Health 101 -- First Day of Classbyjacktar48©
For the first time I had my brand-new class all together. I checked the roster quickly. Amber, of course, smiling brightly and full of enthusiasm. Jennifer; sweet, petite, a delicious tiny blonde waif. Shyness may be a problem for her. Cynthia; another blonde, curly hair, a good figure. Pamela; a flaming redhead, slender but nicely stacked. Megan; dark and mysterious, probably some Native American genes there. Glorious long black hair. Anna; good German stock there -- solid, stolid, but oozing untapped sexuality. James; tall, almost painfully thin, with short brown hair. Looks at his shoes a lot. I scribbled a note: "May need help getting rid of his inhibitions." Jason; a big one. Probably played football in high school. Andy; almost certainly destined to be my problem child. Charles; bookish-looking, with long dark hair tied back with a rubber band. Nice body on him though. Michael; cute, with curly blond hair and an infectious smile. Justin; short, but solid. Muscles on his muscles.
"Good morning, Class," I smiled. "You can be proud that you made it this far. You should also remember that you will stay in my class only as long as you scrupulously obey the rules and continue to abstain from unauthorized sexual intercourse. To be perfectly clear, by that I mean "fucking." You will certainly be allowed to touch yourselves in any way that pleases you, and you will touch each other as well, once we get to know each other better. Now you all know me," I pointed at myself, "and we've had our little talks, so now it's time for you to get to know a little about each other. Please stand, one at a time, starting with the front row, and briefly introduce yourselves. As I have told you all already, you may always speak freely in this class. Language sometimes considered "dirty" or offensive is not at all offensive to me, as long as it is used constructively. Some of you may have formed the opinion that the word "fuck," for instance, is dirty or unacceptable. If I know what it means, and you know what it means, why should the word itself offend either of us?"
Amber jumped to her feet, generous breasts jiggling happily under her skimpy blouse. "I'm Amber," she giggled. "Like in "Forever Amber," you know? I think that must have been my Mom's favorite book. But she died," Amber's face clouded, "when I was little and I got sent off to a Swiss boarding school. It sucked." She brightened. "I made myself come for the first time in Professor Crumpet's office," she whispered sotto voce, "and I bet I've done it a hundred times since then. If anybody wants to know how to do it, I'll be glad to show them --"
Class reaction consisted mainly of open-mouthed stares.
"Enough, Amber!" I broke in. "I know you're happy about it, Dear, but we'll get to that soon enough. Right now we're just doing introductions. Next person, please."
James stood awkwardly, the tops of his ears noticeably red. "I, uh, I'm James..." The redness began to spread. "I, uh, I go to school here, and..."
"Good, James," I encouraged him gently. "Since this is a class on human sexuality, perhaps you could tell us all what interests you about that subject."
"I, uh, well, I just thought..." James scuffed his shoe miserably. "I just thought I would like to know more about girls. Since I never really knew any before."
People stared at him curiously. "I grew up on a big wheat farm in Nebraska," James continued. "And the closest school was miles away, and so I was home schooled. But my Mom was a certified teacher," he explained earnestly. "And I really didn't miss much. Except the girls..."
"Splendid, James!" I interrupted. "Nice introduction. And now we all know that you have not had the misfortune to have fumbled into any negative experiences, right?"
"What a geek!" Andy guffawed. "What are you doing in this class, anyway? You ought to go sign up for Junior High somewhere and see if you can at least get yourself a feel --"
"Andy!" I snapped. "You will, and I mean you REALLY will, absolutely refrain from making negative or belittling comments about anyone in this class." I glared around the room. "You ALL will. Or you will be out of here so fast you won't know what happened."
"So, Andy. Why don't you stand up and tell us all about your expertise in this subject?"
Andy stood, belligerence evident in his posture. Add a cigarette and a leather jacket and he could have passed for James Dean.
"My Dad's rich," he bragged. "He could buy this place and everyone in it. I'm only taking this course because he told me to. But that doesn't mean I have to take any crap from any of you," he added quickly. "You can all kiss my ass for all I care -- "
"Andy," I said in my most dangerous tone, "you will remove that chip from your shoulder or you will leave right now." I tried to hide my bewilderment while I considered the situation. Where had this kid come from? And how in the world did his father know enough about my course to order him to take it? Nobody was supposed to know the details of my course material or methods. Even the Dean...of course he had some idea, but he had repeatedly remarked to me that "I don't know exactly what your syllabus is, and I don't want to know. And I want you to remember that. If there's ever any trouble, YOU ARE ON YOUR OWN. And don't forget it." I had had my doubts about Andy from the first. He was sullen and irritable. Yet he had a certain aura...I had wavered, then finally decided that, since I did not have another especially likely candidate to round out the group, that I would take him and hope to break his stubborn selfishness. And then I got a call from the Dean...curious, that. He had specifically inquired about Andy's status. Came close to hinting that it would be a good idea for me to accept him. This had never happened before, and it struck me as odd at the time, but I was busy....
"Now if you think you can do it politely, please tell us about your previous sexual experiences," I told him.
He glared at me. "Told you already I've never done it before. Oh, I could have, lots of times. But my Dad made me promise to wait. He told me, "These little bitches at the Country Club would like to let you into their pants so they can claim you knocked them up and shake me down for a lot of money. You just keep it in your pants for now, boy." And my Dad knows...just about everything." For a moment Andy reminded me of a motherless little boy who looked to his Daddy for affection and never really got it. That tender emotion passed quickly. "He said that on my 18th birthday we could go to Vegas and he would get us a couple of Keno girls and we could fuck their brains out for as long as we wanted. My Dad knows everybody in Vegas. He could buy that place." Andy's face fell, remembering. "But my Dad was busy when my birthday came around. I don't think he forgot, but he's real busy, you know?" He looked toward me pleadingly. "I know we'll do that, sometime."
"I said "sexual experience," Andy, not "sexual intercourse." And I am truly glad for you that your first intercourse experience was not administered by a prostitute. There are many varieties of sexual experience, and we will be exploring the most basic ones right here. What do you think is the very first sexual experience for most people?"
Andy shrugged. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about if you don't mean regular fucking," he mumbled. "I don't go for any of that pervert stuff."
"Don't you masturbate, Andy?" I probed.
"Hell no!" he blurted. "Jacking off is for losers. I NEVER do that. My girlfriend used to like to suck my dick, though." He grinned lasciviously. "You never asked about that. I just said I never fucked her. But when I was sixteen I got her to cop my joint, and she loved it so much she told all her friends on the cheerleading squad and they wanted to try it too. I got thousands of blowjobs from those sluts. I'm probably an expert on blowjobs," he bragged. "I could write a book on it --"
I tried to maintain my calm. I was starting to dislike this kid intensely. "Have you ever heard the old saying "Nine out of ten boys jack off, and that tenth one is a liar"?" I asked evenly. "You have just placed yourself in the tenth category, Andy." The boys in the class chortled happily. "And, Andy? You will never, EVER, refer to a girl or a woman with whom you have shared physical contact as a "bitch" or a "slut" again in my presence, is that clear? Girls who give you sexual enjoyment deserve your respect and gratitude, not rude labels. Now sit."
I paused for a moment to regroup. This was not going well. "I am beginning to suspect," I told the class, "That someone has not completed the reading assignment I gave everyone at the end of their last interview. Did everyone ELSE" I paused to glare at Andy, "read the first three chapters of my book, "Elements of Human Sexuality"?"
"Ooooh, I did!" Amber announced gleefully, waving a copy of my book over her head. "I really liked the part about learning to love yourself first. I got right up and stood in front of the mirror," here she stood and faced the class, "and I was already almost naked, you know, so I took off my bra and panties, and I held my breasts, like this, and I said, I said, "Amber, you have two gorgeous titties, and you love them," and then I rubbed my nipples with my thumbs, just a little, and they popped right up, like they were saying, "We love you too Amber honey," you know? And then I got some lotion, and I smoothed it all over my body until it was all silky, and I said, "I love my body," and then--"
"That's good, Amber," I said. God save us from the zeal of the newly converted. "Jennifer, did you find the reading material comprehensible?"
Jennifer was bent over her notebook, scribbling furiously. I wondered what she might think she needed to write down at this point. "Jennifer?"
"Yes, Professor. I read the assignment and I outlined it in my notes..." her already faint voice wavered into a whisper. "I think I understand. But I didn't do the exercises because, well, I thought we weren't supposed to get ahead of the syllabus..."
"That's generally correct, Jennifer," I told her. "I don't want anyone to get too far ahead and make a mistake which will lead to an unpleasant and possibly traumatic experience. But the exercises in the first three chapters are very basic. Most people will be familiar with them already. Am I to understand that you have never given yourself ANY kind of sexual pleasure?"
Jennifer hung her elfin head and blushed deeply. "I went to a Catholic girl's school," she whispered. "The nuns told us that touching ourselves was a mortal sin. That if we felt like we wanted to do that, we should pray for relief and think of something else." She raised her head angrily and continued in a stronger voice, "But I think they LIED. I think they were just a bunch of dried up old hags who never had any fun out of life. And I want to live and be happy. And I want to learn about my body and use it to make myself happy and other people too." She buried her head in her arms, and I saw that her delicate shoulders were shaking. Poor Jenny. Watching her blossom would be a rare pleasure, indeed.
"You're about to enter a world of joyful discovery, Jennifer," I told her gently. "Amber has already cracked open that door, and you can see how happy it is making her. Now I want the two of you to get together after class, and Amber will show you how to get started, won't you Amber?"
Amber nodded vigorously. "In fact," I continued, noting that Jennifer's apparent sobbing had not diminished, "I think it would be best if the two of you went straight to Amber's room and started working on that right now. Proceed with the utmost delicacy, Amber," I warned her. "Everyone may not be as quick to catch on as you were. Now the rest of you -- we're running short on time. Get out a piece of paper and we're going to have our first quiz." The class groaned. "I want you to write me a couple of paragraphs describing what you consider to be your first sexual experience. The first one you remember, anyway. As I noted in the book, many babies -- the lucky ones, anyway," I smiled, "first begin to masturbate while still in their mother's womb. They may even reach orgasm, I don't know. But I don't exclude sexual experiences which do not culminate in orgasm, and neither should you. Now write, class. Be honest and be as explicit as you like. Begin."
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