Patrina and The Professor Ch. 01

August, 2010

Patrina Collins strode through the halls of the student union with purpose. Her hair, normally tied in a bun, was let loose on this warm spring afternoon, and it bounced wildly with every determined step she took. Even though it was loose, her hair still managed to frame her face, which wouldn't look out of place on any fashion magazine. Her hair wasn't the only thing that bounced. Her generous curves were difficult to control even under normal circumstances. Her ample breasts swayed and tremored inside her stylish blouse, which showed off just enough cleavage to draw the eye, but no so much to be deemed obscene. Her hourglass hips, which were perfect for holding onto, swayed with each click of her heels on the tiled floor.

Most of the young men, and more than a few women, couldn't help but stare at Patrina as she made her way to the lecture hall. Sure, she was beautiful, but she exuded a confidence that was positively magnetic.

She stopped just outside the lecture hall when she saw her friend, Whitney, waiting in line.

"Hey girl!" Whitney shouted across the crowded field of students, waving her hand and jumping up and down, so as to catch Patrina's attention.

Patrina smiled, both to herself and to the circumstances. "Hey girl. I didn't think I'd be seeing you at this thing."

"Why not? I'm interested in feminism just like you." Whitney pouted.

"Suuuuure you are. I'm curious, though. When did you develop an interest in comic books?" Patrina replied, pointing to the signs advertising the guest lecturer.

Prof. Felipe Baumgardner

delivers a feminist critique of

Modern Graphic Novels

this Thursday, 2:00 pm.

The sign was detailed with comic book font for the lettering, and there was a picture of the professor standing next to a assortment of modern graphic novel titles.

"I...ummmm...appreciate art just like you, too?" Whitney said, trying to think of an excuse for being there. Patrina gave her a skeptical look.

"Okay, look. Professor Dingman is giving anyone who attends this thing extra credit, and I really need to get my grade up in English," Whitney said, finally coming clean about her true motivations. "And besides, he's kinda cute, don't 'cha think?"

Patrina looked at the poster. The man in the picture could be cute, she supposed. He had a scruffy looking goatee beard that he only kept partially trimmed. He looked nerdy in a quirky way, but not antisocial, with deceptively broad shoulders and a kind smile.

Patrina shook herself out of her reverie. "I'm not here to hook up with Mr. Sensitive Nerd. I'm here to see if what he has to say is worth anything."

Patrina was double-majoring in Women's Studies and Art History, with a dream of becoming a famous feminist artist in her own right. When she heard that a man was giving a lecture about feminism, it piqued her interest. When she heard the lecture was connected to art, she felt she had to go, if for no other reason than to defend her fields.

Just a few minutes later, the lecture hall was half-full of a mixture of both students and faculty alike. The head of the English department, Dr. Henrietta Gorsky, introduced the guest lecturer, and Prof. Felipe came out to a mild applause.

"Hello students and faculty of City University. First off, I'd like to thank Dr. Gorsky and the entire English department for having me here..."

As the professor went on, Patrina couldn't help but evaluate his style. He had on faded jeans and worn sneakers, a blazer that was about a half-size too big for him, and a tee shirt with what looked like a female cartoon character riding a tank and lighting a cigarette off of a Molotov cocktail.

"Who is this guy?" She thought to herself.

The professor started his lecture by discussing mid-90's comic book super heroines. He moved through both the Marvel and DC universes with an easy confidence, and his insights were at least as insightful as they were entertaining. Toward the middle of his lecture, he switched to more contemporary, indy titles, finally finishing up with a critique of Bitch Planet, an all-female produced dystopian title about the literal and metaphorical prisons that women face in society.

Patrina hated to admit it, but she was impressed.

Afterward, there was a brief Q & A session with the professor. Whitney wanted to go to a bar and hang out with Patrina, but Patrina told her to go ahead without her.

"I think I'm going to stay." Patrina told her friend.

Whitney shot Patrina a cocky grin. "Told you he was cute," she said in a playful tone.

The Q & A session had some predictable questions, some that Patrina didn't quite understand because they were so niche in the comic book genre, and some that even the professor couldn't make sense out of. All the while, the professor kept stealing glances at Patrina, almost hoping she would ask a question just so he would get the chance to talk to her.

"I think we have time for one more question," announced Dr. Gorsky. Patrina looked around, and saw that no one was raising their hand, so she decided to confidently stand up and address the professor directly.

"Yes, I have a question," Patrina announced.

"Go ahead," signaled Dr. Gorsky.

"Don't you think that, by and large, comic books and graphic novels present an unhealthy female body image? I mean, most of the pictures you showed during your lecture were of scantily clad, impossibly busty women with thin waists and just enough spandex to avoid being labeled as porn."

Dr. Gorsky seemed flustered by Patrina's question, but Prof. Felipe's face lit up with an excited smile.

"In general," the professor started, "I would agree with that assessment. If you look at who was buying comic books from the early 2000's and before, the audience was largely males in their late teens to mid-20's. Publishers felt they needed to appeal to the baser stereotypes of their demographics to sell any titles at all."

Patrina couldn't see where he was going, or why he still seemed so excited to basically admit that the comic book industry was run by, and catered to, a bunch of adolescent boys.

"However," the professor continued, "as comic books and graphic novels started to gain a wider audience, the way they were being written and illustrated started moving away from the teenage male gaze, and began telling more nuanced, complicated stories about real female issues written by real female creators. I admit that I started reading comics in the era of the unrealistic female image, but what excites me the most now as an adult is where the industry is heading. It's a very exciting time in graphic novels. The balance of power has swayed. Writing, illustrating, publishing...it's no longer a boy's club, and audiences today are thirsty for work that challenges them on a more intellectual level than any other time in history."

The professor seemed like he had more to say, but could feel Dr. Gorsky urging him to wrap it up.

"I'd love to talk more about this miss..." Felipe gestured to Patrina.

"Collins. Patrina Collins," she smiled a genuine smile.

"A pleasure, Miss Collins. If you'd like, I'm sure there's a local watering hole where we could continue this conversation."

Later, at the College Station, Patrina and Professor Felipe were discussing his lecture over whiskey and cokes.

"Let's stop talking about me," Felipe said. "I feel like you know everything there is to know about me, and I know almost nothing about you."

"Fair enough," responded Patrina. "What do you want to know?"

"Well, you're obviously not a comic book fan, so why did you even show up tonight?"

Patrina gave a wry smile before responding. "Because you're a guy giving a feminist lecture on an artistic medium. I had to see if you were legit."

Felipe laughed, somewhat to himself, somewhat to what Patrina said. "And did I pass the test?" He asked.

Patrina sized him up. He really was handsome in a disarming sort of way. His scruffy beard and comic book tee shirt (she learned later that the character was Tank Girl) really were an extension of his personality. It was refreshing to meet a man who didn't just project a certain image to gain the social capital off of it. He wasn't just any other guy pretending to be a sensitive nerd. He seemed like the real deal.

"So far, I'd say...yeah. You pass."

They both smiled at each other, and took an extended sip off their drinks, letting the moment linger in the air for just a few moments longer.

"You know," said Patrina, trying to break the pregnant pause, "I'm an artist, myself. In fact, I have this giant, 7' canvass back at my place that I just don't know what to do with." Now she was purposefully flirting with Felipe. "Maybe you could accompany me back home, and we could discuss how best to create some art."

Felipe waited just a second before calling for their tab.

***

The two crashed through the door of Patrina's art studio, locked in a strong embrace and making out wildly like two teenagers. Patrina broke their kiss for just a moment, which made Felipe think he had done something to offend her.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

She looked at him with lust in her eyes. "Take your clothes off," she demanded.

Not being one to second-guess his good fortune, Felipe began rapidly stripping off his clothes. Patrina ran back into her art studio and beckoned Felipe in after just a second. Felipe showed up in her doorway, completely naked, and leaned against the frame.

True to her word, Patrina had a giant canvass spread out on the floor of her studio, and was just in the midst of getting out a selection of paints when she saw Felipe, naked and half hard, standing in her doorway.

She paused what she was doing for a moment to appreciate his body. He wasn't overly-muscled, but well-defined. As an artist, she couldn't help but notice that all the lines on his body pointed to his penis, as if his entire bone structure were conceived to highlight his rapidly hardening cock.

"I can't help but notice that I'm the only naked one in here," he said matter-of-factly.

She shot him a wry smile. "Patience," she told him, and finished arranging her paints off to the side of the canvass.

When she was satisfied with her paint selection, she began seductively stripping off her own clothes. First her blouse, then her hip-hugging jeans. Standing before Felipe in just her lacy bra and panties, she noticed that his cock seemed to jump with approval.

"I take it 'The Professor' likes what he sees?" she said seductively, while gently stroking Felipe's rapidly hardening tool.

Instead of answering, Felipe reached around behind Patrina's back and deftly undid her bra, causing her generous breasts to spill free. The two kissed passionately, him with his hand on her breast, and her still gently stroking his half-hard cock.

Before long, she took the initiative to get on her knees where she was eye-level with his member. She seemed mesmerized by it, watching it intensely as it bounced and bobbed in front of her face. Then, rather unexpectedly, she swallowed the entire thing in one lunge.

The sudden sensation of Patrina's mouth on his dick caused Felipe to groan out loud. As she worked her lips and tongue around its architecture, it became fully hard in her mouth, just enough to poke the back of her throat while leaving an inch or so sticking out. Lewd slurping and sucking sounds filled the room as Patria made sure to get Felipe as hard as possible before implementing the next part of her plan.

When she was sure he couldn't get any harder, Patrina gave Felipe one final suck. The release of his cock from her mouth made a loud "pop" when she let it free.

"Why'd you stop?" he asked.

She looked up at him, admiring both his penis and his body. "Like I told you, I'm an artist," she replied.

She stripped off her panties, the last article of clothing left on her, and then led Felipe by the dick onto the blank canvass. For the first time, he noticed two small dimples just above her ass. She told him to lay down in the center, which he did, his cock still pointing up in anticipation. Then, she began dripping various colors of paint on her body. Reds, oranges, black...the colors of passion. When she was finished with herself, she repeated the process with Felipe, only he got cooler colors: blues, greens, yellows.

When she was satisfied with her two media, she straddled Felipe and allowed his still turgid member to enter her.

"Oooohhhh shiiiiittttt..." she let out, all while Felipe slowly filled her with his cock.

Felipe made a similar groan while he impaled Patrina for the first time, and once he was fully embedded in her pussy, the two locked eyes. "I'm glad I decided to go to your lecture, professor."

She kissed him hungry, then started slowly bouncing on his hard dick.

The paint mixed and splattered, staying pure to its original colors in certain places, but blending together in others.

As they became more comfortable with each other, they rolled around on the canvass, switching positions and smearing the paint wherever there seemed to be empty space. At one point, Felipe was pounding her from behind while her generous breasts swayed and dripped paint onto the canvass with every thrust.

"You are so - Fuckin' - Hot," he said, all while ramming into her with an animalistic energy, each word punctuated by his balls slapping against her clit.

"Oh shit! I love the way you fuck me!"

Her orgasm was building within her. "Don't stop! Don't stop!" she begged him.

Her words just made him redouble his efforts, ramming into her with even harder thrusts.

"Oh shit! Oh fuck! Ohhhhhh fuuuuuucckkkkk!" She yelled out, not caring if anyone could hear. Her orgasm washed over her like high tide. Before she knew it, she was caught in the undertow of her own pleasure as Felipe mercifully began to slow down. Eventually, the two uncoupled from one another and took some time to catch their breath.

"Holy shit, stud," she said to him in between breaths, "where did you learn to fuck like that?"

He let out a satisfied laugh. "I guess when two people fit together as well as we do, things just come naturally."

"Speaking of..." she trailed off, all while looking at Felipe's still hard cock.

"I figured you wanted this to be the last splash of paint for your masterpiece," he said, flexing his dick so it bounced while he talked.

"It's like you can read my mind," she replied. "Tell me when you're about to cum."

He nodded while she wrapped her lips once more around his cock. She bobbed slowly at first, adjusting to his thickness, but once she was used to him, he began fucking her face with the same passion as he fucked her from behind just a few minutes earlier.

Once again, her studio was filled with the sounds of slurping, gulping, and gagging noises while the two worked to extract the final color for her painting.

"Oh shit, oh shit! Here it comes!" Felipe yelled just in time so Patrina could aim his cum down on the canvass. Spurt after spurt landed on the eclectic mixture of colors until Felipe was totally spent. Once she was sure he didn't have any more cum left in him, Patrina wrapped her lips around his penis head one more time, trying to taste what little of him was left.

After they cleaned up (as much as they could), Felipe couldn't help but admire the painting. It wasn't apparent to the casual observer, but he could tell which swaths were left by their different positions. The section in the middle where Patrina rode him was accented by the two arrow-like marks from his shoulder blades. There was one section that he could tell was from missionary because her dimples left the shape of the paint more pointed than the rest. Finally, the spatter from her breasts was evidence that they had finished up in doggy on a different section. The only element that gave away their sex was the dried cum, which had separated itself from the paint in the middle of the canvass.

"It's beautiful," he said.

"It really did turn out well, didn't it?" she replied, impressed with their handiwork.

"So, when can we make another one?" Felipe asked, a glint in his eye.

Patrina laughed at his brazen question. "Ha! Slow down, lover boy. I don't date professors, even ones outside my department."

He pulled her in for a prolonged kiss. "So you're saying..." he kissed her again to accent the pause, "that you don't want to repeat this work of art?"

"I'm saying..." it was her turn to kiss him, trying to tease out the moment, "that I don't have another canvass."

He chuckled at her reply before composing himself. "I mean it, you know," he said. "I really do want to see you again."

"And I meant what I said, too," she responded. "Look me up after I'm a world-famous artist. Until then..." she let the moment hang in the air while she gave his soft penis one more tug. "Keep 'The Professor' safe for me."

He gave her one more lingering kiss before he left her studio. After he was gone, she started thinking about who she could contact about hanging her new piece in a gallery. She wanted to call it, Saudade. She looked down at the rest of her various paintings and multi-media projects. "I almost have enough for a full show," she mused out loud.