Taking Econ 1

Taking Econ 1 -

On the first day of class, Esme and I sat next to each other in row 23 of the Econ 1 classroom. It was an unremarkable thing for two not very remarkable students to do in a stacked lecture hall in a seventy-five year old university building that had seen better days.

"Hi, I'm David Smith. "

"I'm Esme Phillips. Are you taking this for distribution requirements?"

"Yes. I see that we get the newest prof in the Econ Dept. Do you suppose that is good or bad?"

"Hard to say. But how would you like to go around with the name, Reginald Bourne-Jameson?"

"Just call me Reggie!" I smiled. Esme poked her elbow at me.

A very cultured English voice filled the room. "Good morning. I've been told that this is a very popular course because you have to take it for most undergraduate majors, and because my predecessor graded very high."

He let a long silence fill the room.

"I would like to suggest that we need to change that tradition. There are several good reasons, but I'll just point out one. College used to be cheap, but it isn't any more. There are a very few of you who are working your way through. For the rest, either your family or your bank is financing your time here. Do you hear that meter running? That little quiet ding, ding, ding? That's dollars flowing from you to the school, to this department, and even a few to me. I'm going to teach this course as though I cared about what you are paying. I hope that you will do me the honor of working hard and getting personal value from what you are paying."

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Esme at work with a charcoal pencil on a sketch pad. A very realistic likeness of Reggie was taking form.

I quickly wrote down on my pad, "Professor Bourne-Jameson asking for hard work in Econ 1."

I nudged her, "Nice. It needs a caption." I pointed to what I had written.

She carefully printed the caption at the bottom in a beautiful hand. Then looked up at me with questioning eyes.

I wrote, "Perfect. Can I buy it?"

Thus began a partnership that grew into something surprising and remarkable. During each class, Esme would draw the Professor and I would take the class notes while she sketched. It was my responsibility to come up with an appropriate caption. Usually we waited until he did or said something memorable and then I got the caption down and she built the sketch around the caption. Reggie had a wonderful collection of one-liners that made the caption easy on most days.

Starting with the students in the rows behind us, who could see the drawings taking shape, Esme had many admirers asking if they could buy one. She decided not to take money, but she did tell them, "This is only for you, you can't sell it."

One morning, Carol Cornellis, the editor of the student paper, came over and said, "Everyone is talking about your wonderful sketches of Professor Bourne-Jameson. Would you mind if I put one in the Daily? I think it would get a lot of attention."

Esme looked at me, and I looked at her. We shrugged. I said, "I guess not. It's just fun for us. Do you have to get his permission?"

"Technically no, he's a public figure and we are non-commercial. But if it is well received, I think we should ask him if we can print more. Ok?"

There was a take home midterm before the next class, which was very fortunate for Esme and me. We studied together and bombed the test. When the cartoon appeared in the Daily to great acclaim, Esme and I were in his course book with A's.

The next morning in class, Reggie was hysterically funny about manipulation of interest rates and sleazy banking practices. We had a great sketch and a great caption. But as he wrapped up the day's lecture, he said, "Would Esme and David please come down to the front? And please bring today's sketch."

We descended slowly, fearing the worst. Esme handed over the sketch, which he studied and then broke into a wide grin. "Excellent!" He turned it around so the class could see and the first row broke into applause.

Reggie said, "Not only are they good artists, Esme and David got A's on the midterm. What do you think class, should I sanction this foolishness for a while longer?"

Wild clapping. He turned to us, "There's your answer." Esme and I hugged. As everyone filed out, Reggie said, "Could I buy you lunch on Saturday? I'd like to talk some more about your project." We nodded and he said, "Watch for an email from me. I'll pick a place and time."

Later that day, Esme got a call from Carol, who said twenty other campus papers wanted to reprint the sketches. "There's not a lot of money involved. After our expenses, I could give you $500 for each one that is published and syndicated."

Esme was hopping up and down. "Carol, that's wonderful!" She filled her in on Professor Bourne-Jones' conversation with the class, and that we had a green light to continue.

As we walked out, I had my arm around Esme and said, "Do you suppose I could get a date with you sometime?"

She gave me a sidewise look and replied, "It took you long enough. Is there something wrong with me?"

I stammered around and finally said, "Esme, I'm just such a dope, could we go out somewhere and maybe you can teach me about dating?"

She pushed me into the alcove we were passing and put her hands on my shoulders. Slowly she leaned in and kissed me hard. I almost died, but her lips were so nice I didn't want to stop and kissed back.

"Hmm. You may have some potential. I am housesitting for my dad. Come at six tomorrow for dinner. Bring a nice bottle of white wine. Wear a short sleeved shirt, khakis, and moccasins." She took my phone and put the address in, along with phone numbers for her mobile and her dad's house.

That night I thought about the wine demand. She knew I would get carded at the liquor store. Must be some devious trick to see how resourceful I was. I checked in with the senior who was head of our frat house and he agreed. "Very devious. I'll send someone. Give me thirty bucks, that should cover a decent bottle of white."

Leaving nothing to chance, I left early on Friday afternoon and had to circle a couple of times before going up the driveway at one minute to six.

She was dressed for a casual date, with just enough makeup to bring out the highlights in her eyes and face. I was carefully inspected as we went inside and she showed the way to the kitchen. Tying on an apron, she pulled the chilled wine out of its sack and looked at the label. "Hmmm. Chateau Montelena. My dad would say you have good taste. It should go well with the shrimp fettuccini."

I was directed to sit while she poured us glasses of already opened wine and finished preparing the dinner. I was entranced and tongue tied.

She looked at me curiously, "Cat got your tongue? What do you suppose Reggie wants to talk about?"

I said, nervously, "Most junior professors are desperate to get a book contract. It's important for promotion and they need the money, too. What if he is thinking about something to get across the basics of Econ 1 and wants you to illustrate it for him?"

She turned the heat down on the shrimp sauce, sipped her wine and insinuated herself between my legs and the counter. She had perfume on and I was sinking fast. Before I knew what was happening, the tip of her tongue was tracing my lips and demanding entrance. Not many seconds later we were in a tight embrace and the kiss was to die for.

She stepped back and said, "Better. Much better. There is hope for you. And I like your idea about Reggie and his book. What can we do to get ready?"

"He is a British import, so probably wants his own approach to the material. There are a zillion Econ texts out there, so we need to help with a fresh approach."

I wrapped my arm around her and grasped a generous breast as firmly as I could. She pushed her behind into my crotch and said, "Practicing what you preach, are we?" I nibbled at the back of her neck and played with the stiff nipple under my fingers.

She whispered, "Your technique is crude, but I am warming up. Let's have dinner and work on Reggie's book some more."

I turned her around and kissed softly. "You are being awfully nice to me. What gives?"

She gave me a look and went on with serving the dinner. "You can take these to the patio table. And open the wine you brought."

We stared at each other over the table and I toasted the "world's best sketch artist."

She took a slow sip and nodded. "Excellent. Two brownie points." She had a narrow face with high cheekbones that played to her expressive eyes, which were full of a mischievous look.

She dodged my question by saying, "You know how authors put quotations at the beginning of book chapters? What if Reggie's chapters had provocative titles, and there was a sketch to go with them?"

Dessert was in her room, on her bed. The berries had dessert wine on them and were superb.

She collected the dishes to the side table and arranged herself over my legs with the bed throw over her.

"You are sleeping over. My dad is gone for a week."

She was wiggling around under the blanket and tossed her pants and briefs to the floor Her hand was running up my thigh and finding a hard thing buried in the crotch.

She crawled up into my arms and applied a long, wet kiss. My hands roamed over her bare behind, fingers digging in and pulling her against my cock.

"I've only had sex once before and it wasn't much. You are supposed to change that. Take your clothes off."

In a minute, we were both bare and back under the cover. She pressed herself to me, and my hands roamed everywhere on the willing body.

I toughened up my voice and said, "You know how I take my women?"

She shivered. I couldn't tell whether it was a fake or not. "I get in bed with them and fall asleep. When they least suspect it, in the dark of the night, they are fucked until they scream and scream."

She jerked and cuddled with me. "You actually mean that, don't you?"

"I've never had a beautiful, smart, talented girl feed me an incredible meal and offer her body. Tell me this isn't a dream."

"I'm sleepy too. We are really going to do it in the middle of the night?"

"Do you like it fast and hard, or slow and lovey?"

"Do I have to choose? We have all weekend to find out."

I wrapped her in my arms and was asleep before any more questions.

There was a slim sliver of moon shining through her bedroom window shade. It was two-thirty and I was wide awake. And I was very erect. Esme's breathing changed and I could tell she was awake by the wiggle in her ass against my cock. I reached out and raised her leg so I could slide myself between her thighs. My arm went around her and under the tee shirt.

"Are you going to ask or anything?"

"I thought I was supposed to wake up and take you, violently, if necessary."

"But you don't even know if we are compatible. A couple of kisses isn't much to go on."

I put fingers where my cock was and found a very leaky pussy. "I don't know about your fine mind, but your body wants me." I didn't wait for any more conversation but just pushed on in from where we lay. I wondered if she had had sex with someone who did a stealth entry like I just finished. Esme was moaning quietly, and whispered, "Keep going. This is nice. Sex by moonlight, just lying here letting you have your way with me. I may have to sign up for more."

After a few minutes, it was still nice, but nothing was happening. I said, "You do have orgasms, don't you?"

"I knew you would ask that. Only once in a while. My mom said she was that way too."

"Is it because you aren't getting enough of the right kind of cock, or...?"

She pulled away and turned over. I maneuvered her on top and kissed her as passionately as I could. The next thing I knew her head was in the crook of my shoulder and she was crying at the same time she was mashing her wet pussy against my slippery cock.

"Oh David, I am so screwed up! Teasing around with you when what I really want is a good hard fuck. Please get back in there and show me what I need!"

This was more like it. My cock loved exploring her tight cunt, and she bucked back at him. I talked dirty to her. "Esme, you've been having lousy sex with those fraternity guys who don't know what they are doing. You need an obnoxious bastard like me to give you a good fuck. You are going to come, and then you are going to come some more."

She was moaning loudly when I pulled back and got her on hands and knees. Smack! smack! smack! "Lazy cunt, hurry up and come." I drove hard, all the way, my balls banging on her ass.

"Oh god, oh no, ohhhh." She was coming in a big way, moans and cries and screams. I waited until she was well into it and then fountained a full load of my best stuff. Shouting and cursing.

After a few minutes, she said. "I came... More than once."

I ran my hand lovingly up and down her back, squeezing the hard globes of her behind, and mumbling in her ear that she was fantastic. My stuff was leaking out and she squirmed around in the mess between her legs. "God, you really did it to me. Am I your woman now?"

I kept her body pressed tightly to me and my mouth at her ear said, "Maybe I don't deserve you, but we just proved we are compatible. Do you happen to need a boyfriend?"

She twisted around and jammed her tongue in my mouth. The kiss went on for a long time. "A boyfriend? I don't know about that. What if you asked me to marry you and we got engaged?"

I just about fainted in shock. The smartest, prettiest, sexiest girl in school just asked me to propose to her!

She kissed me again and said, "You are supposed to say something." She was on top now. My cock was hard and she was rubbing on it.

"You're not teasing are you? You did just suggest I ask you to marry me?"

"Has your hearing gone bad? How many times do I have to repeat myself?" Her teeth nipped at me, and her hand grabbed my cock and squeezed hard. "Do I have your attention?"

I grabbed her and walked us to the shower, swatting the muscular behind as I went.

The shower was noisily blasting us, but I said, "You asked if you were my woman. The answer is definitely yes." I soaped her all over and bent her down so my cock could check the rear entry.

"Yes, yes. More."

I pinched her nipples and thrust hard as she wailed and came again.

I toweled her off and took her back to bed to work on her hair. I kept having to put the brush down and rub lotion on the gorgeous tits.

She leaned back and said, "We need to check for messages from Reggie."

"He'll try to hit on you."

"Do I get to flirt with professors who might buy our sketches?"

"Only if I get to keep doing this."

"I'm all messed up. I don't want to flirt with Reggie, I want to flirt with you. We skipped over a lot of steps on the way to an engagement. Can we back up and have a few hot dates?"

"You just want to say I can't play with your tits on a first date." I let the silence build and added, "Yes, we should have hot dates. It will be fun. Am I supposed to look for a ring in the meantime? What about your folks?"

"Hmmm. My mom and dad dated for two years before he proposed."

"Two years!"

Esme was stretching and rolling her delicious self on me, humming. My hands ran up and down her back and muscular butt. "You've got me in two weeks..."

"Are you coming along when I look for a ring?"

"How many carets?" Now we were in a real wrestle and she was winning. How do you fight with a girl you just proposed to?

"It ought to be either small or large, not something in the middle that means he had some money but not enough."

"What about a white gold band?" She had my hands up between my shoulder blades and was bouncing on my butt.

"What message does that send?"

"That I am your special woman, who appreciates an unconventional sign of our love." She released my hands and lay on me, licking my ear, making low growls and noises.

"You are behaving like our family cat up there."

"I'm thinking what I am going to say to my mom. She will be pleased. She makes these little suggestions about how finding a guy in college is probably a good idea. Do you think finding a girl in college is a good idea?"

I groaned and pulled a pillow over my head. "Don't hide from me. You are supposed to be very loving right now. After all, you just proposed."

"It's still dark out. I can't think in the dark." I hid my giggle under the pillow.

The sun was shining when I opened my eyes. No Esme. But I heard a small scratching. I turned over and found her in a chair most of the way across the bedroom. She had her sketch pad and was busily at work.

"Don't move." I collapsed back into my former position and closed my eyes.

After a few minutes, she said, "Ok, go make us some coffee while I finish this."

The coffee was dripping and I was taking aspirin because my head was complaining about last night's fine wine. I was pretty sure I got engaged, but things were hazy. I was more than sure there had been great sex with Esme.

I was sipping my brew when she appeared next to me and lay down the sketch. "You have to provide the caption. I'm going to give it to my mother, so think hard."

It was some of her best work. David stretched out in bed, recognizably hers because of the poster on the wall above. The sheet draped over his lower back, bum and legs. His torso captured perfectly, with arms holding down a pillow over his head, a few strands of long hair showing.

"You're kidding... "

After a minute, I had it. "Ok, the caption is, 'David, in my bed after proposing.' "

She hopped up and down, "Perfect! Just perfect. She won't know what hit her."

"Is this going to get us into trouble?"

"Of course. But she will calm down, especially when she starts trying to figure out what your position means."

"You mean, suggesting I've decided it's all a bad idea and how do I get out of this mess?"

"Yes! Exactly." She kissed my ear and tangled her fingers in my hair. "You don't regret proposing to me?"

I nuzzled the boob that was close to my face and said, "No. Not a bit. You and I seem to be good for each other. You sure you want to get married right now?"

"Maybe not. Let's see how the families take all this."

We had some breakfast and checked the email. Sure enough, there was a note from Reggie suggesting a 10 am meeting at a coffee shop near campus.

"Why don't you do a quick sketch of the cover of his textbook, with his name lettered on it."

"You have to come up with a title, while I do it." She had on a maroon tee that looked fabulous. With her hair in a ponytail, she shook it at me and laughed. My hands went up the inside of the shirt and got a firm hold on the marvelous boobs. I kissed her neck. "Maybe we should go back to bed first."

The elbow was sharp. "Artist at work. Bug off."

I mulled over possible titles. "Economics - New Approaches for a New Century." Pretty limp. "Economics - A New Perspective." Hmm. Would sound intriguing. Would drive potential readers to see whose new perspective.

I got fresh coffee for the two of us and tiptoed back in, placing her cup on the table where she was working. "You can stay, I'm almost done."

She looked up and sipped the coffee. "Well?"

"What about 'Economics - A New Perspective.' "

She chewed her pencil and said, "Good enough for this trial. We don't even know this is what he is up to."

It was a nice day, and the artist led the way into the coffee shop in a summery yellow dress that looked great on her. Reggie was by the window, with space for all of us.

"Hi, thanks for coming. Please sit down."

Coffee and a flaky pastry came and we chatted aimlessly for a few minutes. He confessed that the class was more of a challenge than he had expected. "You all are brighter than I thought, and even working harder than I thought."