Somewhere in the hills, there is a nondescript house, I am sure you have seen many times. You just never thought anything about it.
It is a large house. But it is an unspectacular house on the outside.
White.
Brick.
Two stories.
A well-kept lawn.
Boring.
That is on the outside.
It is on the inside where the wonders begin.
Because, you see, this house has a name.
It is called The Learning House for Girls.
OK, the name is not exciting.
But it is what is taught inside.
It does not teach reading, writing, arithmetic, or other subjects.
It teaches the art of making love.
This is a very exclusive school. And only the most exclusive girls may attend.
They do not apply. Nobody knows about this school until they are accepted.
And, exactly how the teachers at this school choose the school is a secret they have kept for the hundreds of years the school has existed.
At one time, only 32 girls were allowed to attend the school.
They live in the school until their lessons are completed. This takes four years.
Only girls of a legal age are allowed to attend.
Only girls of a particular persona are allowed to attend.
Only girls of a particular sexual persona are allowed to attend.
But girls from all over the world have attended The Learning House for Girls.
Do I need to remind you that the name is not exciting? But the school is.
The classes are taught in the sub-basement, floors out of view.
When you saw this house, you did not know it had several basement levels. It does.
One must keep such a school away from prying eyes, right?
Yes, we are right.
And so, the classes are kept from the eyes of strangers and others unaware of The Learning House for Girls.
It is a boring name.
But the school is not.
During each school year, there are four grades. Yes, much like a regular school. But this is The Learning House for Girls.
I do wish I did not have to keep typing that boring name. But I will continue to do so until I no longer need to type that boring name.
Anyway, there are four grades. Each grade contains eight girls. Once the girls from the highest grade graduate, eight more new girls are introduced to the school.
Grade four contains one of those classes one hears about in legend. Why do we hear so much about it? We begin to doubt it exists simply because of how often we hear about it.
I assure you, this class does exist.
It is called, simply, Ms. Cindy's School for Anilingus.
If you do not know what anilingus is, you will soon find out.
Nobody knows how long Ms. Cindy has taught the class. But everyone knows who she is. Why, girls on their first day at The Learning House for Girls know who Ms. Cindy is.
Ms. Cindy is a remarkable woman. She has an air about her that lets you know she is important. But she also talks with a person, not at a person.
She is graceful.
She is intelligent.
She possesses a noble air about her.
She is easy to talk to.
Everyone who meets her agrees that she is one of the most beautiful sights they have ever seen.
No, she is not just one of the most beautiful women they have ever seen.
She is one of the most beautiful sights they have ever seen.
I could try to describe her, but it would do her no justice.
So, I will leave it at that; she is one of the most beautiful women you have ever seen.
On this particular day, Ms. Cindy stands in front of her class of eight girls, grade four, on their first day of class at Ms. Cindy's School for Anilingus at The Learning House for Girls.
"By now," she says in a crips voice anyone can understand, as she stands straight in front of the classroom chin held high, hands behind her back. "You have all become quite familiar with each other. You have become quite intimate with each other. Some of you may have even performed anilingus on another. But today and for the following weeks, I will teach you the proper techniques of anilingus.
Yes, there were stifled giggles in the room. Everyone there knew what anilingus was.
They had been prepared for this class.
Still, the giggles persisted.
Ms. Cindy allowed them. She knew the giggles would happen naturally, like other preconceived perceptions about anilingus.
But she had a duty.
And, she had patience.
The first week was a classroom setting, where Ms. Cindy instructed.
She instructed the technique.
She instructed on cleanliness.
She instructed alternate techniques.
She instructed on hygiene.
She instructed boundaries.
She instructed respect.
She instructed pleasure, to please, and to be pleased.
She used the whiteboard, tablets, and instructional videos.
She offered students the opportunity to leave the class, should they wish.
None ever did, though she did keep her eye on some. Many times, when the day came, true colors would reveal themselves, and some would leave.
She had her instincts on who would leave and who would not.
Finally came the day.
That lesson was not taught in a classroom.
Instead, it was taught in a huge bedroom, with several beds.
Four beds, to be exact.
One in every two girls. I think you know that.
Ms. Cindy let the girls pick their partners. The pairings were very predictable.
There were June and May.
There were Amber and Ishra.
There were Clarice and Rosa.
