(Note: since my readers are wondering if the "Susan" in my different tales is all the same person – and the answer is no – the Susan in this series is now Suzette, for further clarification)
The students showed up very early.
All four girls had big smiles on their faces, anticipating today's lesson. Perhaps some of the smiles were inspired by the memory of what had happened when I taught them about female sexuality (see "Class Time"). Today's class, scheduled after lunch time, would cover male sexuality. Amanda flicked her long blonde hair back from her face and asked, rather impishly I thought, "Will Mistress Polly be joining us?"
"No, she cannot be here today," I answered. After the "fiasco" of her last visit (even though things ultimately turned out fine), I admitted to myself that I was a bit relieved about this. Dealing with a naked male in my classroom felt like it would be enough of a challenge to my professionalism. I was determined that this class would be conducted in a much more "normal" manner, and I would keep my simmering passions under tight control.
The students did appear to be attentive, listening to the morning's lessons, and even participated with questions and joined into the general discussions. But I did notice that they seemed to be glancing at the clock more often than they normally did.
Lunch time came, and went.
Now I began glancing at the clock myself, wondering where Michael was. I was certain that I had told him the correct day and time, and had given him clear directions to the classroom. Since I met him in an art class, where he served as the nude model, I didn't think that he was having second thoughts about exhibiting his body for this class. Of course, the situation was not exactly the same. Modeling in an art class is very asexual. I had explicitly explained to him that this class dealt with male sexuality. He had indicated to me that was no problem for him, so where was he? I tried sending him a text, but got no reply.
I could not let our time go to waste. "We will go on to other subjects until Michael gets here," I informed the class. "Don't worry, we will still cover the material once he arrives," I assured them.
The students' faces and body language clearly displayed their disappointment as the hours passed. I couldn't blame them – I had been looking forward to doing this class ever since I arranged it. Several sodden pairs of panties could attest to how much I had been anticipating it.
Imagine our surprise when 5 minutes before the end of the day Michael came dashing into the room, apologizing profusely. "I had a flat tire," he explained. "Since I don't have a spare, I had to wait until a good Samaritan happened along to take me and the tire to a repair place. To top it off, my cell phone battery ran out of charge yesterday, and I forgot to recharge it, so there was no way I could call for help, or call to let you know what was going on."
"I understand, Michael – these things happen," I reassured him. "Unfortunately the school day has reached its end, so we will have to reschedule."
There were immediate vigorous complaints from the students. Amanda, for instance, argued, "But you promised we would have this class today."
"But the school day is over," I countered. "What do you all expect me to do about that?"
Michael piped in, "I'm here finally, and I have plenty of time. I'm willing to stay right now," he offered.
"Yes. Yes, please let us stay," begged Judy.
"Well, if you're all quite certain." This statement was met with five heads bobbing to signal acceptance. "Let me make a quick phone call."
I called Mistress Polly to let her know I would be late, and why.
She said, "Give them a memorable class, my girl." I was too flustered by this sudden change in my schedule to fully appreciate what this might entail.
Since there were only the 4 young ladies, we cleared a small space in the room as Michael undressed. In the center of this space we placed a low table for him to stand on. When Michael climbed up onto the table, his crotch ended up at head height as we stood around him – perfect for viewing. Unfortunately, my proximity to his exposed crotch made me more aware of his male scent, wafting from his sparse, dark pubic hairs. I tried not to inhale too deeply, or at least be caught doing it.
I began with the basics.
"In the male, gamete production, the formation of sperm, begins in the testes, located in the scrotal sac." I pointed to it.
Michael's uncircumcised penis was draped down over his scrotum at this point. Judy asked, "Can we see it better, Professor?"
"Michael, I will have to lift up your penis. Is that okay with you?" I inquired, looking up his well formed torso, and into his eyes.
"You mean my cock?" he asked, his face turning a delicate pink as the pronounced the word. "Yes, Molly. I'm game for anything," he chuckled with a slightly nervous smile.
I lifted his penis with a delicate thumb and forefinger, trying not to focus on how smooth and warm his flesh felt in my hand. I showed the young ladies his scrotum, covered with a matting of short delicate hairs. "Did he trim those hairs specially for this class?" I wondered to myself.
"The scrotum has a central partition, so each testis is isolated to its own side," I described.
"Could you demonstrate that to us somehow, Professor?" Suzette inquired.
