I left the classroom feeling great. I’d gotten an A on the story I’d written and positive feedback from the other students in the creative writing workshop. It was the last class of my first semester at Clinton State, and now the only thing between me and winter break was one more final exam. I zipped my jacket and pushed through the doors of Barrington Hall into the cold December air.
“Chad! Wait up,” a feminine voice called from behind me.
“Oh hey, Kara,” I responded, pausing in my tracks.
I watched her jog to catch up to me, wrapped in a snug olive-green sweater dress. Her hair was black and wavy, cut in a bob, and parted to one side. Her face was round, and her features were plain, but not unattractive. All in all, she wasn’t super-model pretty, but she was certainly cute.
Kara was a fellow English major, so we shared a lot of the same courses, including the workshop I’d just come from. We didn’t really hang out much outside of class, but we’d been sitting next to each other all semester and had exchanged meaningless small-talk in the minutes before class started. She seemed nice enough, with a friendly demeanor that never seemed to intend anything more than just to pass the time.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“You ready for Pulsford’s final on Thursday?”
Dr. Pulsford taught British colonial literature, and she had been a total hard-ass all semester. We’d read Rudyard Kipling’s The Man Who Would Be King, Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad, A Passage to India by E.M. Forrester, Lord of the Flies by William Golding, A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth, a bunch of poetry by Rabindranath Tagore, and a number of literary essays about colonialism and its aftermath. She expected us to write a paper (by hand, in two hours, on the spot) responding to a question that would tie together all the different things we read (maybe 2500 pages in total). I wasn’t sure how anyone could be ready for something like that.
“I was thinking,” Kara continued. “Maybe… do you want to study for it? Together, I mean. I just thought that we could compare our notes and stuff.”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” I answered. “When do you want to get together?”
“How about we meet at the library tomorrow night. Seven work for you?”
I nodded.
“Cool, I’ll see you there!” Kara smiled and gave me a little wave of her hand, before heading off in the direction of the student union.
I walked back to my dorm. The thought crossed my mind that I’d just been asked on a date, but I dismissed it. Kara had never really given off the vibe that she was romantically interested in me. As for me, I’d been too wrapped up in a doomed long-distance relationship all semester; first trying to hold onto it, and then painfully learning to let it go. Even though college is supposedly the time when you’re constantly getting laid, my thoughts had been far away from dating. Besides, I concluded, there wasn’t any point in looking beyond the surface and getting my hopes up. It was pretty likely that I’d turn up and half the class would be there to study with us.
***
It was completely dark by the time I arrived at the library with my backpack slung over one shoulder. Kara was already waiting in the lobby, staring into her laptop. She was wearing a pair of tight-fitting jeans, and a chocolate brown cardigan over a white top. Piled in the seat next to her was a bulky black winter coat. When she saw me approaching, she closed her laptop and moved her coat so I could have a seat.
“Are we waiting for anyone else?” I asked.
“No,” she said, looking puzzled.
“Okay, well do you want to study here, or…?”
Even though many of the students had already gone home for the break, the library was still busy. People were coming and going all around us. A multitude of low conversations converged into a steady buzz.
“Let’s see if we can get a study-room upstairs,” Kara suggested.
“Alright,” I agreed.
Kara collected her things, and I followed her to the second floor. We had to present our student ID to a bored-looking student worker, and sign out a key to one of the rooms; a small cell with a table, a few chairs, a whiteboard fixed to one wall, and a large window into the library on the opposite wall. I took the novels from my bag and stacked them on the table. Kara followed behind me, shutting the door.
“So where should we start?” I asked, taking a seat.
“Let’s start with our notes from class,” Kara answered. “And then maybe we could go back to the books, and I’m pretty sure she wants us to cite the articles, too.”
“Did you even read them all?” I asked. I’d skipped a few of the readings that were too long, or too dense, or too boring.
“Of course,” Kara replied. “They were assigned. I didn’t want to look like an idiot if she called on me.”
Dr. Pulsford had a habit of calling out students who weren’t talking in class and putting them on the spot. It was always awkward to watch someone squirm and finally admit that they weren’t prepared. By the time she was done with them, they’d feel only three inches tall. I quickly learned to have some kind of canned response prepared, even if I’d slacked off on the readings – just enough to keep her off my back. But I thought the amount of reading she assigned was unrealistic. Pulsford, however, was totally unsympathetic to student complaints. ‘Welcome to university. It’s not going to get any easier,’ is all she had to say.
Kara moved around to my side of the table and sat next to me. I took my notepad from my backpack and flipped through several pages of scribbled notes.
“Seriously?” Kara asked, taking the pad from me. “What does this mean?”
She was pointing to the middle of a random page. I had the words ‘inefficiency of efficiency’ underlined and circled. It seemed important, but I couldn’t remember why. Kara flipped through the rest of the pages filled with similarly hurried scrawls that had become unmoored from their contextual references and were adrift in senselessness.
“Is this how you always take notes?” she asked, clearly unimpressed.
“Uh, yeah,” I admitted, sheepishly.
“Well, maybe we can work from my notes, and hopefully some of your stuff will make sense.”
“Alright.”
Kara opened her laptop. She logged in, and an open document flashed onto her screen.
“Shit!”
Blushing fiercely, Kara quickly clicked the file closed, but not before I’d read a couple of lines: ‘His cock throbbed deep inside her dripping pussy, as he buried himself again and again.‘
“Sorry, you weren’t supposed to see that,” she apologized. “I thought I’d closed it when you got here. Just forget it, okay?”
“Okay. Forgotten.” I lied. The words kept running through my mind.
Kara found the correct file on her system and pulled up her class notes. In contrast to mine, they were neat, well organized, and detailed.
“Alright, so let’s start with a comparison of Heart of Darkness with Lord of the Flies. Both of them are about a breakdown of British civilization, right?”
“The inefficiency of efficiency!” I exclaimed. “I remember now. It’s like the more that they try to create order, the crazier things get.”
For the next couple of hours, we poured over the notes, looked up parts of the text, copied quotes and page numbers, cross-referenced them, and made even more notes. We covered so much literary ground, I wondered how we’d ever be able to recall it all during the exam. Finally, Kara closed the lid of her laptop.
“Ugh. I need a break,” she declared. She stood up, stretched, and yawned.
“Yeah, me too.” I agreed. “Let’s see if the coffee shop downstairs is still open.”
It was. They were operating around the clock just for finals week. Kara and I got our fix of caffeine and sat at a table watching people pass.
“You know,” I said. “I think we can tie in Kipling-”
“Chad,” Kara interrupted, lightly touching my hand. “We’re on break.”
“Okay, sorry.”
The conversation lulled.
“You know, I really liked your story from class,” she said breaking the silence.
“Thanks. I liked yours, too.” I said.
She’d written an angsty story about a couple of twenty-year-olds from a small town who break into their old high school at night to get drunk.
“It was okay,” she said. “I know it still needs work, though. Actually, I’ve been working on something else.”
“The one that was on your computer?” I asked. The phrase, ‘His cock throbbed deep inside her dripping pussy,’ flashed in my mind. I couldn’t help but wonder about the state of Kara’s pussy as she wrote those words.
“Yeah. I mean it also needs work, but…” she paused and looked at me. “I could really use some feedback.”
“You want me to read it?” I asked.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want. I was just thinking… you know, you’re a really good writer, and… It’s kind of different from the stuff we submitted to the class. It’s a little more…” She leaned in and her voice dropped to a whisper. “Sexy.” She resumed her normal speaking voice. “I mean, if it makes you uncomfortable, then…”
“No, I’m not uncomfortable,” I defended, though to be honest, I felt a little awkward, but I didn’t want to come off as some uptight sexual prude. “Yeah, I guess I can read it.”
I followed Kara back to the study room. Our things were where we’d left them. She booted up her laptop again and opened the story that had been on her screen earlier. I sat down and began to read. Kara sat across from me watching me intently.
“I can’t read with you watching me like that,” I complained.
“Sorry,” she said, turning to look out the window instead.
***
The story started with a guy who had to give a big speech but had anxiety about speaking in public. When he got nervous, he stuttered, and he was afraid he was going to blow the speech. He looked up a speech therapist to help him with his problem. The therapist had unconventional methods. She made the guy recite William Blake over and over:
Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
As he was reciting, the therapist began to undress in a sexy striptease, revealing a black corset, thigh-high stockings, and panties. She started to play with herself, tweaking her nipples and sliding a finger over her panties. She could tell he was turned on, watching her, but if the guy stopped his recitation, she smacked him with a riding crop, and demanded “Again.”
Then the therapist undressed the guy, and gave him a blowjob, while he kept repeating the verse. If he lost concentration, she’d swat his erection, or slap his ass: “Again! Again!” Following that, she pulled the guy down to the floor, and got on top of him, riding him, her large breasts bouncing up and down, her ass jiggling, ‘his cock throbbed deep inside her dripping pussy, as he buried himself again and again.‘ She continued to discipline him when he screwed up, slapping his face, twisting his nipples, or tugging his hair. She came on him, they took a few more positions, and then finally, he exploded inside of her shouting the word “SYMMETRY!” at the top of his lungs.
After a short recovery, they both got up and got dressed. Before the guy left, she asked him to recite the poem one more time. He did so, feeling completely calm, and without a stutter. In the final line, she told him that he was ready to give his speech.
***
I looked up over the laptop screen to find Kara staring intently at me again.
“Did you like it?” she asked.
“Yeah. That was uh…” I considered her for a minute. Something about her had changed. She wasn’t just a girl I knew from class anymore, but a sexually-minded woman who had just shared some steamy erotica with me. “It was hot,” I finished.
“Let me see how hot,” Kara returned.
“Huh?” I asked, but she had already slipped out of her chair, and beneath the table. In a second, I felt her hands, stroking the restrained erection that was pressing against the denim of my jeans, begging for freedom.
“You really liked it, eh?” Kara asked from under the table.
“Yeah, but… what are you doing?”
“Getting your feedback,” Kara answered.
I felt her fingers working at the front of my pants, popping the button and sliding the zipper down, easing some of the pressure on my cock. They continued their ingress, slipping inside the waistband of my underwear, and tugging. I looked out the window, worried we’d be caught, but no one out there was paying any attention to us. I lifted my ass slightly off the seat, and with the next firm tug, I felt pants and underwear pulled down below my knees. Fortunately, the wooden desk blocked anyone from outside seeing what was going on.
“Chad, wow!” Kara exclaimed beneath the table. Her fingertips delicately teased the head of my cock, glided up and down the shaft, and slipped around my balls cupping them gently. Then I felt her fist close around my length and begin to stroke me slowly.
“Shit,” I whispered. “That feels good.”
“Say it,” Kara demanded.
“Say what?… Oh! Fuck! Ow!” She flicked the head of my cock with her finger.
“Say it,” she repeated.
“Tyger tyger burning bright…”
The stroking resumed.
“In the forests of the night…”
I felt her lips press against the head of my cock, and then she took me into her mouth.
“What immortal hand or eye…”
Her tongue slipped and darted over the sensitive cock, her hand was caressing my balls, and gently pulling on them.
“Framed thy fearful symmetry,” I concluded.
She spat my cock out of her mouth. “Again!” she ordered, giving my balls a rough squeeze.
“Ah! Jesus!” I shouted, but before I had a chance to protest anymore, I felt my cock slide down her throat again, with her lips pressed against my base. Her fingers resumed their soothing caress of my testicles. I slumped down in my seat trying to give her even more access.
“Tyger tyger…” I repeated, eager for her to continue working my cock with her mouth. I could feel her saliva running down the underside and coating my balls. My cock swelled and throbbed. My breathing was getting harder as I continued my recitation. I knew I was getting close.
Then I heard voices approaching. Quickly, I grabbed one of the novels and pretended to be engrossed in it. A group of girls passed by the window and one of them actually gazed in at me. I tried to give her a friendly smile, but the blowjob stopped, and I felt fingernails scratch down my thigh.
“Again.”
“There were people out there,” I defended, though they were already gone. “We could have been caught.”
Fingernails on the other thigh, so hard that I imagined she’d drawn blood.
“Again!”
I resumed the mantra, “Tyger tyger burning bright…”
Kara resumed the blowjob beneath the table. I was amazed at her skill. It was like she could read my body. She knew just when speed up and slow down, when to make it more intense, and when to back off, how to hit every sensitive part with a flick of the fingers or twitch of the tongue. She was in complete control of my body, savoring my every reaction.
“What immortal hand – oh fuck – or eye…”
I was on the edge orgasm, so close. Kara hummed loudly beneath the table. The sound vibrated my cock in her warm wet mouth. That was all it took to make me lose control.
“Framed thy – holy shit – fearful – I’m going to cum – SYMMETRY!”
Kara took me deep down her throat as my pulsing cock pumped and spurted jets of semen. I could feel her throat muscles working around me as she swallowed everything I had to give.
After a few seconds, the intensity of the orgasm began to fade. Kara lifted her head, and my still-mostly-hard cock slid from her mouth. She gasped loudly as she caught her breath. For a few more minutes she continued to tenderly kiss and lick me then she crawled out from under the wooden table. She stood smiling proudly at me.
“Well?” she asked. “What did you think of the story?”
“Amazing!” I said.
“Yeah? And are you ready for the exam tomorrow?”
“I am,” I said confidently. “But I think you might need some more review. My roommate is already gone, so why don’t we go back to my place and pull an all-nighter?”
“Good idea,” Kara agreed, packing up her computer.
