*If my life is a mirror, why does mine have to be one-way with me on the wrong side*
(Thank you frontma for the edit. It is appreciated)
(Yes, this tale is supposed to be somewhat humorous and outrageous too. While not always comedic I'd like to think it is mostly a good-natured romp.)
Day One (It's a What?!?)
My first day of college began with a six a.m. wake-up alarm in our room. Both my roommate and I sat up at the same time. We looked at each other and the sheets failed to conceal we apparently both slept shirtless.
"Hi. You are a girl," I got off first.
"And you are a guy," she replied indignantly.
"What are you doing in my room? I mean, why did they give me a female roommate?" I countered.
"Ah...are you joking?" she asked incredulously. Clearly I wasn't, and that realization made her grin mischievously.
"Where is Glenda?" she inquired next.
"Ugh," I sighed. "When I was registered their system misspelled my name. My first name is Glenn, thus the Glenda, but I go by Zane, my middle name. What about you?"
"Whoops. I'm Rio Talon and this is going to be wicked," she giggled. "I have to admit I never thought I'd meet someone like you at FFU."
"You don't see quite the hardcore fundamentalist/survivalist type either," I responded.
"Ha!" she grunted. "You got me. It was either this or three years at a minimum security prison in Arizona," she confessed. She didn't volunteer what she would have done time for and it was really none of my business.
"I need to shower," I changed the subject.
"I'll go with you," Rio volunteered as she slipped out of bed, and yes, she was naked...and cleverly and artfully shaved with several delicate chevrons pointing down. She also had a black tattoo of the name Lilith going from the right hip along the bikini line – definitely not Church issue.
I went to the closet, got a robe, towel, and bathroom kit. Rio brazenly watched me move around.
"Body-conscious much?" she chuckled.
"Rio, I spent the last two years bathing down at the river with two hundred of my closest neighbors. Trying to cover up gets old really fast," I grinned back at her. "Does my body disgust you?"
"'Disgust' isn't the word I was going to use," Rio said as she licked her lips and also got ready for the bathroom. "Now, let's get you shaved before...the bathroom gets flooded with people. By the way," she tossed me Barbie's missing undies, "are these yours?"
"Booty from my panty raid; please don't turn me in," I chuckled, as I caught them, then stashed them in my backpack, hopefully to return to Barbie Lynn later. Rio laughed again.
As I suspected, not only did I get assigned a female roommate but I was on a female floor, which earned me more than a few shocked looks. Since Rio stuck close to me, she earned her own share of looks, but these were more scornful; Rio ate it up. I still couldn't decide whether I'd miss Rio or not when I got my new room assignment.
The two girls in the showers ignored Rio and I when we came in so I was able to shave in peace and get under a steamy shower without the expected shrieks. Only when they dressed in their robes and put on their glasses did things change. Their looks were best expressed as 'a boy saw me naked!' followed by 'A boy saw me naked...' and ended up with, 'A boy saw me naked and he liked what he saw.' I get hard when the wind blows – anywhere around the globe. They fled in a fit of giggles and I safely exited the bathroom before another girl entered.
It was hardly unforeseen that my attire made Rio laugh but when she suggested black horn-rimmed glasses would really complete the nerd-look, I had to laugh too. I noted her regulation skirt appeared to be a bit higher above the knee than was prudent with a pronounced lack of underwear. Rio confessed that her parents tossed all her 'stripper' wear when they shipped her off and she wasn't going to wear the 'granny' panties they had put in place of her G-strings.
The trek cross-campus to the Dining Hall would have been more enlightening if Rio had not lured me into an engrossing conversation. Remember now, I had been isolated from mainstream Western pop culture for over two years and had a lot of catching up to do. We grabbed some trays of breakfast; then, at Rio's insistence, we headed outside to eat pretty much by ourselves, or so we hoped.
"Professor..." inquired this cute brunette with pig tails, dimples, and into pushing her tits in my face; I barely noticed she was backed up by three other girls.
"Huh?" I questioned.
"Braxton," Rio spoke over me.
"Could you tell me...where the...um...Clegger Science Building is, Professor Braxton?" She lied pathetically.
My first thoughts were, 'why is she wearing such a thin white blouse two-sizes too small?' and wondering 'when is this thread holding that central button in place going to give up on it's hopeless struggle and let her boobs pop out?' Then I became curious why she called me 'professor'.
"It is right over there," I said, as I stood up, put my hand on the small of her back, and pointed the way with my other hand. The location of the building was blindingly obvious since this is not a huge campus.
If things weren't awkward enough, Ms. Brunette twisted, rubbed her hardening nipples against my chest, and asked,
"There?"
"No," I corrected by whispering into her ear, causing her to wiggle against me. I took her forearm, lingering my touch on the pulse of her wrist before directing it to the proper angle.
"I would walk you there," I added, "but we have to go to the auditorium soon."
"Thank you, Professor Braxton." She wiggled a third time. "It is really a pity I don't have any of your classes. What do you teach?"
"He's a Biblical Archeologist," Rio interrupted, "specializing in Early Christian Erotic Art and Rituals."
I felt Ms. Brunette have a micro-orgasm over that piece of fantastical news.
"Are you still taking on students?" Brunette panted to me. Rio jumped up.
"Whoops! Look at the time!" exclaimed Rio, "Professor, you have to go – Right Now!" With that, she dragged me away from Ms. Brunette and her girl posse and across campus.
"What the hell was that about and why did she call me Professor?" I hissed to Rio as we came to the auditorium for our first assembly.
"Oh, it must be some Southern thing, sort of like the English calling men 'Governor'," she lied convincingly. How do I now know she lied? It will become obvious.
I took a seat with Rio amongst the sea of students and it was just my luck that we were surrounded by girls once more. I really wasn't in the mood to have them gawk at me so I slumped down and kept a low profile. The auditorium sounded full-up and there was a magnitude of teachers and such on the stage.
When a stately, attractive, yet demanding and stern tall woman with long grey hair worked up in a bun stepped up to the podium, the hall grew silent. First she led us in prayer, which I found odd because normally at this level of fundamentalism, women couldn't lead men in prayer, but I could have cared less. She welcomed the rising seniors first, then worked down the list until she recognized the new class of freshmen, reminding them of their 'Handmaiden Duties,' whatever that was.
I looked to Rio who was stifling to suppress some dark glee, undoubtedly at my expense. The Chancellor of FFU worked us through some of what I assumed was normal school crap plus a reminder to review with diligence their code of moral and ethical behaviors and the names of their spiritual guidance counselors in case they felt wickedness overcoming them. Considering the thin white blouses and the short, pleated plaid skirts, yours truly and the other men on campus were going to be scoring like mad, morals and ethics be damned.
A closing prayer ended the meeting and we dispersed like good little sheep heading for our first class of the semester. Rio and I both had English Literature but in different rooms so she was kind/sadistic enough to drop me by my room before heading her own way. I walked in and took a middle seat. Once again all the girls looked at me funny when they came in and I couldn't miss the fact that in a classroom size of twenty, we had nineteen girls and only one guy – me.
I was mulling this over (I'm actually a smart guy but I admit, I hadn't been showing it too much recently) when our teacher came in. Her name was Ms. Goodswell (no lie) and she was a gorgeous brunette with breasts of greater proportions than Barbie Lynn's, and the rest just got lusher.
Ms. Goodswell leaned against the front of her large wooden writing desk and used her tablet to scroll down the roll call. I was number three.
"Braxton," her sugary sweet voice drawled out. "Glenda Braxton." I shifted in my seat.
"Here," I said in a clear masculine voice, "but I go by Zane."
Ms. Goodswell looked up over her reading glasses, expecting something other than me. As she looked at me her eyes grew larger...and she looked...and she looked.
