Professor Winderlys Assignment Ch 04

Part 4: Release and relief

After they returned to the living room with their cups full, Dr. Winderly sat back in the wingback chair. "I was a first-year grad student and thought I wanted to be an archaeologist. I had a class with Dr. Heidler in Anthro 651 and he was fascinating. I went to his office hours one day and he was working on a paper about sexual practices in a tribal setting. I could read the pages even though they were upside down."

"So, I asked him if he was taking any G.A.s and, turns out, he had an opening. I don't know what came over me. Being an over-achiever, I threw myself into it. And over the next year I edited a lot of his work. It was very explicit and I got embarrassed often. When it came time for me to take up a thesis, I naturally followed my professor's line of inquiry.

"You know that I am a practical anthropologist and that I am more interested in learning by doing than in theory. I got that from Alec. So, I learned how to build thatch roofs, to weave dresses. You see the work there (pointing to the photo that had been the focus of their exchange). I stripped the inner bark, kneaded it and wove it in traditional fashion. That photo was taken on our last night in the field. I wore it for the presentation of the virgins. I did it all. I napped flints, dried corn and milled it with a stone, and just about anything that our subject groups did, I learned to do as well."

Going on, she explained the images in her dissertation. "Alec, uh, Dr. Heidler drew those. He was an old-school field guy who wrote with a fountain pen in all his journals and did pen and ink drawings because there were no cameras useful for field work when he was coming on.

"Each time I would complete an assignment he'd have me pose for him to draw. It's not fun being a model. My legs cramped. My body got tired. But he did such great work, so I was committed to helping him succeed."

Jim interrupted. He picked up the book with the image of the man in it. "So this is your advisor?" She nodded and was about to say more, but he went on. "How did you get these pictures?" He realized it a moment later. "You took them. You took pictures of your advisor's boner and kept taking pictures of him as he started dripping pre-cum? Was that for science too?"

"Yes and no." She fumbled for words. "Yes, because it was part of my training to be able to respond calmly to sexual situations. Dr. Heidler had made me, uh, encouraged me to be more specific in my masturbation rituals. And I used to masturbate with these pictures to prompt my fantasy. It is after all a beautiful cock." Jim nodded in agreement and then caught himself.

"Eventually, he had me masturbate in front of him and the other G.A.s as proof that I was completely comfortable with my own sexuality. If I couldn't, how would I be able to engage with our subject culture? They would all be there in the field, so I was going to have to be naked and active in front of him anyway. Being the youngest of the GAs I had to go through the same rituals as the others did. The pictures are a celebration ceremony of my achievement. And I was honored to be able to complete the work with him."

"Don't look at me that way. Nothing happened between us."

"Ha! That's rich. You've got pictures of this guy's big dick and he's dripping like a quart of pre-cum and, wait a second..." He flipped through the thin book. "And here he is actually cumming a bucket load. You've got pictures from all kinds of angles. And these pics must be your naked G.A.s. These three people you just told me you fingered yourself in front of. But nothing happened?" His eyes bored into her.

She remained steadfast. "Yes, absolutely nothing improper. It's true we were all able to be free and open with each other. We created our own masturbatory rituals so we could understand our subjects' customs."

Of course so had Jim in his summer circle jerks with his buddies. He was slow to see the similarity yet.

"And I might add so will we if you stay with it. But we none of us ever had sex with each other. We were professional researchers. And you and I won't have sex either." She said this in a way that attempted to be scolding.

"In the Bill Clinton way, you mean? Did he stuff you with a cigar and lick off your pussy juices in the name of science, but could say you never had sex?"

"Okay, that's vulgar. Don't be juvenile, Dummy. Can't you see what I am saying? Didn't you ever hear of guys in a circle jerk? Or your old man and his buddies watching stag films together. Don't you think those were rituals and bonding ceremonies? You really are a dummy." She had an incredulous look on her face. Would she ever get through to him?

"You continue to confuse nudity and sex. Think about a nude beach, say. You see people there with no clothes on. They talk, play games, eat together and the whole time they are looking at each other completely naked. Yeah, it might be arousing, but they contain their emotions and get on with life. They don't have to "do it" as you think."

He considered that for a moment. "Okay, I get it. But let me ask you something else. How in the heck did he not get fired for this stuff? I mean it wasn't the dark ages when professors could fuck their students and nothing happened."

"Jesus Christ, Dummy, we never fucked!" She was pleading. He was not being polite. This was the true Jim coming out from the aw-shucks, South Dakota cowboy. She was encouraged that he was being direct enough to ask questions.

"Well, yes that was a problem. A new G.A. came into his office one day when he was showing me pictures of himself masturbating outdoors. She was not taking well to the readjustment training or was jealous of the rest of us. Anyway, she went to the provost and all hell broke loose. They interviewed me and were worried I was being taken advantage of. I wasn't. So, I just said it was a personal matter and it died down, sort of.

"Sort of?"

"Yes, the following year, he took a visiting position at Raynor and I had to find another chair for my committee. Luckily I got Dr. Maines. He was an old field researcher too. Alec stayed on as a reader and we got someone else who had researched on sexual customs from another school. But it was complicated."

"Yeah, I guess...Well for the record I am not going to the provost about our research!" He went on hesitantly. "And you got over your embarrassment about being naked and about your sexual thoughts and all? And about performing in front of people?"

"It takes a while. You have to work at it and allow yourself to let go of your own inhibitions. It wasn't the others telling me not to take my clothes off and not to have sexual thoughts and not to masturbate. It was ME telling me that stuff.

"Look, Dummy we all have sex on the mind and we all have some shame. We need to be able to get through that cloud of shame to be able to see clearly what is going on. Are you ever going to loosen up and let go?

Jim looked down. He was fumbling for words now. "Okay, well, here is something..."He was afraid to tell her, that she would...well he didn't know what she'd do. So he plunged in.

"When you said something about circle jerks being like rituals or something? I guess they are."

She stared at him not letting him off the hook. She raised an eyebrow when she thought he had paused too long. It worked.

"Me and my friends would grab some beers an go out on the prairie after working and get sorta crazy. Started out we'd pass around magazines, then we found a way to rig up a 12-volt video player and we'd watch porn. And you can guess what happened next."

"No, I'd rather not. You need to tell me."

"Well we'd all be getting horny and finally one guy whipped out his dick and started whacking it. Then we all got into the act. It was weird at first and we all had to agree we were not queers, but were just working out our frustrations. So we worked them out nearly every Friday and Saturday night."

He recounted the J.O.B club rules and how he looked forward to the "rituals." He made air quotes with his fingers.

She pressed him. "Did you enjoy seeing the other guys jerking off?" He nodded then looked down furtively. "Did you ever touch them as they masturbated?" He did not look up but he nodded again. "Did you ever take one of their cocks in your mouth?" He looked at her with wild fear in his eyes, but did not vocalize the answer he just gave her.

She sought to console him a bit. "It's perfectly okay, Dummy. The point of studying sexuality is to be able to understand it. How could you understand the enjoyment of giving a blow job unless you tried it? So, you could actually call your J.O.B sessions study sessions in human sexual variation."

"So, you do see, don't you? They were sexual rituals of a closed male society. Just like the sexual rituals my professors and I have studied. You only think of sexual rituals in terms of the Sacrifice of the Virgins or as couplings with Temple Prostitutes. What you did was a ritual, a rite that brought you together as one. You had rules, a special language and did not let any one else in. You shared secret meanings and never talked about them. I mean you didn't have sex or fall in love with the guys, right?"

"Oh, Jesus. NO!"

"Of course, it was more about the ritual than the sex, although the sex was a powerful binder. The only way you can know this, however, is to go through the same training that is written and illustrated in those books." Are you going to commit to this study or not? I had to do it. You have to do it. It's required of you, if you want to be my student, Dummy."

He smiled at her, "But I don't know how well I will be able to keep the distance professional."

"Oh yes we will. I can guarantee that Mr. Doumay. Now, if we may continue, please?"

They had crossed a divide. Rather than being simply a student, Jim was a becoming a research colleague.

She said he had to learn the Impressions of Sexual Beauty Scale. There is no good way to measure concepts of sexual attractiveness because they change within and between groups. It was possible to construct a common language for describing body parts that were the object of sexual gratification, however. Later researchers adapted the system it to study fetishes.

The system was not simple, but it was ingenious. Take the scale for men. Since most men's penises look like every other penis, they were not objectively evaluating men's junk, but rather how the sex organs aroused the person viewing them. After a lot of ratings, one could look at the overall scores and determine the rater's turn-ons precisely. He likes this kind of cock.

Jim chuckled. "So, you're saying that I need to learn me some cock-coding, and tit-tabulation. She rolled her eyes and went on.

"Circumcised penises, for example, are evaluated on length flaccid, length turgid, and girth: the fundamentals. There was a score for smoothness vs. veining and one for the glans. Finally, an overall scored for the observer's perception of arousal ability. The scores become a short hand for understanding each other's perceptions.

"Breasts have their own system. Bra sizes are not useful because they do not equate to actual breasts. So, a figure is given for offset curvature. A flat-chested woman would have little to no offset curvature. A more generous breast would have a higher score for how much the breast curved out from her body. The upper end of the scale was the Venus of Willendorf, fat by our standards, but representing the ideal woman to ancient cultures. It was a contribution feminist anthropologists contributed.

Sagging, drooping, stretch marks, and veining are describe but not measured, Such aspects of a woman's breasts show actual life events rather than the airbrushed specimens found in magazines," Winderly explained.

Jim was interested in hearing about the calculations of nipple and areola size. Nipples were scored in millimeters length by diameter rounded up to a whole number. Inverted nipples got -1 or -2. A nipple measure exceeding 10 mm required a photograph in most literature as that is quite beyond the norm. Areolae are measured by an approximation to US coins.

Thus a breast could be described in series of values such as C4S4N53AD indicating breast with moderate curvature sagging four inches with a dime sized areolae and nipples 5 mm long and 3 mm wide. Women with areolae larger than a silver dollar were scored first with SD (for that very large coin). If they were the same circumference as the coin, that was easy.

Dr. Winderly's description of the system was terribly complicated and utterly boring. How could a system designed to measure arousing qualities be such a buzz-kill? She explained that sometimes it required a cold eye to judge beauty. It was not about what was right or wrong, but how it was described to others.

She had a pile of magazines with amateurs and nudists. "No PhotoShop," she explained. They worked through the system for about an hour talking about breasts and cocks like they were judging sheep at the county fair.

She picked up the paperback photo book with Dr. Heidler's cock in it. "How about your evaluation of his penis? I believe you said it was gorgeous. Well tell me how."

He gave the scores with tentatively. She asked for his overall arousal impression score. He scored it 15 out of 15. She agreed it was a very arousing cock to behold. For the first time in the past hour, Jim noticed his own cock was straining again. His pre-cum had soaked his pants through with a three inch wet spot. He deliberately reached in and moved his cock to the left so it would be more comfortable, but nothing would help his blue balls but a good strong cum rush.

Before they left the penis evaluation, he asked why in all the images, the men had shaved off all their public hair. "Do you shave down there, Mr. Doumay?"

"Me?" He choked. "Do you?" She feared he was slipping back into the coyness she was trying so desperately to eradicate. Actually, he felt a sudden rush of shame. He did shave and he loved the way it made his penis and balls look more dramatic. It emphasized their shape and texture. But he was afraid to admit it to her.

"Yes, I do, but only a neat trim. I prefer to have a thick bush in front, but easy viewing and access to my vaginal lips and clitoris." She said it coolly, precisely and without the least shame or embarrassment. She waited for his answer and stared into his blue eyes while he fought a battle inside him. Part of him wanted to show her right there how carefully he had shaved himself. The other part tried to be equally calm and personally removed as she was.

"I do. Completely, but for a patch right above my... penis. I like to keep it trimmed close, but not completely smooth." He felt naughty and proud. He could live with those two emotions better than with fear and shame.

"Oh, I see. Well, I mean, I understand."

Continuing with the lesson, she turned to the last section of the picture book where photos of her and her colleagues and professor were laid out. They were soft porn, nothing more than modeling shots, but they told the story well. She landed on a picture obviously taken in a field camp somewhere.

She was in the bow of a canoe leaning far back, looking skyward. Her arms were straight and her hands grasped the gunwales. She was completely naked and her breasts sagged sideways, freely in the misty air. One knee was drawn up and the other leg extended so that her pussy was hidden. Her stomach was toned and the flat light showed her skin to be soft and smooth. Dr. Winderly took a deep breath recalling the moment the picture was taken. She was so relaxed and comfortable with her nakedness in front of whoever had taken the picture.

Jim was mesmerized by the image. It was at once so sensual, so serene, and peaceful. This is the life he wanted. Naked, exposed, relaxed, and free.

"Well, Mr. Doumay. Can you evaluate these?" Jim looked at her dreamily. She wanted him to evaluate her tits as a researcher, but he was too affected by them to rouse his sex-soaked brain.

"They are beautiful. Thank you." He was grateful that she let him see the pictures. It would be an insult to label them in such a clinical way.

"Well, I am glad you think so. But you have work to do. You must be able to separate yourself from the reaction to beauty to be able to describe it.

"Here is what I would score them: Curvature is 5 even though my shoulders are pulled back lessening the sagging. Sagging would be a 3. My areolae are nickel sized and my nipples are 6mm x 5mm, but you can't make them out that clearly in this photo."

"Here is a better shot." She is standing at the door of a cabin naked above with only sheer skirt. Her pubic hair is only slightly visible through the gauzy material. One hand holds a book; the other is supple over her stomach. She is looking at something in the distance, alertly. Her breasts are full and have no stretch marks. The slight sag gives a thin shadow line beneath her breasts. Their weight causes them to pull apart and point slightly outward in the direction needed to nurse.

Jim takes the book and flips between the two images. He is speechless at her beauty. Why did he never notice before? She knew what she had and how it affected men. She could describe it in cold detail, but she knew. So, she wore foam-cupped bras, heavy shirts and jeans, all designed to hide her beauty. Even her bitchiness was a disguise to keep men at bay. Yet here she had revealed herself to Jim. He was falling in love with her.

She broke the reverie. "Look you can't keep drooling over these pictures. I can see that you are having quite a case of blue balls. You must be getting dehydrated with all that pre-cum you are leaking. Can you please just give me the score?"

He stammered and stuttered his way through. He needed work. She had the next assignment already prepared.

"I'm going to fix another pot of coffee. I want you to stay here and jerk off. I'll throw you a towel. Just promise something, will you?"

Jim was still trying to comprehend her last order. "Jerk off? Here? In front of you?"

She sighed and shook her head. "Yes, Dummy. Jerk off. Masturbate. Wank. It is a completely normal and natural thing to do. If it makes you feel better, I will be in the kitchen so you can have some privacy. But I am ordering you to do this or I swear I will drop you as my student and you can flounder for another four years. Face it pal: when you're trying to complete your dissertation, sometimes you have to blow people. Or in this case jerk off for them. Are we clear?"

"Yes, ma'am. Perfectly clear. Was there more? You said to promise you something?"

"Yeah. Don't get my pages stuck together, okay?"

As Dr. Winderly picked up the cups, Jim reached for the photo book. Their hands collided and their eyes met. Both smiled and continued their tasks.

Jim unbuttoned his pants. Immediately his cock felt relief. He pulled the waistband down some and let his cock breathe. He moved his hips shaking his towering rod. He was proud of his nakedness and liked the look of his shaved manhood. Then he pulled his pants farther down till he could feel the leather seat cushion on his ass.

He pulled on his ball sack and opened his legs slightly. His cock was standing upright and firm. Veins running along his smooth shaft were pulsing with energy. The head of his cock was deep purple from the amount of blood shunted upward. It glistened from both the pre-cum and the polish of its blood-smoothed skin. He looked down, proudly, at his hard cock. He was super aroused and yet happy and relaxed to be sitting in his professor's living room with his naked cock standing up and free.

Something smacked his face. It was a towel. Jim jumped and looked toward the door. He only saw the back of Dr. Winderly as she walked casually down the hall.