1 comments/ 82479 views/ 6 favorites Seventh Sister By: ProfessorR Caley teasingly rubbed my balding head as she pressed the firm nipples of her young breasts against me. Despite the four decades of life experiences that separated us, I felt the familiar surge that she was after power through me as I held her close. It was to be our last night and morning, and, well, lunchtime together. It still seemed strange as I thought about it afterward while writing to my dear and wise friend at her new job in Marin County. ============ Dear Sophia, As you requested, I'm writing to endorse the admission of Caley _______ to the School for Social Expression. [As readers of my earlier stories know, and as skilled seducers and seductresses around the globe know, that's the cover name for the School for Sexual Expression.] I think that you and the admissions committee have made a wise choice, but I understand why you want information from me as to how this brilliant young scientist also will benefit from your program. At the risk of sounding trite, I think that you will see that the world will benefit from her participation. Let me explain. My introduction to Caley came about through a program run by your alumna Val __________ ........ ============ I leaned back in my chair and remembered that evening. Val had survived so much, not just run of the mill racial prejudice, but she had risked her life in helping our mutual friend Dean's undercover efforts against a plot that imperiled an important part of the G-7 conference in Denver [Read AT THE SUMMIT in this site.]. Her mastery of Sexual Expression had shone brightly as she hypnotized the rogue cop who had been sent to disrupt Val and Val's friends' efforts. We still grinned when we sat around the parlor of the old Bed & Breakfast in North Denver and heard again how the sight of her bared breasts had stopped the cop in his tracks and drawn his eyes to the gently swaying necklace with the endlessly entwining and very hypnotic logo of the School for Sexual Expression. We still hope someday that the security classification that keeps her from telling about her earlier adventures alongside Dean will be lifted. There were delicious rumors in the intelligence community that her seductive trick with her breasts had saved countless lives before I knew her, including perhaps her own. In fact, it was in her parlor that I learned about Val's most recent project. She was in a positive mood as she told me about it. "You're not the only one around here now who's called 'Professor'" she bragged. "Well, people still call me that, but since I left the University of ___________ I haven't taught a class. I guess the research that I do qualifies, but I haven't been around students much at all since then." There were some reasons for staying away from students, most notably the efforts by my former department head to organize charges of sexual harassment after he caught me eagerly fucking Cindy in my office -- the cheerleader who he had the hots for. That Cindy had come so willingly, again and again to me, and that she gained nothing but pleasure from doing it had not been relevant to him. Val nodded, knowing the story about my arranged departure from the midwestern university. I still thought about going back to teaching, but was not sure what the department head might have told colleagues. Yes, perhaps I should have shown more fight, but I was also enjoying the freedom to carry on my research with the foundation grant that Sophia had set up. After all, not many professors lived in Denver's elegant Oxford Hotel! "So how have you gained the title?" I queried. I smiled, because I knew that Val always had interesting stories to tell, and she liked to start with a tease. "I'm giving sex ed classes at sororities in the universities around here." I looked at Val with some puzzlement, which made her laugh. Her straightforward answer was not what I was expecting. "Don't they pretty well know everything by then, or at least think so?" I asked. "I haven't just read the statistics, I've had them in my office!" I started to tell her about the recent media discussions about the rise in women's enjoyment of pornography. Val laughed again. "Looking at porn or getting a sex ed class in school still doesn't mean that they can enjoy sex. That's what my class is covering... and it's co-ed." I raised an eyebrow. "You guys," she continued, "think that you already know everything. So a woman selects a man to mate with, as we've been doing for thousands of years, and she gets a guy who acts like a caveman. Or, she's up on all the technical stuff, and doesn't know how to really pleasure him -- and keep him up as much as she wants. That's what I'm working on." "Oh." I had to think about that. "It's really worthwhile to see the results," she added. She turned to an old-fashioned rolltop desk in the Victorian parlor and rummaged through some papers. "Here's a letter from one of the sorority sisters," she said as she thrust it at me. It basically reminded Val of the frustration that had resulted in them calling on her. Apparently her marketing for this class was oral. And from the letter, oral was what this particular young woman wanted. She described with glee how her boyfriend came down on her with enthusiasm after their sessions with Val. My eyes grew bigger as I realized that she was also thrilled at her friends' excitement for her... as they watched. "It sounds as though you're running an orgy of some kind." "Not at all, it's very structured," she insisted. "There are goals, objectives, the whole bit." "I've been to orgies that had goals and objectives. In fact, I recall that you were at one of them." I was sounding a bit peevish, I realized. "True, but I think that if you let yourself be a bit more open-minded, you'd understand what I'm doing." She paused, and I couldn't think of anything else to say at the moment, so there was silence for a while. I listened to the old grandfather clock ticking in the hallway. The one that at midnight showed old grandfather chasing a village maiden. Suddenly Val's old smile was back. "Why don't you come to the next session with me?" she asked. I started to excuse myself, but then realized how silly I was being. "When is it?" She wrote out the information for me. We'd be meeting the students off-campus, of course, and not in the sorority house. If anything became public, they could deny it. The address was a big condo near the new light rail station out in the Southeast suburbs. "Most of these young people," Val explained, "come from affluent suburbs, and there's always a senior whose daddy is buying a condo for her." The seniors who shared the place would be off for the weekend skiiing. Val's class would be freshmen and sophomores new to the sorority, and their dates. There was something else. "Uhh, I need to tell you that the guys don't know that it's educational. You can talk with them to learn more about it, but don't tip them off to anything. They just think it's a party where they might get lucky." "Will they?" "Luckier than they think." Val's big smile was back, as she patted her generous breasts where the chains that I saw led to her School for Sexual Expressions necklace. As always, thoughts of rich and delicious chocolate milkshakes topped with red cherries flashed through my mind. ============ I went back to my keyboard and continued my official letter to Sophia. She would want to hear all these details, but the letter had to be dry and academic. "I first met Caley at a sorority event..." I typed. ============ Val and I caught the train out to the Southeast condo. She explained that for reasons of discretion she didn't use her car, and besides, the condo had a parking problem. It was a Friday evening, and when we stopped at the University Station we could see eager student bodies assembling for the train in the other direction, to LoDo, where I lived. The young women were dressed in the most expensive sex-attractant outfits their parents' money could buy. The young men were mostly dressed in jeans and t-shirts. They hung in gender-segregated groups for the most part. "There it is," Val said, waving her hand in a general way toward the crowd outside the train window. "And, here is our hope for the future." I had not noticed the group that had coalesced on the train. They sat in gender-specific groups, too, but they did seem to acknowledge the opposite group's existence. They sat across the aisle from each other and talked across the aisle. A couple of them at any given time punched keys on cellphones. A security guard ambled through, and one of the young guys took his feet off the facing seat. The young women - from a variety of ethnic groups - giggled about some shared secret. They did not pay any attention to us. Then I noticed a seventh female, a serious looking sorority sister, Caley. Her bright eyes betrayed a deep interior that she was trying to cover with an air of indifference. The seats were in fours, and she sat alone. Everyone else seemed to be paired up with a buddy. It's not as if she was left out-- there were two girls sitting across the aisle from her on the opposite seat, so that they faced her. But they talked to each other, only occasionally acknowledging her. They were not hostile to her, just not interested in including her in their conversation. I nudged Val and quietly asked her about the silent woman. "Sometimes they get someone who's really strong academically into their sorority to help them with their grades," she murmured. I looked her over, my experienced eyes easily penetrating the party outfit that did not quite look like her choice of attire. The chatter in the train should have covered Val's and my voices, but after a bit, I noticed her looking at us with curiousity. Had she heard? Did it matter to her? The train flew through a big junction in the middle of the freeway interchange and settled down in the center of the Interstate. I looked out at the golf course and other green spaces, so different from my big city district, and let my mind drift toward what was ahead. "How do things usually go?" I queried. "Are there problems?" "Just about every time, something goes wrong, but I usually come up with a solution." I believed Val, as I knew how resourceful she could be. The train, which had been racing cars on the highway, suddenly braked and we were up and off before I could really think about it. The university students tumbled out noisily from the next door, while Val and I looked around at the suburban setting. A footbridge led across a wetland -- or maybe it should have been called a swamp -- and there was a congregation of condos at the other end of the bridge. Some of the students knew where to head, they had partied here before, so we followed them. I am old enough to remember shag carpeting and orange refrigerators the first time around, so it was amusing to me to see that the place was decorated in a 1970's retro look. There was even Indian music playing in the background, despite there being no other sign of that nation's culture, unless I included the computer help desk number posted by the home's computer. Unlike the 1970's, I didn't see any sign of drugs. There were beverages of various sorts, but no keg. Allison's boyfriend acting as bartender poured cautiously. If I had not known Val, I would have thought that this would be a fairly dull party. I noticed that some of the students looked disappointed when they saw the modest liquor offerings. Nevertheless, some of the guys tried to start on Liquid Courage. I overheard one of them telling his buddies that with enough of the hard stuff, he could ask women for their phone numbers and then not feel bad when he was rejected. I heard no indication that he had ever tried asking them when he was sober. Just when everyone was beginning to form into conversation cliques, I realized that Caley was being left out. Or, perhaps, she was not very interested in the conversation. Any conversations that include the names Lindsey Lohan or Paris Hilton might not grab the interest of a certain serious kind of student. I walked over to her and introduced myself, then asked about her studies. Caley was a Chem major and already had her sights set on grad school. She was interested in research into biochemistry, and she mentioned the name of some compound that rang a bell in the back of my head. I had to confess that I didn't know much about that field, but that I liked the way her eyes started to sparkle as she got to talking about it. I was starting to find her more interesting than I had expected. At the same time, I began to realize that she was puzzling over my name, as if she knew it from somewhere. Having a common name means that happens fairly often, so at the time I didn't ask her about her reading habits on the Internet. We were interrupted -- everyone was interrupted -- by our hostess asking for everybody's attention for a few minutes. This took some effort on Allison's part -- our hostess -- because everyone was so deep into their conversational circles that they did not want to notice her. "Guys, we've got some business to take care first," she asserted towards a circle of men who first ignored her, then offered groans or sighs. "Then there'll be more to drink (cheers followed) -- if you want it." That was an interesting turn of phrase, I thought. My friend seemed to read my mind, and leaned forward to whisper to me that Allison was at Val's last year session. She had a general idea of what might happen. "First of all," and then she looked at a list, "where's Ted? Ted was supposed to be here tonight, right?" This explained why they were one male short. Someone was a no-show. "This isn't going to work right." "We going to do party games?" one of the six men snorted in disgust, imitating some stereotypical street thug from a music video. Allison ignored him and went over to consult for a moment with Val. Then she bounced back with a smile. "We'll ask the Professor to stand in for Ted. Maybe Ted will get here late." There was some nervous laughter and half-hearted agreement. I looked quizically at Val, who grinned a reassuring sort of grin. Or maybe it was something else. "Well, we'll start with a kind of game. Which one of you gentlemen is the youngest?" There was some quibbling, and then the males pushed Brad, a freshman, forward. He was followed by derisive comments about whether he needed to shave every day. He blushed and looked uncomfortable. "You get to choose first." "Choose what?" he murmured defensively. "The woman who you're going to have tonight." There was instantly an uproar that must have been audible on the passing trains. Allison stood there smiling. Val looked calm and in control. "That isn't how things work," the words came spilling out. The young students looked around at each other, as if to see what the official group reaction would be. But they were too stunned to move. "That's how things are going to work tonight. Didn't you come here tonight hoping to get laid?" The confused young men nodded "yes" and said "no, not really.... well, maybe." He looked as though he might run out of the room. The young women chortled. Then I noticed Val holding his hand in a peculiar way-- a handshake induction. His head drooped and his eyes closed. Val spoke to him quietly, reassuringly. And then he brightened up and rejoined our conscious world. "Now that I've reassured Brad, let me explain how this program works," Val said to the group. Each of the men will choose a woman for this evening, in order of your age. The Professor will have to go last." And, so, sort of like choosing a baseball team, each of the young men chose a woman. There was lots of noise and discussion and questions were asked. (Apparently, the sorority sisters knew this much about the evening's program. They did not seem as surprised as the men.) You can imagine how that worked out eventually. The freshman overcame his shock and chose Andrea, whose breasts defied the ability of her decorative, lightweight bra to hold them. On the other end of the list, Caley was left unselected. I had thought that this approach might have angered her or depressed her, but instead, there was a smile on her face. "Isn't this just like something in one of your stories, Professor?" Caley asked. "I was hoping that we'd end up together. Ted's kind of a nothing, so we won't miss him." "You recognized my name from the Internet?" "Not exactly, Allison did." I looked over at our hostess, but she was trying to answer questions from several directions. The place was in an uproar. I could barely hear Caley, but realized that she was trying to explain to me how Allison had taken her under her wing. Quite likely, even if Allison did not feel a genuine liking for Caley, the older student had the perspective to realize that their sorority needed her gifts. "Allison helped me choose this outfit," Caley confided to me. Allison was trying to get the group quieted down again. "We're going to let Val explain more about our topic for this evening. Let's just be patient and hear what she has to say." Now there was more murmuring -- horny murmuring -- from the group. But Val ignored it and began speaking... speaking patiently... slowly... hypnotically. Allison drifted quietly off to another room. Val's very presence in front of them caused them to gradually quiet down, but then the Liquid Courage guy belched a junior high sort of belch - the attention-demanding kind. There was some laughing, and then he blurted out something like "come on, get it over with." Val turned to face him. There was a buzz of curiousity in the room. Someone mentioned his name, Matt, in an undertone. As she unbuttoned a couple of buttons on her blouse, the buzz increased. I caught a wink from Val, just before she pulled the hypnotic necklace from her bosom. Mr. Liquid Courage could not help but let his eyes be drawn to the flowery edge of her low-cut bra, and he almost was able to say something else before he eased into a deep trance. "You are among friends here... it is a very relaxing setting Matt..." she intoned. "But it is warm here, too." Those were true statements. "When you awaken it will still be warm... when it is so warm you think about taking off your clothing. You are among friends here... they will approve." His friends stood silently now, watching curiously. Matt was easily coaxed into making himself more comfortable, peeling off clothing at Val's direction. Soon Val had him so happy about it that he whistled a goofy tune as he stood in his underpants. One of the girls -- Ashley -- began to snicker. Val turned toward her and flashed her necklace in Ashley's direction, and the snickering subsided. A few whispered words from Val and the snickering turned to an apologetic whimper. Matt had chosen her and now she had been unappreciative of the compliment. "Kneel and apologize to Matt!" Val commanded. Ashley looked askance for a moment and then did as she was told. Matt's underpants stretched taut in front of her. Val turned toward the remaining group as the two remained frozen in front of us. "Matt and Ashley are going to offer our first training lesson -- how to improve oral sex." There was a wave of heated discussion. It seems that everyone knew that sex would be one of the likely outcomes of this evening, but I think that the women thought that some sort of studs that they didn't know would be their parteners. And the men originally thought that a bunch of party sluts from the community, whatever that meant, were going to be theirs for the evening. Instead, this seemed to involve them intimately with people who they KNEW. "You seem to be uneasy about this, perhaps you should try to relax." Val addressed the room. She was warning us. Seventh Sister Caley almost let herself be caught by the glancing light flashing off of the School for Sexual Expression logo. I squeezed her arm just in time, and she turned toward me in surprise. When she saw the warning in my eyes, she looked intently at me. That was just long enough for all the rest of the room but one to go under. She watched wide-eyed now as Val checked each student's trance and instructed each to be prepared to accept her commands and to lose their inhibitions in front of the group tonight. One woman, a tall and slender African-American -- Jamiria, we learned later -- had also missed the group trance command by looking away and focusing on some idea of her own. I realized as I looked at her sizing Val up that she was a cut above the average intelligence, so likely had gotten into this university on her own merits, rather than on her family's influence. "Young lady," Val looked at her scoldingly, "if you don't let me put you under with the rest of them, they're going to think that you are getting a special deal." That was a different approach, I thought. "Someone as intelligent as you should appreciate that." Jamiria said "I can handle this without being in a trance." "You probably can, but let's have a quick test." "You can't hypnotize me if I don't want to be hypnotized." "Of course, but can you imagine what you're going to see in a few minutes?" "Yes, and I'm not shocked." Jamiria said that firmly, so I wondered where this was going. "Even if you close your eyes, so that you can really visualize it?" "Yes, see.... I'm closing my eyes," and she did. Perhaps she thought that Val's only specialty was flashing that School for Sexual Expression alumni necklace around. "Can you imagine that Tony [the Hispanic fellow who had chosen her as his partner for the evening] is standing over you?" "Yes, so...?" "And can you imagine his penis is very erect?" "I've seen one or two of those." "But you aren't looking up at him, are you? He's standing over you. If you're not afraid to look at that penis, roll your eyeballs back up in your head as if you can see his balls right above you... roll them up to right here [and Val tapped Jamiria's forehead]. Roll your eyeballs way back to look at him -- isn't he majestic? -- and as you do your eyelids lock tightly closed... the more you try to open them the tighter they are locking closed... now try to open your eyelids... but you'll see that they are locking together tighter and tighter..." The young woman strained to open her eyelids, but they would not. "But if you listen to my suggestions, you can relax and then your eyelids can open." Val began a series of relaxation instructions, and Jamiria gradually settled into a comfortable trance, like the rest of the group. Val looked over toward Caley and me with a question mark on her face. I shook my head and mouthed the words, "Caley will be okay with me." And Caley squeezed me so tightly that I blushed. "Thank you, you won't forget this night," she whispered after a kiss. Val rolled her eyes at me. Then Val dropped the necklace between her chocolate mounds and rebuttoned her blouse. She was covered with perspiration from the effort that she had put into gaining the young woman's cooperation. The post-hypnotic suggestions worked out very simply. It was amazing how much these pupils were prepared to learn now. "How many of you have tried fellatio?" A third of the students raised their hands. Val rephrased it into more familiar terms and another third raised their hands. "How many of you women have swallowed cum?" A majority of the hands went down. I wondered what Val was leading up to. Caley had not raised her hand for any of the questions so far. "How many of you have tried cunnilingus?" Only about a third of the hands went up. "Okay." Calmly, but clearly, Val explained her lesson plan. Each couple would demonstrate a sex act for the group. Val would critique what they did and they would go back and do it over again. If everyone learned quickly, there would be time for a free-style session afterward (which seemed to sound more like an orgy to me). "It looks as though Matt and Ashley have volunteered to do our first demonstration," Val said. They were still frozen where they had been left before the group trance. "Matt, I have a question for you." Val asked him to relax while she talked with him. "What would be the best way for Ashley to give you head?" The group stood calmly watching. "She could rip my underpants off and suck my dick." Matt seemed to be the direct type. "And why would she do that?" Val queried. There was dead silence. "Anyone in the group want to offer a suggestion?" Val looked around. "He could get her so turned on first that she'd want to do it," a woman's voice asserted. It was Jamiria. She looked meaningfully at Tony and licked her lips. I realized that even though he was still fully clothed, she could easily visualize his erection, thanks to Val's trance-story telling. "Exactly." Matt looked puzzled. This seemed to be a new concept for him. "Matt, instead of hoping that Ashley will rip your clothes off, let's let Jamiria show you how to approach Ashley. How would you like someone to do that, Jamiria?" The slender black woman approached the passive Ashley and taking Matt's hands in hers, showed him how to caress blonde Ashley. When Matt caught the idea, Jamiria would take her hands away, and Matt continued. Ashley lips found Matt's and without paying particular attention to us, the two were drawn into more and more intense lovemaking. Jamiria whispered coaching suggestions into Matt's ear, and as the couple fed each other's desires, it was not long before the blonde knelt, grabbing his briefs as she did so, and his penis burst free. Her lips found it and caressed up and down his shaft -- guided in her actions by coaching from Val. His penis climbed to the lock position, hard and ready. "Now, class, what do you think she should do with that?" Val looked around the group. In their trance-aided calmness, they offered a variety of suggestions. The consensus was that she should keep going until he came, and that is just what she did. She licked her lips catlike as the group applauded. And so it went, as each couple demonstrated some enjoyable position or activity, Val picked a knowledgeable volunteer and let them join her in the coaching. In a group like this, she noted, almost everyone knew something that would contribute. "But what about Caley?" someone said as Jamiria climbed happily off of Tony's manhood. They had just finished the last demonstration, showing how many different angles of penetration could be enjoyed. Tony looked winded and satisfied. "And what about the Professor?" "Yes!" someone said. Fortunately, Caley and I had held a whispered consultation as we watched. I knew she had been enjoying the evening with deepening intensity; I noticed the way that she ran her hands along her thighs, and then I began to sense her heat. "Caley and I are going to demonstrate making love for an hour." There was something of an uproar. "But you're too old!" someone came right out with it. Someone else said that would be like paint drying. Val winked at me. I held Caley's hand and led her forward to the couch. It was still warm where Tony's firm butt had worked so hard at getting his penis into Jamiria's remotest spots. I offered what I hoped was a brief enough explanation, hoping that they would remember it as they matured, or when they took an older lover. I explained that if they paid attention, they would discover this knowledge being a joy even now, as they could have sex after having sex, and build intimacy with their partner while doing it. I explained about how the master Internet guide for cocksmen, David Shade, had provided new techniques and that we would demonstrate them. Caley's brilliant mind had already comprehended this, and now I saw some of the women at least interested. The guys, I knew, would take a demonstration to be convinced. "Are you ready?" I whispered to Caley. She shivered, but smiled. Without being in a trance, it was brave of her to offer to do this, but I knew that once I began, she would concentrate, and then enter the sexual trance that Shade's material and my previous experience would give to her. And, you may ask, what was I thinking about? I was realizing that it had now been about a decade since I had taken a college woman as a lover. After leaving the University of ____________, I had become involved with Sophia and had then consciously tried to keep from experiencing younger women. I was perfectly at ease with that situation, but now here were Caley's slight breasts trembling in my hands. Back in the day, as people say, it was like riding a bicycle. Caressing, stroking, and whispering sweet messages, I lured my partner's subconscious mind to fire off the flood of chemicals that would wash through her brain and set her slim body into the barely satiable pleasure mode. For some, it was a one-time experience, riding me to satisfaction in the big leather chair in my office. Others, such as cheerleader Cindy, seemingly became addicted to sex with me, thereby allowing her to play hard-to-get virgin with a wealthy catch elsewhere on campus, while satisfying her natural urges in an orderly way. I was being used, and enjoyed it immensely when she got into the habit of simply reaching into my desk drawer and pulling out one of the deluxe condoms that I kept handy there. Now, so many years later, Caley was responding to my touch and beginning to let the rest of the room spin away. I overheard one of the guys muttering to another, "why doesn't he get her bra off? Come on!" Val made a move as though to renew the trance, but then she caught me shaking my head. Instead, I hoped that they would come to understand what I was doing. As Caley writhed seductively in my arms, I caressed her breasts through her bra, kissed its outlines, and then taught her nipples to enjoy hot and cold through the thin fabric. As I had learned back at the University, her desire grew intense, and her nipples pressed urgently for escape. Finally, she begged for release, and I swept my hand under her bra and popped it up to expose her naked eagerness for my kisses. More clothes flew off and we kissed topless, but with our pants still on, for way longer than the audience would have liked, I'm sure. But I was not going to short-change Caley's moment, and as it was apparent that these guys did not know how much women enjoyed that simple feeling of being held intimately, I was going to make sure that they understood it before we went on to other things. Now my hands were everywhere inside her clothes, even grazing over her mound and teasing her clit. It was growing firmer by the moment, as each tease confirmed. I was enjoying her responsiveness now, and soon the rest of our clothes somehow ended up on the floor. (There was quite a collection there, and part of our audience was clad in whatever they had been able to find after their turns in the spotlight.) Caley came up for air, leaning her head back, and before she could say what she had now to say, I could see in her eyes that she had entered the sexual trance that I expected of my lover. "Richard," she whispered urgently, "I need you to fuck me. Now." There was a noticeable reaction in the room. No one knew that Caley would use a word like that. I smiled a lusty smile, because I knew that this intelligent lover was chosing the exact word with the exact meaning for what she wanted now. I nodded, kissed her, and then eased her down beside me on the couch. My fingers gave her the first orgasms, each cascading over the top of the previous one. The room spun for Caley, but those around us stood motionless, I believe, as they saw the hidden sexuality of their intellectual sister bursting into the world. My fingers went deeper, preparing her, as they slipped easily within. Of course, she was already wet, just like in porno stories, but my steady progress would open her innermost rings to pleasure. I paused for a few minutes, as I taught Caley's clit to rise on my command. Usually this took longer back at the University-- it had been fun to signal a woman seated in the student lounge as I passed through and watch her eying me hungrily while she shifted her legs to hide her rapid response -- but, that would not be possible until we had done it a few times. Caley had witnessed an evening of healthy, powerful sex, and now she was ready for her share and more. The guys' eyes grew wide as they watched her clit emerge from its shrine like a man's penis, eager for my kisses, soon offered. Val passed us a condom, as she had for the others, and the women watched with interest as I showed Caley how to roll it securely onto my shaft, carefully leaving space for my cum. Now I showed Caley how to stretch out on her side, as I lay down beside her. At this point, I really was on automatic pilot, too, but the magic of this moment was that in this position, and with my experience, I could drive deep into Caley's very soul. There is a violent way to do that, an eager way to do that, and then there is the mature way. Each way leaves a lifelong impression, but only one way assures a man of a permanent invitation to return. My penis explored her opening, rewarded her G-Spot, and then as her vaginal orgasm exploded around me, I moved deep into her. That orgasm was easily forgotten by the next one that gripped me in its lusty power. She tried to keep her eyes open as we did this -- I asked her to -- but did not tell her that she would be unable to do so within a few minutes. Of course, as long as her eyes remained open, I was able to look intensely into her thoughts, and take the feedback that she offered and magnify it from our comfortable side position with more of the cocksmanship that she now craved. And, as she struggled to keep her eyes open, her sexual trance deepened. "Fuck me..." she panted, "... I need you, Richard..." She grabbed wildly at the edge of the couch and then at me to keep from falling as the room spun. With her vagina pulsing powerfully around me now, I pushed against her cervix and she screamed, not with pain, but with joy. We went through this cycle several times, sometimes with her blacking out -- I was not counting because I was lost in her loving erotic energy field now -- and finally I felt the hot signal to my balls, to my penis, and through her convulsive breathing to my chest -- her subconscious telling me that her body was ready for my sperm. When I was a student, I never even knew about the signal, because we always came wildly and then fell apart. Now, it penetrated my haze, and I let myself go, flexing my muscles to respond to her divine rapture. Caley and I finally pulled apart from each other, my fingers on my condom to keep it from slipping off of my very tired and wet penis. I heard voices saying something like "it really WAS about an hour... look at the clock... who knew that an old guy could do that? That Caley is hot..." In the meantime, I learned later, Val had rebooted the group's trance. Even Jamiria went easily this time, having learned how much fun it would become. Caley and I had never heard her instructions, but before we could stagger off of the couch, Val commanded the group to "enjoy the orgy that you came here for." Well, yes, it was an orgy. I noticed that our host Allison had returned, wearing the sexy nightgown that she must have put on while we were busy. It was soon off and out of the way, as she joined in the excitement. Val winked at Caley and me, and then turned to Matt, who was being caressed by Ashley. With a sign from her, Matt's tired penis sprang to life again, and Val soon had him learning to touch her pleasure spots with it, as Ashley cuddled them both. That was just one corner of the room, it was a little hard to see what all was coming on. One by one, the night's excitement overwhelmed the six fraternity brothers and six sorority sisters, and they began to nod off. Caley and I kept dibs on the couch, and eventually dozed off in each other's arms. The morning was very strange. Apparently, there was something about Val's post-hypnotic commands that let people go about the room finding most of their clothing, let them wash up, and then they were on their way in couples, back to campus. They left at intervals, till finally just Caley, Allison, Val and I were to share breakfast in the apartment. We were quite a comical group, I would think, our clothes in forms of disarray, Allison making toast in her sexy nightie, Val still a bit wobbly from the instruction session with Matt, and Caley and I touching each other at every opportunity. Val's plan rolled on as we chatted. A phone call to the cellphone of each of the class members, and a few words from Val, and their memories of the night before turned to dreams. Reality folded into fantasy, but their lessons remained. Their remaining college days would be sweetened by joyous sex that would be whispered about enviously by others. That would be especially true with their friends from that night. Caley had a plan, too, it turned out. At first, she had been reluctant to attend this event, but Allison had convinced her to join us. The night's events had coalesced with her earlier thinking. Yes, she admitted, she needed hot sex, she was as much a woman as anyone else genetically assigned to that role. But she wanted to focus on her science. She had dreams of being one of the top people in her field, and they were realistic dreams. But what would happen on Saturday night when she wasn't in the lab? Val understood, and bit by bit, revealed the idea of sending Caley to the School for Sexual Expression. Caley's professional interests might even gain her a scholarship, because having a distinguished graduate was just as important for that school as for any other -- it brought in more bright students and donations. ============ And so -- I typed for Sophia -- it is hard not to visualize Caley taking some personal time while one of her lab experiments goes on. She may be advancing in the world of science, but with what she will have learned at the School for Sexual Expression, it should be easy for us to visualize her lab assistant kneeling to give her head. Or perhaps at a conference, we can picture her relaxing after one of those brutal defenses of a scholarly paper, with two of the men who so strongly criticized her work now drawn hypnotically to her room and caressing her from opposite sides of the king size, begging, pleading to be the first chosen to enter her. ============ As I described at the beginning, it was our last night to be together in Denver. Sometime around 3 a.m., Caley let out a shriek that woke both of us. "I'm okay!" she reassured me. "It's just that I feel so... different. I never felt like this with someone before." I tried to explain to her how okay it was to feel that way. I knew that she would learn the psychology of that at the Marin County school. "You've never been truly penetrated before," I guessed, "and your subconscious is just now really taking that in." Caley looked as though she wanted to argue with that, but then she understood my meaning. I had truly been in her, become a part of her, as she had me. And the scream had marked her entry into a new world as she understood her ability to have that experience when she needed it. I could hear the Nobel committee talking about her now. ###