brushed the droplets off my sweatshirt before I walked inside. The room was semi-dark, and I paused before deciding to head to a seat at the far left corner against the wall.
I wasn’t sure what to expect tonight because I’d never even seen a full-length porno. Was there a plot? Was there even a point? Or full frontal? Yes, I’d seen the little snippets shown in class, but I had a feeling what I was about to view was nothing like that.
“Good evening, students,” Stanwick said as she made her way down the aisle. “Welcome to movie night, or the night you all wake up to the world around you , as I like to call it. Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to see why I have made this course my life’s work. Women are not animals, or to be used purely for sexual entertainment. Women are people.”
She made her way to the front of the room and stood in front of the lectern. “If you think you will find this evening humorous, or think of this subject with anything other than with the seriousness it warrants, please leave. I will excuse you. I’m giving you two minutes before I lock the door and we begin our journey.”
Only Cora Stanwick could stand at the front of a classroom for ninety seconds and the room remain absolutely still. She checked her watch and glanced at the audience as the back door creaked open and someone made their way toward the front.
I had been in such deep thought as to whether there would be BDSM or sodomy in the films, I’d forgotten who the intruder might be. When I looked up, I saw a tall figure dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and tight jeans.
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry I’m late,” Blane said in a hushed tone and took a seat on the other side of the auditorium.
Stanwick glared at him. “Who are you?”
“I’m here for the school paper, covering how seriously committed you are to teaching future women’s studies majors, Professor.”
“They didn’t tell me they were sending someone over, but it’s fine. Please have a seat and stay quiet. This is an important part of the learning process.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And don’t call me ma’am.”
With that, she walked over to the door and locked it before hitting the light switch, enveloping us in total darkness. Then the first movie rolled.
At first, I had to stifle a giggle.
It was a sunny Sunday afternoon, and there was a cop patrolling for speeders on a long stretch of highway. A woman was out for a drive after church, oddly enough wearing a cat suit and heels. Her makeup looked more like she was a stripper than a devout worshipper. She barreled down the dusty road in a sporty cherry-red convertible, the top down and the wind blowing her already artfully mussed hair. Out of nowhere, blue and red lights came on, swirling around the screen with a siren blaring, and the brunette bombshell looked surprised she was being pulled over.
A well-built cop practically bursting out of his tight uniform swaggered over to her car, and she leaned out the window, her lips all pouty.
“License and registration, please.”
“What did I do, sir?”
After a few moments of flirtatious banter, ripe with sexual innuendo, the cop ended up following the woman back to her apartment. As soon as they made it through the door, he slammed her against the wall and pressed his body against hers, kissing her. The kiss was deep and hungry as he practically devoured her, and the camera moved in tighter to pick up every stroke of his tongue. She shoved her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer as he pushed his pelvis against hers, grinding his erection into her, which elicited a wild moan from her lips.
Suddenly, I didn’t feel like giggling anymore. The lust was palpable. Passion emanated from them as if they weren’t acting. It was a feeling I wasn’t familiar with, even though I wasn’t a virgin. I’d lost it to kind and sensitive Robby Barnes in high school. He’d lasted thirty seconds, which was for the best because I was barely lubricated
I wasn’t sure what to expect tonight because I’d never even seen a full-length porno. Was there a plot? Was there even a point? Or full frontal? Yes, I’d seen the little snippets shown in class, but I had a feeling what I was about to view was nothing like that.
“Good evening, students,” Stanwick said as she made her way down the aisle. “Welcome to movie night, or the night you all wake up to the world around you , as I like to call it. Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to see why I have made this course my life’s work. Women are not animals, or to be used purely for sexual entertainment. Women are people.”
She made her way to the front of the room and stood in front of the lectern. “If you think you will find this evening humorous, or think of this subject with anything other than with the seriousness it warrants, please leave. I will excuse you. I’m giving you two minutes before I lock the door and we begin our journey.”
Only Cora Stanwick could stand at the front of a classroom for ninety seconds and the room remain absolutely still. She checked her watch and glanced at the audience as the back door creaked open and someone made their way toward the front.
I had been in such deep thought as to whether there would be BDSM or sodomy in the films, I’d forgotten who the intruder might be. When I looked up, I saw a tall figure dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and tight jeans.
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry I’m late,” Blane said in a hushed tone and took a seat on the other side of the auditorium.
Stanwick glared at him. “Who are you?”
“I’m here for the school paper, covering how seriously committed you are to teaching future women’s studies majors, Professor.”
“They didn’t tell me they were sending someone over, but it’s fine. Please have a seat and stay quiet. This is an important part of the learning process.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And don’t call me ma’am.”
With that, she walked over to the door and locked it before hitting the light switch, enveloping us in total darkness. Then the first movie rolled.
At first, I had to stifle a giggle.
It was a sunny Sunday afternoon, and there was a cop patrolling for speeders on a long stretch of highway. A woman was out for a drive after church, oddly enough wearing a cat suit and heels. Her makeup looked more like she was a stripper than a devout worshipper. She barreled down the dusty road in a sporty cherry-red convertible, the top down and the wind blowing her already artfully mussed hair. Out of nowhere, blue and red lights came on, swirling around the screen with a siren blaring, and the brunette bombshell looked surprised she was being pulled over.
A well-built cop practically bursting out of his tight uniform swaggered over to her car, and she leaned out the window, her lips all pouty.
“License and registration, please.”
“What did I do, sir?”
After a few moments of flirtatious banter, ripe with sexual innuendo, the cop ended up following the woman back to her apartment. As soon as they made it through the door, he slammed her against the wall and pressed his body against hers, kissing her. The kiss was deep and hungry as he practically devoured her, and the camera moved in tighter to pick up every stroke of his tongue. She shoved her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer as he pushed his pelvis against hers, grinding his erection into her, which elicited a wild moan from her lips.
Suddenly, I didn’t feel like giggling anymore. The lust was palpable. Passion emanated from them as if they weren’t acting. It was a feeling I wasn’t familiar with, even though I wasn’t a virgin. I’d lost it to kind and sensitive Robby Barnes in high school. He’d lasted thirty seconds, which was for the best because I was barely lubricated
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