tagErotic CouplingsChristian College Sex Comedy Ch. 02

Christian College Sex Comedy Ch. 02


*If my life is a mirror, why does mine have to be one-way with me on the wrong side*

(Thank you frontma for the edit. It is appreciated)

(Yes, this tale is supposed to be somewhat humorous and outrageous too. While not always comedic I'd like to think it is mostly a good-natured romp.)

Day One (It's a What?!?)

My first day of college began with a six a.m. wake-up alarm in our room. Both my roommate and I sat up at the same time. We looked at each other and the sheets failed to conceal we apparently both slept shirtless.

"Hi. You are a girl," I got off first.

"And you are a guy," she replied indignantly.

"What are you doing in my room? I mean, why did they give me a female roommate?" I countered.

"Ah...are you joking?" she asked incredulously. Clearly I wasn't, and that realization made her grin mischievously.

"Where is Glenda?" she inquired next.

"Ugh," I sighed. "When I was registered their system misspelled my name. My first name is Glenn, thus the Glenda, but I go by Zane, my middle name. What about you?"

"Whoops. I'm Rio Talon and this is going to be wicked," she giggled. "I have to admit I never thought I'd meet someone like you at FFU."

"You don't see quite the hardcore fundamentalist/survivalist type either," I responded.

"Ha!" she grunted. "You got me. It was either this or three years at a minimum security prison in Arizona," she confessed. She didn't volunteer what she would have done time for and it was really none of my business.

"I need to shower," I changed the subject.

"I'll go with you," Rio volunteered as she slipped out of bed, and yes, she was naked...and cleverly and artfully shaved with several delicate chevrons pointing down. She also had a black tattoo of the name Lilith going from the right hip along the bikini line – definitely not Church issue.

I went to the closet, got a robe, towel, and bathroom kit. Rio brazenly watched me move around.

"Body-conscious much?" she chuckled.

"Rio, I spent the last two years bathing down at the river with two hundred of my closest neighbors. Trying to cover up gets old really fast," I grinned back at her. "Does my body disgust you?"

"'Disgust' isn't the word I was going to use," Rio said as she licked her lips and also got ready for the bathroom. "Now, let's get you shaved before...the bathroom gets flooded with people. By the way," she tossed me Barbie's missing undies, "are these yours?"

"Booty from my panty raid; please don't turn me in," I chuckled, as I caught them, then stashed them in my backpack, hopefully to return to Barbie Lynn later. Rio laughed again.

As I suspected, not only did I get assigned a female roommate but I was on a female floor, which earned me more than a few shocked looks. Since Rio stuck close to me, she earned her own share of looks, but these were more scornful; Rio ate it up. I still couldn't decide whether I'd miss Rio or not when I got my new room assignment.

The two girls in the showers ignored Rio and I when we came in so I was able to shave in peace and get under a steamy shower without the expected shrieks. Only when they dressed in their robes and put on their glasses did things change. Their looks were best expressed as 'a boy saw me naked!' followed by 'A boy saw me naked...' and ended up with, 'A boy saw me naked and he liked what he saw.' I get hard when the wind blows – anywhere around the globe. They fled in a fit of giggles and I safely exited the bathroom before another girl entered.

It was hardly unforeseen that my attire made Rio laugh but when she suggested black horn-rimmed glasses would really complete the nerd-look, I had to laugh too. I noted her regulation skirt appeared to be a bit higher above the knee than was prudent with a pronounced lack of underwear. Rio confessed that her parents tossed all her 'stripper' wear when they shipped her off and she wasn't going to wear the 'granny' panties they had put in place of her G-strings.

The trek cross-campus to the Dining Hall would have been more enlightening if Rio had not lured me into an engrossing conversation. Remember now, I had been isolated from mainstream Western pop culture for over two years and had a lot of catching up to do. We grabbed some trays of breakfast; then, at Rio's insistence, we headed outside to eat pretty much by ourselves, or so we hoped.

"Professor..." inquired this cute brunette with pig tails, dimples, and into pushing her tits in my face; I barely noticed she was backed up by three other girls.

"Huh?" I questioned.

"Braxton," Rio spoke over me.

"Could you tell me...where the...um...Clegger Science Building is, Professor Braxton?" She lied pathetically.

My first thoughts were, 'why is she wearing such a thin white blouse two-sizes too small?' and wondering 'when is this thread holding that central button in place going to give up on it's hopeless struggle and let her boobs pop out?' Then I became curious why she called me 'professor'.

"It is right over there," I said, as I stood up, put my hand on the small of her back, and pointed the way with my other hand. The location of the building was blindingly obvious since this is not a huge campus.

If things weren't awkward enough, Ms. Brunette twisted, rubbed her hardening nipples against my chest, and asked,


"No," I corrected by whispering into her ear, causing her to wiggle against me. I took her forearm, lingering my touch on the pulse of her wrist before directing it to the proper angle.

"I would walk you there," I added, "but we have to go to the auditorium soon."

"Thank you, Professor Braxton." She wiggled a third time. "It is really a pity I don't have any of your classes. What do you teach?"

"He's a Biblical Archeologist," Rio interrupted, "specializing in Early Christian Erotic Art and Rituals."

I felt Ms. Brunette have a micro-orgasm over that piece of fantastical news.

"Are you still taking on students?" Brunette panted to me. Rio jumped up.

"Whoops! Look at the time!" exclaimed Rio, "Professor, you have to go – Right Now!" With that, she dragged me away from Ms. Brunette and her girl posse and across campus.

"What the hell was that about and why did she call me Professor?" I hissed to Rio as we came to the auditorium for our first assembly.

"Oh, it must be some Southern thing, sort of like the English calling men 'Governor'," she lied convincingly. How do I now know she lied? It will become obvious.

I took a seat with Rio amongst the sea of students and it was just my luck that we were surrounded by girls once more. I really wasn't in the mood to have them gawk at me so I slumped down and kept a low profile. The auditorium sounded full-up and there was a magnitude of teachers and such on the stage.

When a stately, attractive, yet demanding and stern tall woman with long grey hair worked up in a bun stepped up to the podium, the hall grew silent. First she led us in prayer, which I found odd because normally at this level of fundamentalism, women couldn't lead men in prayer, but I could have cared less. She welcomed the rising seniors first, then worked down the list until she recognized the new class of freshmen, reminding them of their 'Handmaiden Duties,' whatever that was.

I looked to Rio who was stifling to suppress some dark glee, undoubtedly at my expense. The Chancellor of FFU worked us through some of what I assumed was normal school crap plus a reminder to review with diligence their code of moral and ethical behaviors and the names of their spiritual guidance counselors in case they felt wickedness overcoming them. Considering the thin white blouses and the short, pleated plaid skirts, yours truly and the other men on campus were going to be scoring like mad, morals and ethics be damned.

A closing prayer ended the meeting and we dispersed like good little sheep heading for our first class of the semester. Rio and I both had English Literature but in different rooms so she was kind/sadistic enough to drop me by my room before heading her own way. I walked in and took a middle seat. Once again all the girls looked at me funny when they came in and I couldn't miss the fact that in a classroom size of twenty, we had nineteen girls and only one guy – me.

I was mulling this over (I'm actually a smart guy but I admit, I hadn't been showing it too much recently) when our teacher came in. Her name was Ms. Goodswell (no lie) and she was a gorgeous brunette with breasts of greater proportions than Barbie Lynn's, and the rest just got lusher.

Ms. Goodswell leaned against the front of her large wooden writing desk and used her tablet to scroll down the roll call. I was number three.

"Braxton," her sugary sweet voice drawled out. "Glenda Braxton." I shifted in my seat.

"Here," I said in a clear masculine voice, "but I go by Zane."

Ms. Goodswell looked up over her reading glasses, expecting something other than me. As she looked at me her eyes grew larger...and she looked...and she looked.

"What are you wearing?" she asked crisply.

"What my Aunt told me was proper school attire, Ms. Goodswell," I replied tentatively.

"Proper attire is clearly outlined – white blouse and a pleated blue and gold tartan skirt with white knee sox and black shoes. Men wear pants; women wear skirts," she clarified. I imagine my jaw dropped open at that one. Finally, I stood up so she could get a good look at me.

"I'm dressed correctly, then I'm a guy," I insisted. Ms. Goodswell had looked annoyed but now she looked pissed. She strode boldly toward me, heels clicking against the marble floor.

"So you insist that you are a man, do you?" she snapped. Before I could do anything but nod she slapped a cupped hand against my crotch. I coughed in pain.

I became aroused despite the mild discomfort because I was now gazing down into Ms. Goodswell's ample bosom. Her eyes went from angry to utter shock.

"You are a man," she whispered in horror. "What are you doing in my class?" I reached into my book bag and got my schedule, letting her gaze on it. I noticed her hand stayed on my crotch.

"Nine a.m., English Lit. 101 in room 204, Denning Hall V. Goodswell," I read out loud. Ms. Goodswell read it over while she massaged my growing shaft; subconsciously or not, I wasn't sure.

"Very well," she said decisively. She turned back and returned to the roll. As I sat down I had that creepy feeling that everyone else was staring at me, or more precisely, my Goodswell-inspired hard on.

After that little bit of drama the actual class was okay. Ms. Goodswell was pretty bright and made our upcoming journey into the works of a bunch of old dead British guys sound fun. When the bell rang we got up and started to file out but Ms. Goodswell motioned me to wait for the others to leave us alone. It didn't work out that way; the other girls hovered right outside the door.

"Okay, Mr. Braxton, what are you trying to prove?" she accused me with some real heat.

"Please, Ms. Goodswell, believe me; I haven't a clue what is going on here. I woke up with a girl in my room this morning..." I began.

"You had a girl in your room this morning? That didn't take you long," she said bitterly.

"No – wait; it was my assigned roommate, Rio Talon, and she was on her side of the room. It is okay because they accidently stuck me on a girl's floor in the dorm because there were girls in the showers too," I continued.

"Didn't you thing that was a bit odd?" she asked suspiciously.

"Not really, ma'am. I've spent the last two years with missionaries in rural Thailand; I'm used to bathing with naked women all the time. Initially, I figured this was some sort of bureaucratic snafu but after doing my own quick census of your class, I think I've missed something crucial," I explained.

"Mr. Braxton...Zane, this is an all-girls school; men are not allowed. We can't even employ a man under the age of forty-five," she informed me while studying my expression. While my penis would have done summersaults of joy, my brain was looking at my access to my trust fund going down the toilet.

"I apologize. I'm pretty sure my Aunt Jill didn't know and I assure you, I was ignorant of this fact. What do we do now?" I sighed.

"I believe you, Mr....Zane. No one would use this as an excuse after going through all the trouble to sneak in here. For now, you continue to your classes and I'll inform your other instructors of this...extraordinary event. Expect to spend lunch with the Chancellor so that we can extricate you from this situation. Can I rely on you to be good in the interim?"

"I'll do my best," I promised. She dismissed me and began using her phone. When I slipped out of the room, my classmates made room enough for me to make my way down the hall.

"Zane!" a young female voice called out. I turned around to see Ms. Brunette. "Is it true you are a freshman here?" I was sure she would be pissed for the whole 'Professor' gag Rio had played and I'd unwittingly gone along with.

"Yes," I confessed. She'd assumed I was a teacher because I was male and I hadn't corrected her.

"Kiss me!" she beamed hungrily. That was not what I expected but I reacted quickly and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. Ms. Brunette looked upset. "You can do better than that," she commanded. Again, not what I expected; I put my book bag down, took hers off her shoulder and placed it next to mine.

I started off with a repeat of the last kiss but instead of that being the ending point, I used it as a foundation to build upon. I slowly drew her in; she pulled her arms up between us and cupped my face as I dipped her with enough tongue action to make our steamy embrace a thermographic exploration of lust. We kissed for over a minute before I brought her up and let her go.

"Better?" I murmured to her. Ms. Brunette nodded dreamily. As I retrieved my book bag from the floor I realized I was adrift in a sea of lonely young women. I could now empathize with that lost baby seal who found itself surrounded by a pod of killer whales.

"Kiss me!" insisted a blonde.

"No, me; I was here first."

"I'm a senior; I go first," demanded a breathtaking black woman. I didn't know what was going on and I had no idea how to deal with this bizarre situation but all that was taken out of my hands by the next noise I heard.

"Get off me, bitch," I heard Rio shout out, followed by a slap and her scream. Rio was hardly my friend – in fact, she had used me for her own personal amusement for the entire time I'd known her – but she was my roommate, an outsider, and I was sure no one else would come to her aid. I shouldered my way in the directions of her screams and sobs, parting the last few girls separating us.

Rio was on her stomach on the floor with three girls gathered over her. Closest to me was one with thick, wavy black hair and dark skin who had her foot pushing down on Rio's butt. The second one, who appeared to be the leader, was a black girl with shiny black hair in an intricate weave and was bouncing on Rio's back, yanking her hair back painfully, and was taunting Rio, saying she was supposed to be a good little beast of burden as well as mocking her as a 'felon'. The last tormentor was the only one facing me, though she was preoccupied with holding Rio's arms forward so she couldn't reach back to scratch the ringleader.

It wasn't hard for me to figure out what to do. When Weave started bouncing up, I swept the legs out from under the other wavy-haired girl, sending her toppling backwards. I then put a boot to the black girl's butt, propelling her into the spectators on the far side of us. I didn't even bother with girl number three.

I grabbed Rio by the arm and yanked her up and swung her behind me. It turned out to be a good choice because when the black girl back-flipped up in one fluid move, she landed in a martial arts fighting stance. I had a fight on my hands, or would have if the bell hadn't rung. As it was, the black girl looked both outraged and shocked when she took in my gender and my counter-stance.

A flood of girls suddenly separated us. Rio took the opportunity to grab her book bag, then my hand, and together we bolted to our next class which was, oddly enough, Biblical Archeology but without the procreation parts. Our professor, Mrs. Carradine, treated me a bit coldly but the attention directed my way by the student body was anything but.

I had barely pulled out my book when the girl behind me tapped my shoulder and slipped me a note.

You will take my book bag to lunch and eat lunch with me. Dove Foster

I furrowed my brow and showed the note to Rio who was sitting next to me. She smiled and whispered, "Handmaiden's Duty," in a condescending tone. "Didn't you read your handbook?" Any further conversation was cut short by Mrs. Carradine's blistering glare.

For some reason, Buddy Jesus kept me safe from anymore female attention until the class ended and I began to make my way out. I took some comfort that Rio stayed close to my side.

"Zane. Zane Braxton...do you mind if I call you Zane?" babbled a shorter, slender girl with shoulder length black hair and glasses as she grabbed my elbow in a death grip from behind.

"You can't ask him to do anything until he steps out of class," Rio cautioned the newcomer. Now I had to decide whether or not I'd be a slave to Dove for an hour because technically she appeared to be in violation of the rules...which I knew nothing about.

"No! I want to help," she pleaded. "Besides, I'm a freshman like Zane so I can't ask him to perform...I mean do something to me – gak – for me," she blushed.

"What is your name and how can you help?" I questioned. I gently rubbed her shoulder and upper left arm to calm her down. She rewarded me with a deep breath and a warm smile.

"I'm Iona Becket. Well, I figure you don't have a web-spot or a schedule manager for your Handmaiden Duties and I could help with that. What do you think?" I was still mulling it over when Rio thrust me back into the flames of Hell.

"Iona, if you could do that for Zane, I'm sure he'd give you a naked full-body oil massage," she teased her fellow freshman. I was sure Iona was blushing furiously down to the soles of her sock covered feet.

"Great; I'll put out my digits and create your calendar, so if you give me your number, I'll get to work," she bubbled. I did as requested and Iona skipped off...through the mob of women waiting outside. I hoped they were waiting for me because if Rio had pissed off that many ladies, she was on her own.

"How did you know that I've been taught massage?" I whispered out of the side of my mouth to Rio.

"You were in Thailand for two years and you are both not too stupid and are really good looking so I figure some back alley lady-boy showed you a thing or two," she answered.

"It was two lady-boys, but I don't think we can go into this right now." I glanced to the crowd.

"Zane, I'm going to miss you when these Christian bitches fuck you to death; you are not a total asshole," Rio sighed as we headed out. I had to figure that was the nicest thing she was ever going to say to me. I stepped out with the certainty that I would be torn apart by well-meaning jackals.

"Come with me," said this imperious voice over the din. A woman (clearly a dominant senior) who had a stunning resemblance to the love child of Angie Harmon and Tyra Banks motioned me forward. Since she had some frightened freshman already lugging around her gear, I was a little uncertain as to what she wanted me for in the fifteen (now ten) minutes between classes.

I trailed after the Super Smoking Hot Chick in the general direction of the Dickens Life Sciences building, mostly watching her ass move underneath that skirt.

"So, do you have a name?" I finally asked. The other freshman stumbled and gasped at my ignorance.

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