Disclaimer: This material is intended for an adult audience. All characters and situations described in this story are fictitious in nature. The individuals portrayed in this reading are presumed to be of legal age to engage in sexual activity.
It was the start of my fifth year at Braxton High School; to say I was nervous would have been the biggest understatement of all time. My name is Johnny Canton, and before anyone asks, no I was not held back, in fact up to this point I have a perfect 4.0 GPA. I fear that is all about to change; however, and if you think that is the reason I am apprehensive, then you don't even know the half of it. For you to truly appreciate the gravity of my situation, I must take you back a few years to when it all began, at least for me anyhow.
I grew up in a small town in Ohio, which most people have likely never heard of, and probably never will. My parents although being relatively smart, never progressed beyond the standard bachelor's degree required by most employers to hold a decent paying job. I on the other hand seemed to possess a somewhat higher level of intelligence. People would use the term gifted in their assessment of my capabilities. I am not saying this to brag mind you; it is just the way things were. School work was very easy for me and as such there were many times when I would become bored watching my teachers struggle to explain abstract theories and concepts to other students which I have grasped for years. I loved to learn, but the problem was I wasn't doing much of it in school. Unlike some other "talented" individuals, I was astute enough not to let my boredom distract me from making solid marks in my classes. I knew that one day things would change for me and I didn't want to have any sub-par grades holding me back when that time occurred.
It was near the end of my 8th grade year when Mr. Stevens, one of my teachers, took it upon himself to submit my test scores to Braxton, which led to Mr. Turner showing up on our doorstep in the middle of my summer vacation. I was told to go outside and shoot some hoops as my parents wanted to speak with Mr. Turner privately. I started to argue that this was about my future, and I had a right to be a part of their discussion, but one look at my mom's face told me I had better do as I was told. When I left the room to get my basketball I also grabbed my digital recorder off of my desk. I may had been banished from their discussion, but I be damned if I was going to miss one minute of that conversation.
"Mr. Turner, I must admit that I was rather intrigued when we first spoke about the scholarship you were offering Johnny, but after doing some research on Braxton I am very apprehensive to let him attend there," My mother spoke.
"I can't imagine why you would feel that way Mrs. Canton. I thought I explained that in addition to all expenses being covered for the entire five year program, young Johnny would almost certainly be guaranteed admittance in any one of the Ivy League colleges he applies to upon graduation from Braxton. This is a golden opportunity for him," Mr. Turner replied.
"I understand all of that, and the research I did on Braxton after we talked confirmed the statistics you quoted me over the phone. The one thing you failed to mention is the unorthodox sexual education program that every student is required to partake in," My mother said.
"I was waiting to discuss that aspect with you in person. It is a well-known fact that Braxton requires a full year of extensive sexual education in order to graduate. We are very proud of our academic program and I was by no means trying to hide this from you," Mr. Turner replied.
"I've been told that your program goes well beyond what is normally taught in most schools systems," She challenged.
"Everything at Braxton is far above what most high schools teach. That is why over 85% of our students get admitted to an Ivy League college upon graduation. Braxton is a completely privately funded organization Mrs. Canton. We are not subject to the same limitations as the schools who are government subsidize. I feel like we are getting off on the wrong foot here. Please, let me try and explain the origin of Braxton and some of the principals that go along with it," He asked?
"Alright, Mr. Turner we're listening," My dad finally spoke.
"Braxton is a private all boys preparatory high school. It was founded about 50 years ago by a group of widowed school teachers who all managed to marry rich successful men who left them vast fortunes upon their deaths. These ladies were fed up with the public school system and felt that they could run one much better than the bureaucrats who sit in their cushy offices and make imprudent decisions that undermine teacher effectiveness rendering it difficult for students to succeed. The founders of Braxton came together and developed a program that they felt would put a student on the right path to achieving a successful career. These women geared their program towards the Ivy League colleges, with the intention of matriculating their students in one of them upon their graduation. The idea was to accept only the brightest students into Braxton, that way advanced classes could be taught without anyone falling behind. The first decade of Braxton's existence did not go as planned. Braxton graduates were smart, but they just weren't up to Ivy League standers. After examining the matter it was determined that the one thing Braxton boys lacked was confidence.
When the ladies started to discuss this problem over cocktails one evening, they began to confess that some of their former husbands once suffered the same issues. After a few more drinks were consumed they were able to candidly discuss their husbands' confidence problems and how many of them were actually solved in the bedroom. It is just a fact of life that many men gain confidence by being able to handle themselves in sexual situations. After conducting further research on the subject, the ladies were more convinced than ever that they had stumbled upon a key prerequisite for success that they had previously overlooked. It was later decided that Braxton would expand their graduate program to five years, thereby ensuring that each student would be of legal age to partake in a now mandatory full year of extended sexual education," Mr. Turner explained.
"Just how in depth is this sex course," Mrs. Canton asked?
"It is very extensive. We of course start off with the basics, but then we quickly move into administration of pleasure and how to satisfy your partner. We bring in professional women to teach various methods and techniques both in the classroom and on a one to one basis," He said.
"You mean to tell me that you want to have hookers deflower my son," Mrs. Canton asked in horror?
"These ladies are professionally licensed therapists, not streetwalkers. If you're asking if Johnny will be a virgin when he graduates from Braxton then the answer is no, he will not," Mr. Turner replied.
"Well I think we have heard quite enough. Braxton does not sound like a place that I want my Johnny attending," My mother said.
"Mr. and Mrs. Turner, I urge you to reconsider. This truly is a once in a lifetime opportunity for your son. He is a very intelligent young man, and although it is conceivable that he may get accepted to an Ivy League College on his own, living in this small town makes it that much more difficult for him to do so. You are throwing away a golden opportunity for him based upon his requirement to have sex when he turns 18 years old; which is something he will most likely be doing on his own by that time anyway. There are thousands of people out there who would do just about anything for the deal I am prepared to offer your son. Please, don't let this one little requirement force you to pass up the chance to help Johnny get an Ivy League education. Your son may never forgive you if you do," Mr. Turner warned them.
"I don't care what you say, I am not going to sacrifice my son's virtue just to he can obtain enrollment in an Ivy League college," Mrs. Canton said in a huff as she stormed off to her bedroom.
"Mr. Canton, I did not mean to upset your wife, but before the two of you pass up this golden opportunity I suggest that you at least talk to your son and see what his feelings are regarding the matter. This is a very exclusive scholarship, which is rarely ever offered. I understand your wife's concerns, but Johnny is going to grow up regardless of whether she wants him to or not. I would hate to see him blow this chance," Mr. Turner said.
"Here is my card. I will be in the area for the next few days. Please talk with your wife and son, and then get back to me with your final decision," He asked?
"Thank you Mr. Turner. What you're proposing did come as a bit of a shock, but I must concede that getting Johnny admitted in an Ivy League school is a very tempting offer. I assure you that we will be discussing this as a family, regardless of what my wife thinks, and I promise to get back to you with our decision in a few days," my father said.
"Thank you Mr. Canton and I hope to hear from you soon," Mr. Turner said shaking my father's hand before he left.
"Johnny would you come in here a minute please," My dad asked?
"Sure Dad, what's up," I asked.
"Son I want you to take that tape recorder that you left over there and go listen to it. When you are finished, I need you to meet your mother and I back out here in the living room so we can discuss this matter with you," He said to my utter shock.
"You saw me? Gosh, Dad I am sorry. I know it was childish to spy on you like that, but I just had to know what this was all about," I admitted fearing the worst.
"No son you have a right know about this. You are not a little boy anymore and your mother should not have made you leave the room while we were discussing your future. You may not have gone about it in the right way, but at least now I don't have to explain to you all that was said because you can just listen to it yourself. Now go and play your tape, and let me have a little talk with your mother. I have a feeling that this is going to be a very long day," Dad said.
After listening to the recording my mind was a jumbled mess of confusion, excitement, anxiety and fear all rolled up into one. I have to admit that on some level I was glad that Mom had banished me outside, as I could not imagine facing my Mother while Mr. Turner was explaining the Sex Ed requirements to her. At this point, I didn't know what to think. The promise of guaranteed pussy was alluring as well as terrifying. The thought that I would have to spend an additional year in high school was a real bummer. I had been planning on opting for early graduation, now they wanted me to stay there a year longer before starting college. The fact that they were practically insuring that I would be accepted to an Ivy League school did go a long way towards making their offer very tempting in light of the extra time it would take to graduate. I dreaded talking to my parents about this. I knew what my Mom was going to say, but I had no idea where my Dad stood on the subject, and after listening to their conversation I was still unsure how I felt about the whole thing. Mom and Dad always preached that when I had a difficult choice to make I should try and create a pros and cons list to help me decide. I grabbed a few sheets of paper and a pen and headed into the living room to meet my fate.
As I sat down with paper and a pen in hand, my mother turned to my father and said, "I don't know why we're even bothering to discuss this Harold. I will not allow my son to go there and that's final," she stated.
"First of all Marge, he is my son as well, and I have at least equal say in the matter. Now, I plan to sit here and calmly discuss this opportunity with Johnny, and if you can't do the same thing, then perhaps you should be the one outside shooting hoops," My dad suggested.
"How dare you speak to me that way Harold Canton and in front of my own child no less," My mother exclaimed!
"You have spoken far worse things to me over the years, and you didn't give a damn who was listening to you at the time either. I let you get away with a lot of shit over the years Marge, but the one thing I won't let you do is ruin our son's chances of getting into an Ivy League college, just because you can't stand to watch him grow up," Dad said.
"So you would let some hooker fornicate with your own son," She asked in horror?
"You heard Mr. Turner; they are licensed professionals, not whores off the street. We use instructors to teach our children about everything else, why are we unwilling to do the same thing when it comes to sex," My father asked?
"You can sugarcoat this all you want Harold, but the fact is that they want to force Johnny to sleep with some prostitute, and I will not allow that to happen. As far as I'm concern this discussion is over," His mother stated in a huff as she started to get up from her chair.
"Marge, I already told you that you are not making this decision by yourself. You can leave now if you wish, but by doing so you forfeit your right to voice your opinion in this matter," My dad told her.
"I have already stated my feelings, and if I say he is not going, then he won't go, period," She yelled.
"Wrong Marge, this is an important decision, and Johnny is old enough to have a say in this issue. We are going to sit down and discuss this like adults, and after that we are going to put this matter to a majority rules vote," Dad said.
Seeing that she wasn't going to get her way with Dad, like she usually does, Mom turned to me and said, "Johnny, honey; you have no idea what that awful man said you had to do in order to graduate from that place," She said in her sweetest voice.
"Actually Mom, I do. I recorded your conversation with him, and listened to it in my room before I came out here to talk to you," I admitted.
"Jonathan Canton, how dare you spy on your father and me? I am very disappointed in you right now. You go to your room this instant young man," My mother demanded.
"No Mom I won't. I am sorry, but you left me no choice when you banished me outside while the three of you discussed my future without me. I want to talk to the both of you about this, but I can't do it when you are being so irrational. Please, calm down so we can discuss this like adults," I asked?
"You can talk about this until you are blue in the face, but you are not going to that school, no matter what you or your father thinks," Mom replied as she stomped off.
"Dad, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset mom like that," I said.
"You didn't upset her son; the fact that she didn't instantly get her own way, for once, did that. Despite what your mother thinks, I happen to know that only one parent's signature is required for the application process. Now convince me, why should I send you to Braxton," Dad asked?
"Honestly Dad, at this point I don't even know if I want to go there. I brought out some paper in hopes that you and Mom could help me create a pros and cons list. Since Mom refuses to talk about this with us, will you help me," I asked?
So for the next couple of hours my Dad and I compiled a list of the reasons why I should either accept Mr. Turner's invitation to join Braxton, or decline his offer, as my mother would have me do. After weighing all of the options, including my mom's feelings on the subject, we still felt that by turning down Braxton I would be giving up an opportunity of a lifetime. I finally looked at my father and told him I thought he should send me to Braxton.
"It's nice to get your opinion on what you think I should do, but what I would really like to know son is do you want to go to Braxton," He asked?
"Yes Dad, I believe I really do. I have always dreamed about going to Harvard. Braxton sounds like a means of achieving that dream," I said.
"What about the sex education class? Do you really think you can handle it," He asked?
"I won't lie and tell you I'm not a nervous wreck about that part of it, because I am. If I live long enough I will surly have sex at some point in my life. At least this way it will be in a controlled environment, where I won't have to worry about diseases, or the possibility of getting some girl pregnant," I said.
"That is a very responsible way of looking at this situation. Mr. Turner made it clear that it is extremely rare for someone to earn a full ride scholarship to Braxton. I am very proud of you for achieving such a high honor, and I don't think that your mother or I should hold you back from experiencing everything that you can in life; therefore, I have decided to sign the papers to let you go to Braxton," He said.
Mom was extremely pissed with our decision, and refused to speak to either one of us until about a week before it was time for me to leave for my new home for the next five years. I was in my room still trying to sort out what all I should take with me when there was a knock on my door.
"Johnny, may I come in and talk to you for a moment," My mother asked?
Bracing myself for another argument I replied "Sure Mom, come on in," I said.
"Honey, I have come to apologize," She said nearly knocking me off of my feet.
"I have recently been talking with your father, and he has helped me to realize that I have been treating the two of you like children for years now. I have finally come to terms with the fact that you are not my little boy anymore, and your father never was in the first place. Your dad never cared much for confrontations, and knowing that I took advantage of him by demanding that things always be done my way. I guess that I just wasn't prepared for the two of you to stand up to me like you did. I should have sat down and talked with you both about my concerns regarding you going to Braxton, but instead I acted like a child and stormed out of the room. I want you to know that although I still have reservations about you going to Braxton, I respect you and your father's decision, and I know that you will make both of us very proud," She finished.
"Wow Mom! I'm not sure what to say. I have really hated not being on speaking terms with you these past few weeks. I know that you are concerned about the sex education class that I have to take, and to be quite honest I am worried about it as well. Dad and I have discussed this from every angle, and the one thing that we keep coming back to is that I have always wanted to go to Harvard, and this seems like my only real shot at getting there. I don't want you to be mad at me, but if I don't take this opportunity I will always be wondering what might have been," I replied.
"I understand that dear, and although I can't honestly say that I am happy about it, I will no longer stand in your way," My mother replied.
So it was settled. The following week I boarded my very first jet plane that would take me far away from my meager little existence and into a new and somewhat frightning way of life. Even before the plane left the ground I was having second thoughts. Would I like this new school? Could I handle being away from my parents for so long of time? What would my dorm mate be like? Will this really help me get into Harvard? How could I possibly be expected to have sex with someone I didn't even know? Of all the questions rolling around in my head, this one bothered me the most. Of course at the age of fourteen I had done my share of reading about the subject. I knew all of the mechanics "insert tab A into slot B", but the thought of actually doing it was utterly terrifying.
My first few weeks at Braxton were like nothing I had ever experienced before. My roommate Brad was alright, I guess, but having to share a room with a guy I barely knew was really tough to get used to. At least, when I lived at home I could go to my room and have some semblance of privacy. Now everything I did, or wanted to do was being monitored by another person. Even the bathroom was community property. I couldn't shave, shower, or even take a dump without having someone else in the room with me.
The outlook at Braxton was something else I found rather unusual. We were taught that Braxton was like some sort of fraternity, and we were all a member of a sacred brotherhood. Braxton men watched out for one another. We were encouraged to support our fellow brothers, and were told that they in turn would help us out. Braxton kept a list of its alumni who held powerful positions throughout the world. These people have pledged to assist us in obtaining employment, meeting the proper contacts, and steering us in the right direction for our future success. In addition of promising to help fellow Braxton brothers, we were encouraged to donate substantial amounts of money back to the school when, not if, we became able to do so. To merely obtain financial security was not enough to be considered a success at Braxton. A person would have to be earning millions or better before their picture would be displayed on the wall of financial achievement.
Classes at Braxton were another matter entirely. I thought that I had worked hard in public school, but I quickly learned that my previous efforts had been a joke compared to this. At Braxton A's and B's were considered passing, anything below that meant that you failed. I really struggled my first semester, but in the end I managed to pull all my grades up to an A. Soon after they were posted, I received a notice saying that the dean wanted to see me. I thought he was going to congratulate me on getting all A's my first semester; boy was I mistaken!
"Mr. Canton, it has come to my attention that you were not doing all that well in some of your classes until the very end where you barely managed to pull your grades back up to acceptable levels." Dean Merit said.
"Sir, it is true that I had a little trouble adjusting to life here at Braxton, but I did score all A's on my report card," I replied.
"Yes, and you did so just by the skin of your teeth or so I am told. You came to this school on a full scholarship program, and as such you are held to a higher standard than the rest of our students. We only award a couple of those scholarships ever few years. I would hate to think that we made a mistake in choosing you as the beneficiary of our generosity," He said.
"Sir, I am sorry that it took me so long to get acclimated with some of the procedures here at Braxton, but I can assure you that I will do whatever it takes to keep up my grades and prove to you that you made the right choice by allowing me to attend this fine institution," I pleaded.
"Well seeing that this is your first semester here, and the fact that you managed to pull your grades back up before it ended, I won't be putting you on academic probation, this time. I will; however, be closely monitoring your performance in the future. Now, if you'll excuse me I have other matters that I must attend to," He said dismissing me like I wasn't worth another second of his valuable time.
Exiting his office I felt like I had just stepped out of a twisted episode of the Twilight Zone. I couldn't believe the gull of this guy! I manage to pull off straight A's on my very first semester here, and he treats me like I was an embarrassment to his precious scholarship program. I felt like telling the asshole to go fuck himself and head back to Ohio, where at least I had been appreciated. Once I finally simmered down a bit I realized that the best way to get even with the son of a bitch was to make this guy eat his words. I decided that instead of quitting I would buckle down and try harder. I was now more determined than ever to show this school and everybody in it just what Johnny Canton could really do.
The next few years at Braxton were some of the most challenging of my young life. This place was definitely not designed for the average student, and it taxed even the brightest of pupils. I saw many of my fellow classmates fold under the immense pressure that we were continually being subjected to. Amazingly enough I somehow managed to persevere many times at the expense of sleep, a proper diet, or any form of a social life. I had now completed my fourth year here at Braxton, and was finally headed back home for a much needed rest. Had I attended any other high school I would be graduating by now, but since I was at Braxton I still had another year to go before that would happen. It sucked to know that some of my former classmates would be starting college in the fall, and I was stuck going through another year of Braxton's version of hell, which is how I have come to think of it, at least in private that is.
"So honey, how are your classes going," My mother asked?
"There doing just fine Mom. So far I have managed to get nothing but A's in all of my classes," I replied.
"That's wonderful dear, but aren't you scheduled to take that awful sex education course next semester," She asked?
"Yes, I will be starting that class in the fall," I answered.
"Johnny, couldn't you try applying to Harvard now, instead of waiting another year? Maybe with your grades as good as they are you would be accepted anyway, without having to take a fifth year of high school," She asked?
"Mom, you and I both know that Harvard will never accept me without a high school diploma," I replied.
"Well you could always take the GED this summer. With that and your transcripts from Braxton they might let you in," she suggested.
"Mom, without a diploma from Braxton I don't have a prayer of being admitted into Harvard, but with one I have a real shot at earning a full ride scholarship there. I am going to have a hard enough time getting through this next year without having to worry about you being upset with me all over again," I said.
"I know you're under a lot of pressure honey, and I'm sorry for adding to it. I just hate the thought of your first time being with some prostitute, instead of your wife, or at least someone that you are in love with," She replied remorsefully.
"I know mom, and I am more than a bit apprehensive about that as well. Would it surprise you to know that I am also looking forward to it, at least to some extent," I asked?
"Actually Johnny, being an 18 year old male it would shock me if you weren't. I just hate the thought of them turning such a milestone event in your life into a classroom project," my mother said.
"Well if you insist, I guess I could head on over to the mall and comb for chicks. If I play my cards right, I might get lucky before I even have to return to Braxton," I said fully expecting the slap upside the head that my mother always gave me when I got one over on her.
Mom didn't disappoint me as she got me really good right on what has obviously been her favorite spot.
"Gee I really missed your loving displays of affection," I said ducking yet another blow from my laughing mother.
Summer seemed to fly by, and with it all my fears and anxieties came bubbling towards the surface. The closer it came to me having to return to Braxton the more apprehensive I became. If the thought of having to take advanced sexual education was not terrifying enough, I also had to enroll in all of the social classes that up to this point I'd managed to avoid. My classes this semester would consist of deals made on the golf course, the business side of sports, mingling for contracts, the art of concentration, and of course advanced sexual education. Why I had to take these classes was still a mystery, but seeing as they were all required I really didn't have any choice in the matter.
On my first day back after summer vacation I received a piece of good news that took a bit of worry off of my mind. No, I wasn't going to be able to get out of my sexual education course, but I did learn that my sports related classes were graded on a pass/fail basis. This was to help maintain our GPA status for college admission, but it did not mean that our social classes were a pushover, a fact which was emphasized when we were told these classes were equally, if not even more important than any of the previous ones we had taken. I was taught that more multi-million dollar deals were negotiated on the golf course than ever were in someone's office.
My business end of sports class taught us that when we find something social in common with our clients it helps create a personal connection that can be used to build relationships that will likely bring greater profit margins to whatever business venture we might be perusing. We were forced to not only learn the basic fundamentals of baseball, basketball, football, hockey, and car racing, but we also had to be able to name athletes and the stats of both their top and current players. My instructor told us that regardless of how we felt concerning any given sport, our job was to convince clients we loved it as much as any over the top fan ever did.
Unless I someday develop Alzheimer's disease, or a total case of amnesia I will never forget my art of concentration class as long as I live. The course was designed to help us learn to focus in the midst of a multitude of distractions. One day we would go in and there would be music blaring in the background, the next day there would be five separate televisions going, all on different channels, and each one turned up so loud that the professor had to practically scream over them to be heard. We came to class one morning to find the room decorated like one of the strip joints you see in the movies. Sure enough as Professor Moore started his lecture a group of three women that I had never seen before showed up in scantily clad clothing, and started dancing around the tall poles they had stationed on their makeshift stage. I couldn't believe it when these women actually began striping off their clothing right in front of us. Up until this point, I had only ever seen a naked woman on television and of course my computer screen. I nearly had a heart attack when one of their pairs of panties, came flying through the air and landed right on top on my desk. Needless to say, it was a very hard class that day, pun intended.
It was in the middle of my fifth year at Braxton, when my advanced sexual education class really started living up to its name. I remember coming to class one afternoon to find that the strippers I had previously seen performing in my concentration class were borrowed from the Sex Ed. program. Up to this point, we had probably only learned what most public high schools would have normally taught regarding health and sexual education. I had a strange feeling that was all about to change. The first thing I noticed as I walked through the door was that the room had been rearranged to accommodate three full sized rollaway beds that were now centered where the professors Briton's desk usually sat. As class began the three ladies introduced themselves as Helga, Jasmine, and Veronica. Professor Briton then took over saying that since some of us had already gotten a sneak peak during our focus class, we would now all be shown the various parts of the female body first hand. Taking their cue, the three women stood up and once more began to strip; only this time their actions were not accompanied by seductive music and provocative dance moves.
Once the ladies were clothing free, we were all given 5 minutes a piece with each of the women to explore the various differences and similarities that they all shared. Afterword's we would be assigned to write a ten page paper to be handed in the following day discussing our findings and what either attracted or repulsed us about them. We were encouraged to use as many as our five senses as possible in our examinations. Even now, so many years later, I can't even begin to describe what it felt like for a horny 18 year old boy to be given an assignment such as this. As I tried to steady my shaking hands I found that I was so nervous I literally had to concentrate on exactly what my five senses actually were. Let's see, there is sight, sound, touch, smell and what was the last one? Oh Shit now I remember, it was taste. Wanting to get a good grade on this assignment, I followed Professor Briton's instructions to the letter, as I attempted to memorize every aspect of each of their bodies. In addition to inquiring about the standard height, weight age, hair color, shoe, bra and other clothing sizes, I also looked for abnormalities, piercings and scars. I even asked about their brand of perfume and what type of soap they used. I requested that they each repeat a catch phrase so that I could compare the different tones of their voices. There were gasps of shock throughout the room when I knelt down and started to sniff and subsequently lick my subjects. The rest of the class thought that I had gone too far in my examination, but the professor just smiled and reminded them that he did say we were to use all of our five senses, and taste was definitely one of them. After that, some but not all, of the other boys followed suit in my demonstration of cunnilingus, but I did feel some semblance of pride at knowing that I was the first to try it.
Five minutes was not nearly enough time to explore all of the mysteries of the female body, and as it turned out 10 pages barely seemed to scratch the surface of what I had learned. I could have easily written ten pages a piece on each of the three women and still not had enough space to properly convey what I had discovered about them.
Our Friday class the following afternoon was rather anticlimactic as our three nude models were MIA. We were assured that they would return on Monday with our corrected essays. I was shocked and a bit embarrassed to learn that the ladies and not our professor would be the ones to grade this assignment.
As excited as I was to get to my Sex Ed. class Monday afternoon, I would have surly skipped it if I had known what all it entailed. Since several of the students had trouble accurately describing the various aspects of the female body beyond that of which was obvious, the ladies decided that a demonstration of what we should have been looking for during this exercise was in order. Upon the return of our essays I was relieved to discover that I had scored the highest in the class. That feeling was short lived when because of my high grade I was asked to assist the ladies in their tutorial.
Knowing that refusal was not an option, I was directed to stand near one of the beds while Jasmine once again stripped off her clothes to lay naked on top of the rollaway. I was then told to reexamine her body, describing to the class the methods I had used to generate my assessments. I had to relate how I sniffed, squeezed, touched, licked, and generally fondled each of the three ladies in order to determine their unique differences. If that wasn't embarrassing enough on its own accord, Jasmine decided to put me through the ultimate torcher when she asked if I would be willing to trade places with her so that she could explain to the class the various characteristics of the male body. Although I was told that I didn't have to do it at this time, I was informed that we would all be required to strip at some point or another if we intended to pass the class, so it was really pointless to be bashful about doing so. Being the most red faced than I have ever been in my life, I slowly began to peel away my layers of clothing until all that was left concealing my modesty was a single pair of white briefs with a noticeable bulge in the front. Turning away from the class I reluctantly lowered my underpants, carefully stepping out of them as to avoid stumbling and further intensifying my shame. With my head hung forward I gently sat in the middle of the bed before bringing my legs up and laying my head flat against the pillow keeping my eyes closed from embarrassment the entire time as if that would somehow shield me from this humiliating experience.
As I laid there with my blood alternating routes between my face to my engorged penis, I was subjected to the same type of examination that I had previously performed on Jasmine. I think she managed to describe every molecule of my body, even going as far as borrowing a ruler from Professor Briton and using it to measure my dick. I did feel a minuscule amount of pride when she informed the class that I was larger than average in that area, if only by an inch or so. When Jasmine decided to start her little taste tests on me I nearly went off right there in class. I will have to say that she was at least kind enough not to further humiliate me in front of the rest of my peers by causing me to prematurely ejaculate.
When the class finally came to an end Jasmine asked me to stay after so that we could discuss my essay in further detail. I was told to just remain where I was until everyone was gone. After the last guy finally left the room Jasmine knelt down and slowly took me inside her burning mouth, giving me my first and arguably best blowjob of my life. It felt like I shot a gallon of cum down her long slender throat, but she had me spit shine clean and ready for my next class within minutes of my eruption. She said that she didn't have the heart to leave me in the state that I was in and that was my reward for being so brave and doing so well on my essay.
From that day on, class was a mixture of sexual demonstrations and human psychology. We were taught seduction techniques, positions, massage theory, and how to read body language to determine what our partner most desired from us. We were also shown various sex toys and the most effective ways in which to use them. My instructor was not lying when he said that all of us would be required to strip if we wanted to pass the class. Since I had been the first to do so, I got the unique privilege of being able to sit back and enjoy watching everyone else be reduced to a quivering mass of utter embarrassment. My reprieve was short lived; however, because when it came time to demonstrate the physical act of intercourse, guess who was chosen as the Ginny Pig to go first?