This story continues where "College Education" left off. For those who enjoyed Ben's first lesson, you should appreciate his expanded curriculum as well. For those who have not read "College Education," you will find it introduces Ben's wonderful innocence (perhaps unbelievable to some of you, but true) and some of Diane's promiscuous nature. Be advised, however, that this writer generally prefers erotica to porn … feelings and emotions are paramount. If you're looking for straight, in-your-face sex, you may wish to look elsewhere. If you decide to read on, I hope you enjoy one of the greatest lessons of my life.
I concluded my first intercourse with the thought that it doesn't get any better than this. But I was wrong.
Silly. My hand was indeed in her hand as we walked to my dorm for a change of clothes to go out. The clasped hands were even swinging a little as we glanced at each other and grinned from time to time. I didn't know what to say, and Diane simply enjoyed my giddiness. For me, it was a wonderful dream-come-true, better than anything I had ever imagined, and I had imagined quite a bit.
As we turned the corner into the Quad, I became a little more sober. I was aware of the scrutiny we would undergo from the eyes of many cadets. "PDA" I heard Diane whisper in my ear.
"PDA?" I looked at her as my hand stiffened a little to arrest the swinging of our clasped hands.
"Public display of affection," she giggled. "It's against the rules, for you." She held my hand loosely, but she didn't let go, leaving the decision to me. She seemed to enjoy the forbidden.
In defiance of such a rule, I clasped her hand a little firmer, but I didn't swing it as we continued our original pace. The sky was almost dark, but the Quad was well lit. As we entered the main thoroughfare, I felt a surge of daring and gave Diane a delayed response. "PDA … you mean like this …" I swung around and embraced Diane while planting a kiss on her lips. My right hand remained clasped in hers; my left hand enjoyed a light caress of the curve above her hip.
"Hmm, yes," Diane answered with a look of delighted surprise as we broke the kiss. "I believe that is definitely PDA."
There wasn't much activity on the Quad, but we were immediately approached by an upperclassman. "Fish," he called out to me.
I came to attention, whipped out my hand from Diane's clasp into the expected position to greet an upperclassman, and declared according to proper fish etiquette, "Howdy, Fish Smith is my name, Sir."
"Drop it," the upperclassman ordered as he glanced at Diane and then turned back to me. "Do you know you're not supposed to engage in a public display of affection with your girl while in uniform or on the Quad?"
"Uh, no Sir," I lied partially. I didn't know the rule, exactly, or it's specific guidelines. "What's considered a 'public display of affection?'"
"Kissing certainly is," he shot back. "I recommend no touching whatsoever."
"Yes Sir," I responded.
"Now, take off," he ordered.
As I turned toward Diane, I thought the upperclassman was rude for not having addressed her at all. He should at least have apologized to her for the intrusion. But Diane was smiling so broadly, it was obvious she enjoyed the banter. "Don't worry," she grinned. "You'll be an upperclassman soon enough. Besides, he probably never gets any." She laughed lightly, and I couldn't help but grin as well.
The Quad had twelve four-story dormitories and a cafeteria dedicated to the corps. The band dormitory was next to the practice building at the far end of the Quad from the main campus. As we walked the length of the Quad, our previously clasped hands kept bumping one another and rubbing against each other. Even this simple touch was tantalizing, perhaps partly because it was forbidden.
It was Friday evening, and almost everyone was out and about somewhere, but there were a few guys talking in the hallway that noticed me take Diane into my room. I didn't know where my roommate was, but the room was empty and I figured he was out for a while.
Diane started to undress me and I wondered if we might do more than change my clothes as I felt the familiar stirring within my groin. "Hold on a moment," I suggested. I went to my closet and retrieved my uniform tie. I opened the door, and proceeded to tie a "fish knot" and pull it tight around the doorknob.
"What's that for?" Diane enquired.
"This will ensure our privacy," I answered.
I shut the door, with the tie proudly hanging from the knob in the hallway, and returned to Diane for my undressing. As she unbuttoned my buttons, I started to unbutton hers as well.