Future Sex Coach Michaels
Chapter 21

Copyright© 2009 by Coach_Michaels

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 21 - Sex ed in the year 2063 is a bit... different... than it is today. Abstinence-only? Nope. More like "Drivers Ed for Your Sexuality" It isn't called a "participatory course" for nothing. Do these girls realize what they signed up for?

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Ma/ft   Consensual   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Group Sex   Interracial   First   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Exhibitionism   Teacher/Student   Slow   School  

North Robert High School
10:36 A.M. Friday, December 14, 2063

The girls were all staring at me, wide-eyed, and that too was a turn-on. Some of them had seen male masturbation in person before, and of course we had all watched video. But now they were watching me, waiting for me to cum.

Monday, I would be watching them. All sixteen of them, using fingers and toys to bring themselves off while I watched. This would continue every day until school let out for "Winter Break," as we were expected to call it. When they returned in January, they would be encouraged, though not required, to masturbate in class whenever they felt so moved, unless I was lecturing or we were otherwise engaged in something which required their full attention. But when I was doing something with one girl (or one group of girls), the others didn't have to just sit and watch; they could sit, watch, and jill themselves.

Ah, but that would be in January. Right now, I was almost at my climax. I would do this again for my second class, and again for my third. Coming three times in six hours is hardly a record, but I had to be able to be sure that I could, and that I could in time for the girls to see the whole thing before class let out.

Lots of men think that they would like to be sex coaches, but it requires more than horniness; it requires certain sexual capabilities. It also requires the sort of knack that any coach has to have, that knack for pushing a student farther than she has gone before, without pushing her too far, only for a sex coach this is much more important than in, say, basketball. And if you want any girls to actually sign up for your class, you have to be attractive to them. I don't consider myself the best looking guy in the world, or even the best looking male teacher at North Robert High School, but I'm good looking enough. I'm not the most charming, either, but again, I'm charming enough.

"It's about to happen!" I heard Anika whisper. Linda was absently rubbing herself already. She'd done that several times this year, but always stopped after a few seconds. Rita would slip her hand between her legs, pull it away, and a couple of minutes later it would slip back, only to be pulled away again. I imagined what it would be like Monday, when she could open wide and go for it. Would she moan? Would she pant and gasp?

I was there. I let myself make some noises, but didn't yell or anything like that. A few more strokes and I shot my seed into the air, while the girls cooed or laughed or clapped their hands.

"Ah, <gasp> Veronica," I started, and then took a few more deep breaths before I continued, "could you <pant> bring the slides, now?"

"You bet'cha, Coach!" She had started towards me before I finished pronouncing her name, and together we put a little bit of my semen on each of sixteen microscope slides. In scooping it up, she "accidentally" let her hand brush my cock, but I didn't say anything. Let her think that she had gotten away with something.

"OK," I told the girls as each took a slide, "now we've seen photos, diagrams, and video of spermatozoa already, but now you can see the real thing, and hold it in your hand."

The chairs and desks had been brought back in for today, and there was a microscope on each desk. The girls all bent to look at the little things squiggling under the glass slides, and some of them looked up at me, and then back through the 'scope.

"There are millions of them," I reminded, "and it only takes one of them getting to the ovum to make you a mother. Look at how many there are, and remember that all sixteen of you have slides of your own."

I let that sink in. "Now imagine that I spurted all those into just one of you. Right up into you, and that several million are now seeking out that egg. Do you see the importance of taking your contraceptives? I'll be taking them, too, starting over Winter Break. I only went off of them for a week so that I could make sperm, and you could see this."

I'd also abstained from masturbation or any other orgasm-inducing activity for the last three days, to be sure that I could produce oodles of sperm, three times today.

Wendi raised her hand.

"Wendi?"

"Coach, you say that there are millions of these sperm in each ejaculation, but not all of them seek out the egg. You told us all about blocker sperm and killer sperm months ago."

"That's right," I told her, "and very good of you to remember. That bit of information might well be on the final."

I saw a few heads jerk up from the microscopes at that. The final wouldn't be prepared for months, but in fact blocker and killer sperm were on today's quiz. Wendi's question meant that all the girls would get this one correct. I hoped that they were properly grateful to her for it.

"Now, it is true that some of the sperm do not seek out the ovum, but rather seek to block any sperm from another man from seeking out the ovum. Also, there are sperm which actively kill any foreign sperm that they come into contact with. And of course, those which do go for the egg may well have to deal with another man's blocker and killer sperm. Obviously, it wasn't uncommon for our female ancestors to have more than one male's sperm in her at the same time. Common enough for rather sophisticated microscale warfare to evolve."

"I guess our ancestors were real sluts, huh?" Witashna quipped, but I could tell that she was less than worried about it.

"Hai," Anika added, "they must've been slipping behind the acacias every chance they got!"

There were some chuckles at that. At least she hadn't said "hakuna matata," one of her favorite phrases. Her habit of slipping Japanese and Kiswahili words into conversations was at once cute and trying, especially considering that she wasn't actually fluent in either language.

I coughed. "Tasty, Wendi?"

"I spilled a bit on my finger," the 9th grader smiled as she took another lick.

"Any of you who want to take a taste, feel free," I told them, "just be careful not to cut your tongues on the slides. It isn't required, of course."

Most of them did go ahead and taste. Some of them made a point of licking index fingers up and down, sucking on them while smiling at me. Not exactly subtle, but I smiled back. I was not surprised when Amethyst expressed a desire to take some semen "straight from the source." I winked at her and motioned for her to come to the front of the class.

 
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