Term Paper Blues

Tanja sat down on the sofa and began drying off. "Yes, I did get it at Goodwill. It's a disguise. I wanted to fool them since I never wear one. And I've been planning to stop bleaching my hair anyway. It was making it fall out."

She looked at the books strewn across the table, all by the same author.

"So what's your paper about?'

"I'm still struggling with that. I'm hoping to get some inspiration shortly. I've been completely blocked. For days now. Do you have that black molly?" Boy, if she was scamming him on that, he was going to push her back out into the rain.

"Sure, here it is." She dropped it in Andrew's outstretched hand. "I know it's the only reason you let me come over tonight, but that doesn't change the fact I can't thank you enough for giving me a place to lay low until tomorrow morning. Then I'll be out of your life forever."

"Well, we both had something that the other one needed. I'd say the thanks are mutual."

Andrew threw the pill into the back of his throat and washed it down with the lukewarm remains of his Coke.

"So who's this Faulkner guy? He wrote all these books?"

"He's one of the most important American fiction writers. A giant of twentieth century literature."

"Why's that?"

"A lot of things. He was very prolific, wrote short stories, novels, poetry, novellas, screenplays. He was an influential figure of the modernist period, using experimental forms of fiction: multiple narrators, interior monologue, shifts in narrative time. And stream of consciousness."

"I don't really understand what you're talking about."

"Well, his subject matter, too. Almost all his work dealt with the South, in particular the decline of Southern life after the Civil War. And after the turn of the century. He gave readers a look at a way of life unique to the South. And its conflicts of class, racism, poverty, man versus nature."

"That's your problem right there. No offense, Andrew, but you're the biggest Yankee I've ever met. No wonder you can't get it. You weren't born here."

"I've been in school here four years now," he countered. "And I've gotten a lot of insight about the South from Faulkner. It's been transformative."

"So that's why he's famous? Even the most clueless Yankee like you can understand the South after reading his stuff."

"I guess you could say that. I knew very little about the history and culture of this part of the country. I got a little taste of his work in high school, and now I've read all these books you see here—most more than once. They've made me see a South that's still in the grip of the aftereffects of slavery and their military loss to the North. But has a hope for a different future."

"OK, I promise I won't bother you. I know you need to get going on this. Can I read one of his books? Maybe I could learn something, too. I've lived here all my life, but my grandparents were from the Old Country. They fled to America right before The War."

Tanja reached over and picked up Andrew's old paperback Signet edition ofSanctuary. The one with the lurid cover like a trashy '50s detective novel.

"This looks interesting. I could use a distraction about now."

"No, that's not a good choice." Certainly not for a woman who was worried about becoming a sex slave. Andrew grabbedGo Down Moses and turned to "The Bear." "This one's about a bear hunt. It's one of his more famous short stories."

It was past midnight. Tanja looked so worn out; she probably wouldn't make it through the first section.

"Thanks. If you need it back, just let me know. I may fall asleep soon anyway. Wake me up fifteen minutes before you head out."

"I need to leave here no later than 7:30 tomorrow morning. That's assuming I have something to turn in."

"You seem like a smart guy, Andrew. You'll figure it out. And that pill should help."

A few minutes later she was on her side, fast asleep. Andrew reached over and carefully lifted the book from her hands. He couldn't help but notice a nice exposure of cleavage as she lay there on the sofa.

As he waited for the molly to kick in, Andrew felt a surge of paranoia wash over him. What if those guys were outside? Waiting for things to settle down before they burst in. They wouldn't know he planned to stay up all night. If they smashed down the door, what would he do? He got up and moved her stuff and placed it up against the door.

Andrew started to feel the effects of the speed ramping up. Oh, what a glorious sensation. She was right: he wouldn't have let her come over if she hadn't offered the molly. Let her fend for herself out in the jungle. But she was here now, asleep on his sofa. Once all his animosity and condescending labels for her were put aside, it was another human being in serious trouble, one who needed his help. Was there anyone he knew that would put themselves on the line for him if he were mixed up in something dangerous like Tanja?

Maybe she was completely innocent. Maybe it was Ethan who corrupted her, got her hooked, put her in peril due to his weakness and stupidity. He was the only one he knew who had gone over to the dark side of hard drug use. And why? Ethan had more going for him than any of his other friends.

And then, just like that, it hit. The "a-ha" moment. A bolt of inspiration. What Tanja had said. About him and Faulkner and the South. How he had gotten such rich insights from reading Faulkner's prose that it opened the window of understanding about the South. That was the hook he could hang his analysis on. But it had to be written in the first person. It was avery risky ploy for an academic paper, but he felt confident.

Ideas pinged around in his head. Lots of ideas, insights, creative angles, connections. Pouring out of nowhere. Bits and pieces of dialogue and prose from every book laid themselves out in front of him. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to harness and categorize so many thoughts, but an intangible force took over the process. It was like a hurricane in reverse had lifted up chaos and set down perfection and order.

A working outline quickly fell into place. Andrew churned out a first draft as the hours melted away. There were almost too many great ideas to fit in. He made several passes to edit the draft, then polished a final version. After the second proofread, he locked it down and was ready to print. He looked over at the clock: 6:15 AM.

Tanja's sleeping body stirred as the printer's mechanism started up. Andrew saw a button pop off the front of her dress, allowing a breast to almost fall out. A surge of blood stiffened his penis. He knew that speed made him horny, often requiring several jerk-off sessions during an all-nighter. If Tanja wasn't there, he'd probably want to rub out a quick one—or two—before heading out. He carefully retrieved the button and put it on the table where she could find it.

After he put together the first copy, he realized he had time to print a second one for himself. While each page slowly worked its way through the printer, he gazed down at Tanja's bosom, nearly spilling forth from her dress, and contemplated his limited sexual history.

In high school he had a knack for stumbling into dates with the dwindling subset of women who were saving themselves for marriage. Not even a hand job, much less anything nastier. How did he manage to always end up with "good girls" that didn't want to put out?

Fortunately, the first week of college fixed that. He nervously crawled in bed with Macy Nylander, a fellow freshman he'd met at an orientation week mixer. She was a genuine free spirit about sharing her body; he didn't let on he was a virgin. Although the first night was awkward, they dated a few more times; but she eventually got bored with his callowness. He spent the rest of the school year in a sexless wasteland.

Things picked up that summer when he began an unexpected torrid affair with Zandra Meadows, a senior class favorite who had ignored him in high school. They were both volunteers on a grassroots political effort her mother had some involvement with. He was stunned that a popular student like her was interested in a math club nerd like him. She was actually a rule-breaking wild child, orchestrating their first fuck in her parents' living room while they were out of town. That was when she introduced him to oral sex, going both directions. Andrew became a big fan of cunnilingus after that, almost as much as being on the receiving end himself.

Their only opportunity for screwing was during summer breaks and school holidays. He figured she wasn't being exclusive when she went back to her college, but he tried not to think about it. Andrew's love life was non-existent during the school term. None of the other women he could have dated measured up to Zandra, so he ended up being celibate by default. This went on for two years until she broke up with him right before he went back for his senior year. He really missed her.

The only sex he'd had recently was the occasional fling with Naomi Stevens, a plain-looking fellow nerd who was in some of his math classes. They were "friends with benefits." Naomi was probably using sex to counter her low self-esteem; she always phoned him. He knew other guys in the math department had been to bed with her. It bothered him when they made fun of her for being so available. Naomi had several demands when it came to sex: she insisted on doing it at her place, lights off, and with most of her clothes still on. But she was quite enthusiastic once her conditions were met, although she was very narrow in her sexual repertoire. Naomi was usually up for a little fellatio, but she was much too self-conscious to allow a man to go down on her. Too bad.

All three had one thing in common: they were all small up top. Not like the busty women in the nudie magazines and porno videos he had seen. Or like the busty woman who was asleep on his couch right then. He turned away to watch the other pages print out so he wouldn't have to look at Tanja's almost exposed titty. Or think about what he'd like to do to her.

The noise of the printer finally woke Tanja. It took a few cloudy moments before she realized where she was and how she got there. Andrew had his back to her as he printed out his report. There was already a finished copy on the coffee table in front of her. She could see the title: "A Massachusetts Yankee in William Faulkner's South" by Andrew Vinson, English 436, Dr. Kenneth Darden ...

She hoisted herself on one elbow to get a better look and her left breast spilled out. What the fuck? She saw her button sitting next to the report and realized what had happened. She wondered how much he'd seen. But she also felt a sharp surge of sexual desire for Andrew, knowing it was his courage that gave her a hiding place from the drug gang. A surge that snaked around her thighs and flowed down from her breasts, converging strongly in the depths of her pussy.

She pushed her boob back inside her dress, but she really wanted to tear the damn rag off altogether and present herself to Andrew. Tanja felt a swell of wetness between her legs, for the first time in ages. She hadn't been with a man for much too long. But she doubted Andrew wanted to be seduced by a junkie stripper, ex or otherwise. She would have to be clever about it.

"Andrew, it looks like you were successful with your paper. Is it any good?"

"Tanja, I have you to thank." He gathered up the printed pages and began assembling the second copy. "You gave me the idea for the subject. You saved my ass, big time. And the black molly. If you hadn't called, I'd be asleep with no paper started. And no graduation ceremony."

He looked over at her. The missing button revealed an astonishing amount of cleavage. "I can't thank you enough, Tanja," he added, hoping his erection wasn't too obvious.

"I've got an idea how we can thank each other," Tanja said. She stood up and approached him, slipping her arms around Andrew's waist and pulling him closer. She glanced at the clock. "It looks like we have plenty of time."

"Umm ... 7:30 was a drop-dead time. We should leave before then."

"Were you going to park in the student lot? I can give you a ride, drive you right up to your building. You can find a way back, can't you?"

Andrew knew where this was headed. It was all he could do to keep from throwing her back down on the sofa and pushing up her skirt. But there was no way he was going to have sex with a former IV drug user. Even if he had a condom, he still wasn't sure about oral sex, giving or receiving.

"There may not be enough time, Tanja."

"C'mon, we've got over an hour." Tanja pressed her waist against his, feeling a solid column of arousal inside his jeans. "Part of you is telling me this is a good idea," she teased.

Tanja realized what was holding him back. She reached down and pulled the clinic's envelope from her purse.

"This is the last piece of mail I got." She unfolded the report and handed it to him. "I'm very lucky. I was clean on my six weeks AIDS test before. This is my three month test. I'm still negative."

Andrew looked over the letter:

Parkland Clinic ... Tomczyk, Tanja ... Age: 24 ... Immunology ... HIV 1 & 2: non-reactive ...

"I've been celibate since going into rehab. I had a battery of STD tests along with my six weeks AIDS test. All negative. I know, you'd be taking my word for it ... the celibacy. And the other test results." He continued to look over the lab report.

"Andrew, how about this? Safe sex only. No fucking or oral. Just get each other off with our hands. I'm guessing you might be really horny on that black molly. Ready to screw the entire cheerleader squad."

Andrew looked up and smiled. "At least twice."

Tanja pulled herself closer. Andrew could feel her stiff nipples through their thin clothes. It seemed a little silly at that point to go with his earlier plan of disappearing into the bathroom and tossing off a quick one.

"Tanja, I sometimes have trouble finishing when I'm speeding like this."

"Don't worry. I know a few things."

Tanja contemplated what was about to happen. Shereally needed to get off. And she wanted to get off right. What if Andrew was an inexperienced lover? Her needs were so strong that she wouldn't be able to refrain from aggressively correcting any clumsiness or hesitation on his part. That could end up a disaster. A brilliant plan came to mind.

"Andrew, an hour from now we'll both go our separate ways, never to see each other again. I've got an idea about how we can send each other off, in a good way. Are you willing to work with me on this, keep an open mind, and not get freaked out or defensive?" Andrew nodded but seemed unsure of what would follow.

"Be honest with me now, how many women have you been with?" Andrew wasn't expecting such an intimate question. He flinched.

"I know, maybe not a fair question, but hear me out. I've been doing this a few more years than you have, although my number of partners is probably a lot lower than you'd think. I remember the fumbling and frustrations from those early inexperienced lovers. How I wished I had the courage to tell them what I needed. And the courage to ask how I could please them. I was too afraid to speak up when things weren't going right."

Andrew responded timidly. "Only three so far. You're right, I'm still learning my way."

Tanja stroked his cheek. "That's good. Honesty works really well in sexual situations like this. Communication is the key. I wish I had learned that earlier. And I'm sure you'll have a few things to teach me about what turns you on.

"So today, why don't you let me guide you? Show you how to touch me. How to get me off and make me satisfied. Sure, every woman is a little different, but pay attention to how I respond. I'll bet what you take away from this will be very useful in the future. It's certainly not something you're going to learn in the classroom, but it'll get you a lot further in life than reading those books. Someday you'll say it's worth more than gold.

"So here's what I'm proposing. I'll show you how to get me warmed up. That's important. If you do that right, a woman won't have to pretend she's liking it. Then I'll take over and make you come. And after that, you can finish me off. Sound like a plan? So sit down on the sofa and we'll get started."

Tanja stood in front of Andrew and looked down at him. "I have a little confession to make. Like you, I'm unusually horny right now. It happens to most people who go through rehab. While you're using, sex is dulled. It becomes a secondary priority, then it stops altogether. So when you get clean, your libido goes into overdrive. Don't worry about your technique. I'm going to be a very enthusiastic partner, no matter what.

"So start by putting your hands on my hips. Good, now move them up and down slowly. Caress me. Look into my eyes while you're doing it. Watch my reactions. Mmm ... it's been so long since a man's touched me." Tanja felt her insides start to warm up, merely from a few seconds of contact. Moistness seeped from the walls of her vagina.

"Now keep doing that, but also move your hands around and stroke my ass and the backs of my thighs. Oh yeah, that's it. Now massage my ass cheeks. Squeeze them a little. Ahh, yes. OK, let your fingers curl around the backs of my legs while you stroke me. Get them near my pussy but don't touch me there ... yet.

"Good. Now spread your thumbs out and let them curve around the front of my thighs while you stroke them up and down. Oh, Andrew, that's how you do it. I'm getting wet already."

Andrew hadn't been sure earlier about what was going to happen with Tanja's plan, but he was totally on board at that point. He could feel precum drooling from the end of his prick.

"Andrew, have you ever gone down on a woman? Do you like doing that? A lot? OK, good! You'll get far in this world if you like to eat pussy. Here's an advanced tip for what we're doing now. You've been looking up at me while you stroke my legs. Now gently put your face up against my belly. Move it around slowly. Oooh, that's right. Now let your fingers go behind my legs and stroke my ass. And move your face down near my pussy and press in ... and move it around. Aaah, fuck! Perfect!"

Andrew let out an involuntary groan when he felt her mound twitch against his lips. He had some regrets that cunnilingus wasn't going to be part of the lesson that day.

"OK, Andrew, look up at me again. Whew! You're a good student. You see what that did? When you ease into it? Otherwise women can get freaked out when a man starts chewing away down there without any preliminaries. When you nuzzle her through her clothes like you did, it lets her know you're not afraid to put your mouth down there. Gives her a nice little preview of what's to come later.

"And another tip. Don't ask 'Do you want me to suck your pussy?' Tell her: 'I want to suck your pussy.' Either she'll moan with approval or suggest you do something else. Telling is always better than asking. It's confident and masculine. Asking makes you sound weak and unsure.

"And we're ready to move up higher. Keep stroking but move your hands up to my waist. Good. Now a little higher on my body. As you go up let your palms graze against the sides of my boobs. Ahh, nice, nice. Same deal as down below. Ease into it. Don't start mauling her tits right off the bat.

"Now here's where you let your hands come around, but not across the nipples right away. Spend some time touching the other parts of my breasts. Most men haven't a clue about this. Stroke underneath ... mmm, yes ... and the sides. I know, I've got a lot of territory to cover. And it's all natural, by the way.

"OK, curve your fingers around the tops of my breasts with your thumbs underneath. Now stroke front to back, but still stay away from the nipples. Squeeze and caress the flesh ... mmm.