The activities in the following story of Diane, Rick, or maybe Ralph, and Nick told here do not always happen at universities in the State of Florida. At times, during spring break, it can be much worse.
Once, in what was undoubtedly the largest Western Civilizations class in the largest auditorium at the University of Florida, a second cousin of mine from Tampa asked me to save her a seat in the back where I sat, because she would be late. When the lights dimmed for the graduate assistant to show his slides of the monuments in Paris, to show her gratitude she gave me one of the best blowjobs I ever had. She is, and has always been, my favorite cousin.
* * * WS - Atlanta - 2001 * * *
This story is mostly true, and if you are one of those people who are of the opinion that sex belongs only in the marriage bed with the lights out, read no further, but if you are an advocate of blowjobs in class, please continue.
When I was attending graduate school in education at the University of Florida several years ago, I took for my elective a 500 level course in movie and theater productions. It was something I could use in the future, and I thought it might be enjoyable as a break from boring classes on teaching.
The professor split the class up into small groups, each with a production project of doing a ten minute scene from any movie of the group's choice. We were to embellish or improve the scene, according to our desires. My group consisted of Diane, an English major, and Nick, a drama student.
Diane was an attractive, bright young woman with long auburn hair and wide eyes set off behind thick, dark rimmed glasses. She was a studious sort of person, and seemed naive at first. She was of medium height with a good figure she hid in a plaid skirt and jacket. I had the impression she was more than she seemed, as if there was a certain sensuality also hidden behind her plain clothing.
Nick was about twenty-five, with curly dark hair, and features which were almost too good looking. He aspired to be an actor or director, and he gave the impression of a person who takes every detail seriously.
We met over coffee in the student union after class to decide on our project. Diane and I agreed to let Nick select the scene, because he seemed to have an inexhaustible knowledge of films. We talked for over an hour, and agreed to meet that weekend at Nick's apartment to begin our project.
I showed up at the appointed hour and met Diane walking through the parking lot carrying a camcorder and a tripod. I assisted her with it to the door, and we rang the buzzer.
Nick answered, holding a beer and video tape in his hands. Looking about the apartment I saw a large film library, along with a twenty-seven inch television which took up most of one corner of the living room. The walls were covered with movie posters, and the furniture was sparse and simple.
We sat at the kitchen table and Nick told us of his choice for a movie project. It was a series of scenes from an old French film by Larres Duer, the story of a female cat burglar who entered the homes of the wealthy and stole valuable jewelry. It had been a popular film in Europe during the fifties, and was now a cult classic which brought howls of laughter from modern audiences for the love scenes where the heroine/burglar, Lisle, tied up sleeping men and sexually assaulted them.
The scene he wished us to perform was one where Lisle enters the home of a government minister, and finds his soldier son the only one at home. Lisle accosts him in his bed and ties him up, then falls in love with the handsome man as she amuses herself with him in his bed. Nick had the scene on tape, and played it for us.
As the tube came to life, we saw her enter the room where Andre is sleeping in his old childhood bedroom, home on leave from the army. She places her bag of stolen property on the floor, and stands over the bed, silently staring at the young man. Her nondescript dark clothing and mask obliterate her features, and she quietly moves to the edge of the bed and pulls a small, automatic pistol from her pocket.
I noticed that Diane was rapt with attention, and Nick was idly drinking from his beer as the scene played out.
The woman wakes the sleeping soldier, and points the gun at his head as she removes a cord from her pocket and ties one ankle to the bedpost.
As she does this, he tries to grab the gun, which she discharges into the bed to stop him. She then makes him tie the other ankle to the bedpost on the opposite corner, leaving him in an awkward position. Going to the head of the bed, she ties each wrist, and then steps back to observe him. The ensuing conversation was in French, which I did not understand.
When Lisle pulls off her mask to reveal her exquisite features and long auburn hair, she takes a knife from her pocket and proceeds to cut away his nightclothes. His body is obscured by the sheets, but her intent is evident as she begins to undress. Before Nick stopped the film, our last view was of Lisle entering under the sheets from the foot of the bed, and her head moving to the middle of Andre's body.
We all agreed on the scene, and Nick volunteered to direct us if we would act the parts. He said we could start that very day in his apartment.
Diane's first question was, of course, about the disrobing. Nick told her it was an integral part of the scene, but if she wished, she could just strip to her bra and panties, although it would not be as realistic. Diane finally agreed, but not without some reluctance.
I had questions too, but since I would be under the covers I decided I could just leave my cutoff jeans on, and take off only my shoes, socks, and tee shirt.
We went into Nick's bedroom and saw that his brass bed was made up like the one in the movie, and he had indirect lighting set up in the corners of the room. Diane and I drank beer as Nick worked to set up the camera and test it and the lighting.
Nick's fooling around with the equipment took almost an hour, and by the time he was finished we had consumed two six-packs. I had a little buzz, and Diane was a little giddy. I don't think Nick approved of our silly babbling about the project, and he was tensely stalking about the room adjusting things.
He went through all the aspects of the scene with us, and he gave Diane a costume like the one worn by Lisle in the film. While she went into the bathroom to change, he instructed me to take off my shirt and shoes and get into the bed.
I laid down and pulled the sheet over me as Nick set up the camera where it approximated the position of the original black and white movie equipment. When Diane came out of the bathroom I wanted to laugh at her attire. She was wearing a dark, woolen, man's suit with a black watch cap and a Lone Ranger mask. Her hair was pulled up under the cap, and she told us she felt like a silent film comedienne. She stood at the spot Nick indicated, with the satchel in her hand for what Nick referred to as a first run-down.
As he looked through the camera, he told me that my jeans were bunched up under the sheet and could be seen through the camera. He instructed me to take them off, and threw me a long nightshirt hanging from the wall.
I pulled off the jeans under the sheet and put on the nightshirt while they watched. Nick was impatient, and Diane broke into a giggle as she watched me dress. He stared at her as if she had broken wind in a restaurant.
When I was ready, Nick turned on the camera, and told Diane to begin. I watched her through squinted eyes, feigning sleep, as she approached the bed and took the cord from her pocket. Silently, she approached the bed, and I felt her cool fingers on my foot as she tied my ankle to the post.
True to the story, when she began to tie the other ankle, I reached for the small cap gun in her hand, and she pointed at the pillow and pulled the trigger. The snap of the cap was loud in the room, and the smell of the powder scented the air.
She motioned for me to tie the other ankle as she pointed the gun at me, grinning with her back to the camera. While I tied it, Nick pointed the camera at my hands.
Diane then moved to the head of the bed and tied each of my hands to a bedpost. The knots were loose, and I knew I could get them unfastened if I wanted. I then leaned back on the pillows and tried to look like a young man awakened by a beautiful criminal, rather than a half-drunk college student.
Nick fumed when he turned the camera to Diane for the shot of her undressing, because she was drinking from the Coors Light bottle she held in the same hand as the cap gun. He shut off the camera while she set down the bottle, and testily told her the tape could be edited. I wondered how this project would progress if he continued to be so disagreeable.
When the camera turned back to Diane, she had a serious look on her face as she put down the cap gun and took off her hat. Her long hair fell around her shoulders, and she shook it out with a few quick motions of her head.
Then she removed the mask, and began to unbutton the white cotton shirt she wore under the jacket. Her fingers slowly undid each fastener until the shirt was open in the front. She pulled it out of the trousers and I could see her white bra and a hint of cleavage when she dropped the tail of the shirt.
Diane looked at me with a straight, serious face as she unfastened the belt and unbuttoned the old fashioned pants and let them fall around her ankles. Her legs were tanned and well muscled, and under the tails of the coat and shirt I could see her sheer, white bikini panties covering the dark patch of hair in the vee of her thighs. Her belly was flat and tight, and I could feel a stirring in my loins as I watched her.
