Sex Ed

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Hey everyone, here is another story for you. This story has a looser twist that deviates from some of my stories. All characters are above the age of 18. This is an interracial story that features sex between a black man and a white woman. If you do not like that then please do not read it. Hope you enjoy!

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The ticking of the old-fashioned analog clock and the odd texture of the hard plastic chairs only spiked the anxiety that Anya was feeling as she waited outside her advisor's door. Anya usually took pride in her advisor wanting to set up meetings with her. They were typical lunch dates that were filled with her own girlish giggles at how bright her future seemed to be. Here and now though, she felt different. She had arrived early hoping to sneak in and figure out whatever minor problem there was, however, she found herself sitting in a line of students who looked like they belonged there. They were the students who needed the midterm meeting, the ones who were in danger of failing and being a drain on society. They were the ones who partied too much and barely cared to show up to class, she was not one of them. She was the student who got high A's and made professors realize why they loved their profession. Except she was. She wasn't called to this meeting in the usual fawning manner. No the email that summoned her was curt, more of a demand than an invitation. Anya shook and bowed her head allowing her curly brown hair to cover her shame. She didn't know why she was called but she was going to fix it.

The clock kept ticking, and Anya sat there in silence. One by one the students ahead of her were called in until she was left alone with the mocking ticks, and her own shame. "Anya come in," she heard. Lifting up she saw the neutral expression of her advisor Dr. Schway. Getting up she dusted off her skirt and walked into the office taking her seat and ready to face the music. Dr. Schway wasted no time, "Anya I've called you here today because you are in danger of failing one of the graduation criteria." Anya's world was spinning as her mental Rolodex searched for whatever course it could be. Her face contorted in one of frustration as she went down the list of every course she was taking and had taken in the previous semesters. The annoyance was visible and Anya was sure she had steam coming out of her ears as she struggled to think of one course that she wasn't exceeding expectations. Looking at her advisor she was on the verge of tears as she thought this was some sick joke. She wasn't a failure. Dr. Schway pushed her glasses up on her nose and decided to stop the poor girl from having a full-on meltdown. "It's the Practical Sexual Experiences course, Anya," Dr. Schway clarified, "I believe you're taking it as an independent study. Is it ringing a bell?"

Recognition showed in Anya's eyes but was immediately replaced with confusion spattered with annoyance. She had signed up for the course, one of the mandatory ones she had put off for most of her college career. Like most other things she saw the "Socialization Standard" that was set in place by the school and government as secondary. It was a stupid independent study that she had already taken the qualification exam...twice. With cheeks dyed red from a bubbling of anger at the situation Anya decided to figure out what was happening. "Yes, Dr. Schway it does. I already took the qualification exam and I thought I passed."

Dr. Schway looked at the young Anya, surprised that she said she thought she passed with such confidence. An uncharacteristic frown snuck its way onto the older woman's face as she struggled with the best way to deliver the uncomfortable truth. She never thought she would have to rid Anya of a delusion of passing. After a moment of tension, Dr. Schway decided a direct approach was the best. "Anya you did not pass." Anya's lip quivered but the good doctor continued, "You failed both tries by more than 60 points." To illustrate her point Dr. Schway turned her computer monitor around to show Anya the grades, which were written in big black letters were a 35 and a 32.

"H-How," murmured Anya as she started to tear up, "The stupid guys came...or they said they did. Did they lie to sabotage me? I know one of them hated me since I wouldn't help him cheat." Dr. Schway sat silently listening to the justifications Anya was making, she had seen this enough in her time. Back in Anya's head, her thoughts were spiraling and anger was evident on her face. This test was dumb. So so dumb. So what the nation was having trouble with birth rates, why does that her problem? If she didn't have the stupid socialization aspect of college she could do a research project in cloning and gene replication...but no there were stupid Sexual Competence mandates. Anya's world started to spin as she realized her future was going to be taken from her and looked at her advisor silently begging for a lifeline.

Dr. Schway hated seeing the look of defeat on the young genius' face and decided to be a bit kinder. "Anya, you were not sabotaged. We reviewed the footage and their comments. They line up.

"Comments?" Anya questioned while wiping a tear from her eye. Her rattled mind had glossed over the fact that she had been recorded, that bit made sense.

Feeling sympathetic the doctor decided to be more patient and explain things slowly, obviously, the thought of failing was damaging to her young protege. "The test is scored a bit differently than you are probably used to. It isn't a test of knowledge per se," the advisor started, only to stop when she saw the look of confused indignation that peppered the coed's face. Sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose the doctor continued, silently deciding if she should cancel her meetings to console the young lady. "The test is a test of adaptability in a situation. Your partners describe you as someone who could not adjust and did everything described in the book. They said you got visibly angry when they wanted you to deviate," the doctor explained.

Annoyed Anya decided to defend herself, "But it's a test, right? That means there is a right way which I followed from the guides and videos that were provided. Shouldn't they be wrong by deviating? I mean no where does it say that my partner should spank me or switch positions suddenly." The arguments she put forth made perfect sense to Anya, but unfortunately, they were wrong.

"Look Anya," the Doctor started with rapidly deteriorating patience, "Yes the guides we give for independent study students do have a general list of instructions and things to look out for. However, there are a variety of people that do not like those things. That is what we test, the ability to be with a partner and ultimately help them get off. This is information that is presented multiple times through the documents and in the instructor-led courses."

Frowning Anya threw up another weak defense, "Then how am I supposed to know if it isn't a part of the curriculum? Shouldn't I get a guide on my partner with specifics, wouldn't that be simpler? Whoever designed this system needs to have their credentials revoked."

"I'll bring that up at my next review," Dr. Schway remarked which brought a look of shame onto Anya's face. She was fully done with treating the smart, yet cocky young lady with kid gloves. "Anya there is no rule saying that you can't ask your partner what they like."

Anya interjected still emotional, "Fine. I'll schedule with a new partner and ask them what they like."

"That still doesn't solve the issue of your skill gap. Your partners describe you as robotic at best, and a dead fish at worst. I think that even following the instructions you would still miss the mark," Dr. Schway clarified feeling herself soften just a bit.

"Then it's hopeless?" Anya murmured while bowing her head. Her brown curls swept in front of her face, and she looked truly sad. From her perspective, she was doomed and was struggling to find out how she was going to continue. Dr. Schway slammed her hands on the desk which shocked Anya into looking at her.

"Young lady it is not hopeless, far from it. I am going to reach out to a tutor who specializes in helping young ladies study and prep for the exam. He has a packed schedule but he is probably the best tutor we have. He is very diligent and I'm sure if you listen to him you will pass." Dr. Schway said hoping to spark some hope in her young protege. There was silence between them for barely a second before her computer chimed with a new email alert. "Oh great, he says he can fit you in. Be at the Newton Dorms room 513 tonight at 9 pm." the advisor delivered with a smile. Anya nodded, not excited at having to give up study time but knowing her future depended on fulfilling this one stupid requirement. "Good now please go decompress, buy yourself a drink or something." Anya got up and was almost out the door when Dr. Schway delivered one final piece of advice, "Please wear something short. You have nice legs, don't be afraid to show them off." Anya nodded and left to go figure things out.

Anya walked down the hallway looking around as she passed many a closed door with music coming from many and moans from a few. She had been searching for some time and felt as if she was walking around in circles. The Newton Dorms were newer and didn't have the straightforward layout of the smaller dorms, instead, it was a crisscross of hallways that revolved around two large common spaces and study rooms. Coming upon one of the common spaces she darted to the corner where a floor layout was present. Studying the mounted map she jumped when she felt a tap on her shoulder. "Excuse me do you need help?" a soft but deep feminine voice said. Turning around Anya saw a tall redhead looking down at her. The woman wore a sweatshirt that draped over her frame, while her frizzy red hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. Her face was flush and a little red, almost as if the girl had just gotten through some type of vigorous exercise. Anya thought she smelled something funny too...maybe it was sweat or something else? She shrugged it off though.

Swallowing Anya decided she needed the help, "Um yeah. I'm looking for room 513, do you know where it is?" The girl's green eyes sparkled with recognition and her mouth slipped into a sly smile.

"Oh yeah, it's back down that hall. Go all the way down and make a right. It will be a couple of doors down," the woman said.

"Thank you," Anya mumbled and left.

"Enjoy yourself," the woman said in a cheery voice with more than a hint of subtext. Following the instructions, Anya came to the door and knocked. She felt nervous as she straightened out her blouse and dusted off her skirt. She had taken Dr. Schway's advice and wore her shortest skirt, which still came down to her slightly above her knee. It was tight but still allowed her to move. Her look was completed with a white blouse and a pair of sensible black heels. She felt that she looked good and portrayed the image of someone serious about her studies. She had even gone the extra mile and applied a bit of makeup to make her eyes pop. It would be best if this tutor knew she was serious and paying attention to him.

"One sec," came a deep voice from beyond the door. Anya sat for a moment more before the door opened. Staring down at her was a humongous black man giving a pleasant smile from behind a neatly kept small beard. His biceps strained the sleeves of his black t-shirt and she felt like she could see each muscle as he sat there. Looking away she saw the outline of his manhood pushing against the fabric of his pants. The man seemed shameless, and Anya felt her opinion of him drop slightly. He looked more like some sort of athlete than the tutor, Anya had thought she would get someone studious and she hoped her face hid her disappointment. "So you're my 9 o'clock, huh, you know you're late" he informed her. Anya glanced at her watch seeing that she was indeed late by seven minutes. "C'mon in," the large man said while holding the door open for her.

Anya accepted the invitation and as soon as she walked in her jaw dropped. This wasn't the normal on-campus apartment she was used to. Instead, it was a full apartment that seemed to belong to one person only. The place was tastefully furnished and had two sofas, a large TV, and a small coffee table. Anya looked around and saw a desk and bookshelf off in the corner, both were neatly maintained with several school textbooks. There were some posters on the wall of famous paintings complete with cheap frames. The entire place felt so much more adult than any dorm Anya had been in, even though it just had nicer furniture. Feeling awkward just standing there she thought of the only thing she could, "Um nice place."

"Thanks make yourself at home," the man said in the same voice that seemed both calming and exciting all at once, "I'm Marcel by the way.". Anya found herself sitting on one of the couches hearing him move around the space. He came back for a brief second to place a glass of water in front of her and went to the desk only to return with his own cup and a tablet. Taking the seat across from her he was now wearing glasses and scrolling through with an intense gaze. "Okay, Anya Rachel... I mean Dr. Schway tells me you're failing," he started while staring at her.

The word failing was like a knife through her heart, and she blushed as she spoke, "Y-yes apparently I failed the Practical Sexual Experiences qualifying exam."

"Yeah, you got some pretty harsh comments in the review they sent over," Marcel mentioned. Anya blushed as she looked away in shame. She didn't want to overstep and lash out like she did with Dr. Schway, especially considering how reassuring the man was. Even though her curls obscured her face, Marcel recognized the look of someone who was a bit embarrassed. Rachel had warned him that this student could be a bit headstrong and arrogant, but from where he was sitting he couldn't tell. Smiling and ready to live up to his reputation Marcel went into his usual speech, "Those comments don't really matter. They are just opinions."

"Yeah opinions that control my life," Anya sniffled.

Seeing the distress that was building in his student Marcel decided to act, "Hey cutie, focus on me. No feeling sorry for yourself." The words were delivered in a tone that suggested they were orders, not a suggestion. Anya felt them in her chest and straitened up, meeting the soft gaze of her tutor. "Cool," Marcel started again, "Now tell me how you usually study."

Anya looked for a moment studying his face hoping that the question was just a dumb joke. She read the book, how else would she have studied? "I reviewed the course materials, watched some of the instructional videos, and went into the test."

Marcel's face twisted into one of understanding, and he followed up with another question, "No practical tests I take it?" He already knew the answer to the question from reviewing her file, but he just wanted to make sure. Being thorough was how he earned himself a great tutoring position.

"Practical, you mean like a hook-up?" Anya asked with disgust evident in her voice. That told Marcel everything he needed to know.

"Okay then I'll take that as a no," he whispered while writing some notes on the tablet, "That's a surprise."

Anya heard the remark and quirked her head. Her bright blue eyes shined with curiosity as she asked, "Sur-surprising how?"

Unashamed Marcel explained himself, "Cute face. Nice legs and you seem like someone who knows what she wants. I figured someone would've scooped you up. Doesn't matter makes things a little less complicated." Anya was going to ask what he meant but was cut off as he continued. "Okay. I think I know how to help you. You're pretty by the book which is nice if your partner is too, but fails when your partner isn't. You're smart, how many people do you think are by the book?" Anya twisted her face in contemplation but wasn't given the chance to answer, "The question was rhetorical Anya." Nodding she waited for him to finish. "Usually with my type of tutoring I favor a practical approach. I think that's best for you considering that's your weak point." Marcel stood up and without breaking a sweat he grabbed the ends of the coffee table and moved it out of the way.

Anya's eyes widened at the display of strength. She knew that sometimes guys liked to show off, but this didn't seem like it. Marcel wasn't doing some stupid trick, the thick wooden table was a hindrance to him and he moved it. Anya squeezed her thighs together as he moved it to the other side of the room. Watching how his arms flexed as they held the weight, and for the briefest second, she wondered how they would feel. Would they be rock hard or would there be some softness to them? What happened if he really flexed and let her feel them up? She squeezed her thighs again as she shifted on the couch, waiting for his quick return with uncharacteristic excitement. "Okay Anya like I said, I like the practical approach. But before we can really get the tutoring on the way I have to do the initial evaluation," Marcel instructed as he made his way back in front of her. "Ready when you are," he said with the barest hint of excitement in his voice.

It was at that moment that the poor student became truly aware of the situation she was in. Here she was in the same room as a man. A sexy black man whose job it was to teach her about the practicality of sex. Her face resembled a tomato as she looked up at him. He stared back expecting her to do God knows what. After a moment of tension, she found her voice, "I-I'm sorry but what am I supposed to do?" He wouldn't think less of her for asking the question, would he? Worry filled her stomach and bubbled up until it gripped her heart and she started to clench the fabric of her skirt in her hands. "This reaction...this was the reason she didn't pass," she rationalized.

Marcel realized things wouldn't start with Anya, and like a true professional he made the first move. "Hey, no need to be nervous. This is just the intake exam alright? No pressure just start like you normally would."

The ball was now in her court, but that didn't make Anya less nervous. Suddenly all the knowledge from the curriculum left her brain and she felt embarrassed at not knowing the answer to the unasked question. Her clenched fists kept a death grip on her skirt and her throat got dry. The world heated up around her as she kept searching her mind for specific answers that danced away as soon as she thought of them. As the seconds turned to days in the poor coed's head she reached for the only thing that came to mind, "Um h-how do you feel about kissing?" It felt stupid and childish to ask. A guy like this, a sex tutor probably didn't care about kissing much. He had tricks and expectations that she was falling short of, and that was a sign of the failure she would become. As tears pooled in the corners of her eyes she felt a pressure on her chin and found her head being firmly guided so it was tilted up and looking up at Marcel. He had bent forward and was giving a reassuring smile. "Kissing isn't a bad way to start," he chuckled.

"Oh okay," Anya said in relief glancing away from her tutor. When she looked her mind went blank refusing to process anything except for the fact that Marcel was now kissing her. His lips felt nice against her and her mind focused on the feeling. The kiss flooded her body with fire and she found herself returning it with equal vigor. She was sloppy and not the best, but Marcel enjoyed her effort. Back in Anya's head thought had been restored and she was panicking. Was she kissing well enough? She tried moving her head like she saw in the videos and silently prayed she was doing well. Marcel thought her movement was strange and made the mental note to correct her on that. For now, he took hold of her chin and kept her still. The woman got the hint and tried to deepen the kiss. Feeling the heat in her chest sink low into her stomach she did what felt natural, slipping her tongue in she allowed herself to truly enjoy her first real hookup.