I didn’t understand it until she laid on the oak desk, put her feet flat on the desk, and her vagina came in full display to me.

His lecture went something like this:
         The idea is to withdraw well in advance of ejaculation. We men
         can tell when we are about to climax. So, with practice I have
         come to believe that about 10 seconds or so is safe enough to
         decrease the chances of pregnancy.

         People, don’t be dumb enough to believe this is also a method to
         combat STD’s. It is not. In fact, it doesn’t help deter such in any
         manner. All we hope it does is prevent pregnancy. If you are
         promiscuous, then protect yourself accordingly, as it will be
         demonstrated in next week’s class.

         I am going to penetrate Maria. I will push in slowly, hard, to the
         point where I feel that I am about to respond. Once there, I am going
         to withdraw/pull out. I am going to stay on top of her, but will not
         release anywhere around her privates. That’s part of the method.
         Remember that the idea is to decrease the possibility of pregnancy,
         so ejaculating all over her private part is out of the question.

         Mine will safely land on the desk, a few inches away from her, but close
         enough to still drive lust through those who like to see semen adjacent
         to the vulva.

         The conalingus will not be detailed at this time. I will do it briefly to
         prepare Maria for the demonstration. That method, for those of you interested,
         will be demonstrated at the latter time during the semester.

He went on the bring his face to her crotch. He first looked at it intensely, tossed his tie around and over his left shoulder, lowered himself, turned his head and kissed both her inner thighs. Then apologize to her for the fast targeted attack. Her body jerked at first, I suppose from going straight to the sensitive spot rather than caressing it ready.

She quickly grabbed her hat and tossed it to the side. Her hands slapping hard on the desk. She cursed a few times and somehow managed to say that it is like the girls have told her it was. He interrupted her, stood up to give view to the class of the moisture Maria had secreted notifying that she was ready for intercourse to begin. She was saturated, the glistening of the lights against the moisture, he said, was key that she was ready to receive him.

He unzipped his slacks, pulled his member with his left hand from the zipper opening, and this engorged, girthy manly thing came out. I feared she wasn’t going to be able to handle it all. He was, by no means, little. He looked like a star from those adult films I had seen with my roommate during orientation.

He pulled her closer to the center, mounted the desk, told the class to look at the initial meticulous thrust, then wait for the withdrawal.

He talked throughout the entire event. Giving tips mostly to guys, telling us how tight she felt. Not not to let the emotions of desire control reason, that full awareness was require to pull out at the correct time. She moaned, she spoke to him in Spanish. Of it all I understood the word “papi”. I wondered as much how what she was saying just as I wondered how he might feel inside of me.

My thoughts of being taken by him were disrupted by Mr. Lynch’s voice, when he said: “NOW”. He pulled out, looked up towards the classroom and counted starting at one. Exactly at number 10, he ejaculated on the desk. About a foot away from her saturated, plush, battered vagina. I was close enough, so I got to him release the liquid substance onto the desk. Maria stayed there, softly rubbing herself, biting her lower lip, then asked him to finish her too. He laughed, explaining that it was a demonstration of the withdrawal method, not unison climax of the couple, not a casual sexual intercourse; that it was a classroom, a demonstration like any other.

They both stood up, the class loudly cheering, Maria bowing as if thanking the audience for the warming acknowledgment. I stared at her in jealousy, mostly as not having been chosen as a volunteer, at having been rejected even before the start of the demonstration, and some at her perfect physique.

The professor raised Maria’s hand for a last cheer, proceeded to turn her in circles towards both sides of the class so that everyone took a good look at her. The applause great louder, especially when she bowed with her rear to the class. She had an amazing body, her breast, her butt, the form in which her vagina formed. It was all, well, very pretty if I, the lady I am, might say.

Before Maria got dressed, and before Mr. Lynch cleaned the desk, Maria ran her index finger through the semen on the desk, put it in her mouth, looking at him, and said “Thank You, Papi.”

She got dressed, walked up to her class to cheers as well as evil looks from jealous students. She found her chair, got situated, and asked him what was she to do when she was still wet, worse, filled with naught. He smiled again, looking at her with those piercing blue eyes, and told her she could come over with one of her teammates after class. He quickly dismissed the thought as a playful side of him, which he couldn’t follow through…

The remaining 20 minutes of class where a Q & A to clarify anything about the technique, even comments and concerns. My one comment was that I would be repeating his class until I was selected as a volunteer.