Vixen had four subjects on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and on the first day of classes she got to all four on time and before the sessions were over, she made sure each of her teachers knew her name. It was not hard since the slim redhead with the big boobs was wearing her skin-tight jeans and a skimpy t-shirt a couple of sizes too small.
The biology lecture had really interested her, and she looked forward to the labs. The English course was about writing a research paper and that, she feared, meant a lot of work, but the teacher was young and cute.
The world history teacher, she decided, was about a hundred and five, and he could lecture with his eyes closed, which he did, but he raised an eyebrow when he spotted Vixen, her legs crossed in the second row as she took notes in more-or-less outline form. He did like young girls with good thighs, always had.
The PE class had been dull, all girls, and just a talk about female health, STDs and school rules. She did learn where she could get free condoms.
She was started; she was a college student.
Vixen and her roommate Cal discussed the first day and drank a beer before going down to the cafeteria. One meal there made both of them decide they would eat elsewhere from now on.
Vixen turned down lacrosse-captain Ralph Stimson and three other very eager young men and slept soundly in her own bed while Cal went off to spend an evening with some members of the swim team and hook-up with one of them.
The Tuesday and Thursday class was Public Speaking, and the teacher was an over-weight, middle-aged man who wore pancake make-up and a very bad wig. At the first session, he had each student stand in alphabetical order and introduce him or herself.
Vixen was glad she had worn her faded Levis and her baggy Princeton sweatshirt when she came to the front of the class and said her name, told them where she was from, and said she was looking forward to a very interesting semester. She smiled and made good eye contact, noting the eager looks of most males.
She sat and exhaled, slightly red in the face and the teacher frowned at her. "See me at the end," he said as the next student got up. Her nervousness had surprised her, and so did this request.
After class she stood before his desk, hands behind her. She tossed back her ponytail, smiled and tried to look pleasant and not impatient. She had a boy waiting in the hall who had eagerly promised to make her scream with his tongue, and she was looking forward to that. Cunnilingus was one of her absolutely favorite activities.
"I've seen you before, haven't I?" the teacher said, cocking his head to one side and sucking his teeth.
She shook her head, making the ponytail sway. "Don't think so. We went to Atlantic City once."
"Nope. Ah, I know. Yes, yes. You made that nice little video with the basketball players, didn't you; fifteen minutes or so, hardcore. Just little you and five big bucks, right?"
"Uh uh," said Vixen as her stomach churned. "Must be somebody else."
"Oh no," he said. "I'm sure I'm right. Take off your shirt. I saw it, five at the same time, hell of a thing. Well beyond being air-tight, eh?"
"No," said the girl loudly.
"How old are you?" he asked, looking angry as she backed away.
Vixen left, slamming the door behind her.
After the second speech class, a lecture on preparation, the instructor stopped her at the door, his hand on her upper arm. "You were sixteen when you did those porn films, right? I found three more on the Internet, and I searched the birth-death records in Albany. You're only seventeen now."
"None of your business," Vixen said, pulling free.
"You can go to jail, and so can the people who made those things. Or you can be nice to me and..."
"Go to hell," Vixen spat and ran down the hall, tears in her eyes.
She called Ralph at his frat house and told him she wanted to see him. At the student union they drank Cokes, and Vixen told the young man that her speech teacher was threatening her. "He knows something that could get me in trouble, my dad too."
"What?" the boy asked.
Vixen shook her head and bit her lips. "I think he's gay. I know he's weird. He's wearing make-up."
"You know about drop-add?" Ralph asked. "You can get out, change electives."
She shook her head, looking sad.
He explained. "So just get the form at the office and drop that stupid course and sign up for something else, maybe music or art. You can get that speech requirement later."
She sniffed. "That won't stop him."
"One of the guys in the fraternity is gay. I'll see what he knows."
Vixen dropped the speech course and signed up for Introductory Drawing. Ralph and his buddies downloaded the teacher's hard disc to some thumbdrives while he was in class. They found some strange BDSM porn on his computer which showed the teacher in very strange costume as well as some kiddie-porn, confronted him with it, and he left the college that weekend. Seaside hired a retired teacher as an adjunct and saved some money.
Vixen rewarded Ralph to the point where she had to help him up the steps of his fraternity house.
College settled down to a very normal routine except for when Cal's bronc riding boyfriend visited. Vixen spent that week in Ralph's fraternity house bed and wore him out. In general, she limited herself to only one or two new men a week, on Tuesdays and Thursday afternoons. She actually thought about having a waiting list on her Blackberry.
Vixen invited her roommate to come home with her for the long Thanksgiving weekend, but the lithe swimmer had already agreed to stay at one of the sorority houses. Disappointed, and starting to believe that Cal was bi-sexual, Vixen left school early Wednesday afternoon and reached the outskirts of Rome, New York, some five and a half hours later.
Vixen's father was expecting her and had a good supper of take-out Chinese in the oven. After they ate, enjoying happy chatter about school and hometown news, Vixen went out with the very wealthy Miller brothers, Johnny and Jimmy, both of whom owned Porsche Boxsters.
She perched on John's lap while Jim drove and Johnny pawed. Vixen had called them the week before, and they were eager for reunion with the girl they both had enjoyed several times. Vixen, who did not think much of the boys as lovers, just wanted a good time and knew they could afford it.
At the country club they drank, danced and chatted, and the boys got Vixen all caught up on who was romancing whom and where to get first-class weed and some other drugs. Her tiny white skirt and incredible chest attracted a great deal of attention on the small dance floor since her lace-topped gown was draped deeply between her incredible mounds and held up by thin spaghetti straps.
"We saw one of your movies up at Yale," Jimmy told the girl with a smile. "I really couldn't believe it was you until they did a close up of your face while this guy was ass fucking you. Boy, did you scream!"
"Gee, that's embarrassing," Vixen said, thoroughly nonplussed as she scanned the room for people she knew. "But I had fun doing those. They're going to pay for college. You guys ready to play?"
The boys grinned at each other, rose, took her hands and hurried her upstairs to the room they had rented. The three stripped in record time and jumped on one of the twin beds almost together. Vixen crouched over Johnny's limber body and sucked his eager cock deep while his brother stroked her puffy-lipped slot from behind, got up on his toes and sank his rigid cock up into her. She gasped, arched and shuddered, but then went right back to sucking and licking.
The three managed to establish a decent rhythm, and the boys came nearly together and then they flopped, all three of them, tangled together and laughing. Vixen slid down Johnny's body into a 69 position and let him suck her bubbling vulva while she tried to revive his soggy penis with her talented tongue. When Jim recovered he eased his slick erection into the girl's anus and got up above the slurping pair to enjoy himself, fingers buried in her buttocks.
Once the boys were sated, Vixen got back into her tiny skirt and frilly top and went back down to the club and got another highball. Within minutes a tall young man came and sat at the small table and smiled at her. "Remember me," he said, offering his hand. "Phil Jacobs, I worked for your father a year or so ago."