Collaboration 3

Collaboration

It was a crisp Wednesday morning as Aaron Kent, a young, freshly hired Psychology Instructor, stood at the head of his auditorium classroom, looking over the collection of semi-attentive students gathered for his Developmental Psychology course.

Aaron took a breath, mentally running through the lecture's conclusion before speaking. "Before we end today, we'll just take a quick look at the next subject we'll be covering." He turned to the wide whiteboard behind him, writing in large blocky letters 'Learning and Memory.'

He double checked his spelling before nodding and returning his attention to the class. Some thirty odd pairs of eyes stared back at him. For not the first time that semester, Aaron felt out of his element. The students in his care were all barely a decade his junior, but for someone like him--a man who had spent his entire educational career, from kindergarten to graduate school, in private religious schools--they might as well have been a different species.

His hand rose and adjusted his tie, allowing him the precious spare seconds he needed to collect himself.

"Learning and memory," he began. "Simple subjects on their own. I'm sure any of you could give me an accurate definition. How they relate to one another, however, that's where things get interesting."

Aaron paused, looking around the room, noting those who seemed most engaged with the topic.

"What do we know about how our memories are formed?" He asked the class. "I'd say we're pretty familiar with this concept, right? We remember events through the creation of neural connections between brain cells, neural connections that are strengthened through repetition..."

For a moment, Aaron faltered. His eyes drew up several rows to the far right side of the classroom. There he saw two young students, both girls, their faces inappropriately close to one another. One, a dark-skinned, curly-haired student named Maia Perkins, was cupping the cheek of the other, a freckled redhead whose name he thought was Rosie Doyle. He was just close enough to see the smoky look in her eyes.

And easily close enough to see Maia slip two fingers into the other girl's mouth. The freckled girl's eyes slid closed as she suckled the two digits, her chest rising and falling in obvious excitement.

Aaron stood in shock at the sight of the two young women acting so lasciviously. Had they no respect for an institution of learning? No respect for each other?

But even as he thought this, Maia slowly removed her fingers, with Rosie licking them as they withdrew. Aaron's lips curved into a deep frown. He wouldn't have his classroom disordered like this! He opened his mouth to call out the two naughty girls, but the words failed to come out.

They failed to come out, because he caught sight of the curly-haired Maia carefully slipping her free hand underneath the other's skirt, Rosie's quivering thighs opening just enough to let her caressing fingers in. Letting them find purchase inside the redhead's panties.

With force, he cleared his throat. And when he looked again, readying himself to enact corrective discipline on the lewd young trollops, he again found his voice faltering. Faltering, because he saw the two girls were sitting firm and proper, their eyes on their notebooks, with no impropriety in sight.

Had he imagined it? Regardless of if he did, the image would not leave his mind. Those panties. Pink. Silk. Damp with arousal, sliding aside to expose wet, swollen lips ready to be touched. Kissed. Penetrated.

Oh, my. Isn't that interesting...

A shiver went up Aaron Kent's spine as he felt his manhood rising despite himself. He took a step back, his hand rising to cover his mouth, aghast at the filthy imagery running through his own head.

Aaron felt the tension in the air, only then realizing he had been standing in silence for over a minute. He coughed loudly, his train of thought momentarily lost over what he had seen--what he had imagined? The two girls smirked at one another amid the silence; Maia slowly raising her free hand to lick the fingers.

The sight brought a strange pain to Aaron's temples.

Rubbing the side of his forehead, Aaron felt the lecture return to him enough to continue. "What I'm talking about here is our short-term memory..." His voice stuttered, quavered, before finally returning to its natural rhythm. "...and long-term memories."

The lesson continued for the next several minutes with no more interruptions, though this might have been because Aaron spent the rest of the lecture with his face in his notes or facing the mostly blank whiteboard. When he dismissed class, he was almost grateful to see the two girls already gone when he looked up.

Off to one of the empty classrooms, to give each other the attention they need...

Another shiver ran through Aaron. Was that a voice he heard? He was sure he heard it, but it almost seemed it came from inside his head...

He took a deep breath. Surely it was just the murmuring students filing out. Aaron's hands trembled. His mind almost ached to imagine the two girls together, while knowing he had an utmost duty to ignore it.

It was like he could see them. Slipping into the darkened room, giggling to one another as they shed their clothes. Their bodies moving and writhing as they kissed, Rosie's perky breasts and Maia's plump ones pressing together as they moved. Their tongues dancing as their hips ground together. So easy to picture. So real to imagine...

"Excuse me?"

Aaron gasped, the voice wresting his attention from the fantasy entrancing him. He blinked, finding himself staring at another student, one that could have easily come from the religious schools he had once attended. Her dark hair was up in a bun, and she wore a white sweater jacket over a thick gray blouse, and her skirt came down below her knees. She had a concerned look on her face.

"Yes, aaah," His still distracted mind groped for her name. "Kaley Winters, isn't it? What can I do for you, Ms. Winters?"

She nodded to him. "Mr. Kent, sir. You saw the girls in the corner. The ones... cavorting with one another?"

With one hand, Aaron gripped tightly to the edge of the table. It was as if their very mention threatened to draw him back into the vivid fantasies running through his head. Fantasies, or... whatever they were.

He forced himself to concentrate, and nodded slowly, saying, "Yes, I did, Kaley. It was incredibly inappropriate behavior for the classroom. I can promise if it happens again, I'll put a stop to it immediately."

The reserved young student said nothing at first. She nervously looked behind towards the door, as if to make sure they were alone. Finally, she leaned forward and whispered. "But sir... What about the others?"

Aaron's brow furrowed. "Others?"

Kaley gave another nod. "It wasn't like this last year. Everyone's acting so weird. Even the teachers." She paused, and for a moment seemed to draw into herself. "Especially

that

teacher..."

"Which teacher?" asked Aaron, his curiosity growing than anything. Could the faculty actually be encouraging these deviants?

The girl hesitated, her hand rising to her lips as if she couldn't quite bring herself to speak. Then she stuttered out. "Miss Grace, sir. Cassandra Grace. She... she's been doing weird things in her Behavioral Psychology course. That's where..." her voice grew quiet. "That's where those two girls started acting so inappropriately. I had to... I had to pull out of it."

Aaron Kent felt the nervousness take root in his chest. He had known Boulder was a liberal college town when he took the job, but he'd never dreamed it could spawn faculty who openly encouraged such behaviors!

What had he gotten himself into?

He leveled a stern gaze at her. "Kaley. This is very important. What sorts of things was she having you all do, Kaley?"

Kaley looked at him, her lip trembling slightly. Before she could speak, however, her eyes grew distant--almost glassy, he thought--and then she shook her head. "I'm s-sorry, Mr. Kent. I need to go." And before Aaron could stop her, the young student stepped away from him, rushing toward the door with her long skirt swishing around her knees.

Aaron watched her go, deep sense of confusion settling on him. Out the door, he could see other students walking past, going to other classes. With a shaking hand, he reached up and straightened his tie.

What about the others...

The words echoed in his mind as an uncanny feeling fell over him. The feeling that he had missed something important. Something very important, but that he couldn't for the life of him recall.

Something was wrong.

That strange feeling in Aaron's head grew stronger and stronger in the following days. The two lecherous girls put on no more displays--or at least no more that he could catch--instead only smiling innocently at him whenever he caught their eye.

But often when he would glance their way during a quiz or in the middle of a lecture, he would feel an increasingly familiar ache rising around his temples. An ache that would linger until he turned his attention away again. He tried to catch Kaley after class, to get more information out of her, but since their talk, she was always one of the first people out of his classroom when the period ended.

Those strange headaches grew increasingly common as the days wore on. He would find it coming upon him often as he walked the hallways, when he would look upon pairs of passing students or groups talking in the open lounge at the front of the building.

Worst of all, these headaches often came with other things. Strange flashes of imagery that came when a student--or even another instructor--met his eyes. It was as if his mind were being invaded by these deviant fantasies. Images of the students, of the teachers even, engaging in horridly lewd acts to one another.

One such intrusion fell upon him one day after class as he stood next to the vending machine, whatever snack he had meant to purchase forgotten. His gaze had become locked upon a brown-haired girl and two athletic looking boys talking outside the restrooms.

As the girl knelt down to tie her shoe, the invasive fantasies began. Like a flickering, teasing peepshow, he saw the girl not tying her shoe, but unzipping the two boys' pants and giggling as she drew out their turgid phalluses. He saw one boy take a handful of the girl's hair, forcing her mouth down on his manhood. The girl moaned; the lewd sounds as he copulated with her mouth growing louder and wetter by the second.

She wants it... She needs it...

The images swirled together in Aaron's head--the lustful stares between the trio. The girl had the other boy's shaft in her hand, steadily stroking it as her eyes drifted over to meet Aaron's gaze. He shuddered, but couldn't look away; the sounds of pleasure built and built, rising to a crescendo that erupted in a flash of white, hot, sticky...

"Good afternoon, Mr. Kent," a smooth voice spoke beside him.

Aaron jerked, the coins slipping from his fingers. His temples throbbing, he turned to find himself face to face with his fellow instructor, and the woman he bore deep suspicions over, Cassandra Grace.

A shadow of a smile played on her ruby red lips, her eyes sweeping briefly across the coin-strewn floor. "Are you alright?" she asked gently.

Aaron cleared his throat. "Yes, Ms. Grace. Thank you. A moment's indecision is all."

"Hmmm," she said, standing tall and lithe and lovely before him. Her eyes were like green pools, her elegant face framed by thick raven curls that fell to her shoulders. "I imagine we could all be a bit more decisive." Her head tilted slightly. "Was there something more pressing on your mind, perhaps?"

He shook his head, his tongue feeling strangely thick in his mouth. Did she always look that... that stunning? That commanding? That...

Deserving of worship...

Aaron shuddered. No. It was in his head. She'd always been like that. Always that... perfect.

"Just a distraction," he said, his voice slightly hoarse. "A minor one. I am fine."

"Mmmm," she said, the soft hum from her lips seeming to vibrate his body. "That's good, then." A long, painted fingernail rested on her lips. "Tell me, Mr. Kent. What was it you said when we first met when you first arrived? What led you to become a teacher?"

"I..." He swallowed hard. Why had she asked him this? "I've always wanted to be a guide for young, unformed minds," he finally stuttered out. His hand snaked up to touch his forehead.

"Ahh, yes," she mused. "That makes sense." She stepped beside him, and he almost jumped as her finger stroked down his cheek. Her touch felt strange. Almost electric. "I must admit, I had different desires when I began, but as time has gone on, I believe I've grown to see the appeal. I think you'll do quite well, Mr. Kent."

"Quite w-well at what?" he said, shaking. But when he turned to look at her, she was gone. The students were gone. Looking up at the digital clock on the wall, the next period's classes had already started.

Aaron looked around, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. His heart was racing. The memory of Cassandra Grace clung to his mind, her vanilla-spice perfume lingered in his nostrils. As he made to move away, he let out a small gasp. Looking down, he saw the bulge straining the fabric of his pants, his erection harder than he'd ever remembered it being.

"I'm not sure I understand what you're asking, Mr. Kent," said Ms. Avery, one of the department's associate chairs. He had caught her in the department building's open atrium and study area, but standing there under her incredulous gaze, he felt suddenly out of sorts.

Aaron squeezed the bridge of his nose. He had to sound reasonable. He had to remain calm. More than anything, he had to appear sane.

"What I mean to ask, ma'am," he said slowly, "Is if there have been any reports of behavioral issues. With the teachers, or the staff?"

The scarlet haired woman's eyes seemed almost dreamy. "You mean like bullying? Vandalism? Or something more... deviant?"

Several students walked by towards the exit. Near the atrium's corner entrance, a group of students gathered to study around a long table. They sat with their books open, chatting amongst themselves. One student, a girl with short blonde hair, was sitting atop the table with her legs crossed.

Aaron's eyes watered as he looked at them, that odd ache in his temples rising until he looked away. They had clothes on. He knew they had clothes on. They

had

to. "More deviant, I'm afraid. Inappropriate behavior engaged in by the students." He hesitated, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Out in the open."

"Hmmm," the slender woman rested a finger on her lips. "There have been no complaints. Have you seen any of this behavior yourself, Mr. Kent?"

"Well, no... I mean, yes! Once in my class. Two young women behaving most inappropriately." He snorted nervously and glanced around before adding. "I've felt uncomfortable since then..."

Ms. Avery arched her brow. "Just once?"

"Just once, yes," he said, suddenly feeling very silly.

"I see." The woman sighed lightly. "I understand you come from a more conservative background than most, Mr. Kent. But please remember to be tolerant here at the university; we do allow for certain freedoms of expression."

Freedom to sin

A soft voice in Aaron's head whispered, making his face grow warm.

To be dirty, deviant sinners...

The ache rose in his head, clouding his thoughts.

Don't you want to help them sin, Aaron?

"I... understand," he said, trying to ignore the voice. That sweet voice that seemed to come more and more, taunting him with its vile suggestions.

"Now if you'll excuse me," the associate chair said, nodding past him. He turned to see two students pulling up behind him. "There are others who need my help right now."

"Y-yes," Aaron said, the low silky laughter in his mind making him shudder. As he left, he forced himself not to look back, even when he heard a belt being unbuckled. A zipper being pulled down...

He hurried away from the atrium towards the row of auditorium classrooms. "This is insane," he mumbled to himself. "I'm going insane..." As he walked, his mind drifted to his days studying at university. The daily mass. Kneeling before the altar to pray, Confessing his sins each day to the priest... It had been so easy back then. So simple.

He heard voices in the distance, the sounds low and thick and strange. A soft moan made him stop in his tracks. His mouth set in a firm line.

"Found you," he said to himself, and dashed towards the voices.

Around a corner, and in a small nook shielded from casual view, he found not the sinful acts he was expecting, but merely three girls talking. It was a strange murmur that his scattered mind seemed barely able to process.

Awww, poor boy,

the voice chuckled.

Were you expecting something else? Something you could... join in on?

"No!" he said, louder than he meant to. The girls gave him a curious glance, then went back to their conversation.

His heart pounding, he stormed away, shaking his head in a vain attempt to shed himself of the voice.

You're sooo close, Aaron... You're almost there. Almost riiight there.

He rubbed at his temples as he hurried through the building towards the exit doors. He needed air.

When he stopped, however, he wasn't near the exit, but further into the building. One of the auditorium doors was ajar, sounds of class rising from within.

Do you really want to know, Aaron? Do you really want to see?

Despite his reservation. Despite every cell in his body crying against it, Aaron crept toward the door. He knew which one it was. He knew what he would find. Stepping into the room, moving down the little L-shaped corridor, he could peek around and into the auditorium. It felt warm in the room. Steamy, almost.

There were some twenty students in the small auditorium, all staring raptly at the teacher. Cassandra stood at the head of the class with a young woman sitting cross-legged atop the desk next to her.

Her hips swayed as she moved about the stage. Even from the back of the class, Aaron could see the deep, luscious curves of her figure. Her red blouse and black blazer emphasized her beautiful breasts, breasts barely contained by the fabric holding them. Her pencil skirt clung to her tight ass like paint, highlighting every curve and crease.

"We've discussed before on the reactions we have from one another," she said smoothly, her confident voice carrying throughout the lecture hall, "and how those actions can affect our bodies. Today's lesson will continue in that vein." She smiled pleasantly at them. "Who would like to help demonstrate?"

Several hands went up, and she pointed to one. "You, Bobby. You'll do quite fine."

A young, slightly lanky young man walked down the steps to stand in front of the dark-haired instructor. "Now Bobby. We'll not worry about the reaction

I

provoke in you," she said, her smile widening as her eyes drifted down the young man's body. "I want you to stand in front of my aid Alicia, here."

She directed him to the girl on the desk, her tan skin and blonde hair seeming almost painfully innocent to Aaron's eyes. This only made him gasp more sharply when she, without a word of warning, pulled her t-shirt over her head, exposing her flat stomach and pert, perky breasts.

He heard the students stifle noises of excitement, though for Bobby's part he could only stare, slack-jawed.

"Now, I want you to look upon the feminine form, Bobby," Cassandra said, her voice seeming so strange. So familiar. "Isn't it lovely?" She ran her hand along his jawline. "It brings such joy, don't you agree?"