Freshman in College

Freshman in College  
   
     I am dazed in English Comp. I am an eighteen year old student hobo adrift in summer session. The instructor’s words sift through the sieve of my mind.  
     Class is dismissed and I dart through the door. A raven haired beauty lassoes me. Her plea is for an essay collaborator.  “Why me?” is my reply.  
     Her answer, “Your glasses make you look smart. All I need is a C to stay on cheerleader squad.”  
     We sit in the dorm recreation area with the partition closed. We are alone together and huddled in academic conspiracy. Her pen inscribes my word tumble. Her sultry muse mystique arouses my word gift.  
     Her parting gratitude is offered in her halter topped profile. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”  
     Our eyes lock as her invitation dawns on my otherworldly naiveté. I am bewildered but don’t want to miss the cue. My tongue trembles with words dying to be born. She brushes her long black hair over her shoulders as she fixedly gazes at me. The quiet is deafening. Finally I stutter with the words, “Could I have a kiss, on the lips?”  
     She smiles as though I’d gotten the right answer in a game show and won the prize. “Yes of course baby. Stand up and come to me puppy.”  
     “I’m sorry I’ve never kissed a girl. I feel like I’m floating in outer space.”  
     “That’s alright. Don’t be nervous. Just follow my lead. Stand close to me. Now I’ll put my arms around you. God you’re shaking. Calm down. Relax. I’ll pet you my puppy. Now I’ll knead your bottom. Does that feel good? God you’re butt is tight. You need a massage. I’m a good masseuse. I never went to school for it. Guys say I’m a natural. There you go. You’re finally relaxing. Now I’m going to lick you under your ear. I bet you never knew a girl could make you feel so good. I was your student. Now be my pupil. Put your hands on my buttocks. Grip them tight. You like how I feel don’t you? I can tell by the fervor of your grasp on my rear.”  
     “I love holding your buns. They’re so luscious and muscular.”  
     “Now I’m going to kiss you. Let go of your    
virgin modesty. I’m going to tongue kiss you. You tutored me and now you’re my Chela” she says.    
     She tastes like tangerines, sun shower in my mouth as our tongues frolic together and our kiss becomes molten.    
     “I’m going to hold you so tight against me you’ll have trouble breathing. So breathe deep now. One, two, three, here we go. Would you like another one? This time we’re going to hold the kiss longer. I’m going to probe you with my tongue deeper and harder” she says.  
     “I love you” I say.  
     “You’re infatuated with me honey. You’re too young at heart to know about love. Now breathe real deep. Feel me ram rod you. I am fucking you with my tongue.”  
     “Am I still a virgin?”  
     “Honey, in my book you’re a virgin. Do you feel like one?”  
  “Well, sort of. Would you go all the way with me?”  
     “One day when we’re older. We’ll run into each other at a sidewalk café in New Orleans. We’ll talk and remember this moment. Then we’ll go to my place. I’ll give you that to hold onto. But for now let’s kiss one more time. I could kiss you all day.”  
     “Are women the closest thing to heaven for    
men?”  
     “Feel my hand down between your legs. Does that answer your question?”  
    My craft is less cunning sans Aphrodite. Her B grade eclipses my C.