Alright, let me start off by saying, if you know my writing, you know I'm not a stroke writer. It takes a minute until you get to any sex in this story. So, if you want a stroke story, I suggest going elsewhere. Cum back when you want a little plot. (Did you get that? "Cum". Smiles) Anyway, hope you like the story, please comment either way! I live for your comments! AND VOTE!! For every vote, a penguin gets a tux. (Not really. They're born with those. That's why they're so cool. They're the James Bond of the animal kingdom. Respect it.)
Shaide
===Alice===
God it was hot. I was sitting in a shirt that barely qualified as a wash cloth, a pair of shorts that that barely covered my pussy, sans panties, and my bra was on the floor back in Adrian's room. If my parents had any idea about I how I was dressed right now, they would throw three kinds of fits. I never dressed like this, but it wasn't really my fault. We were three days away from summer break and the college was getting ready to shut down for the two weeks when there weren't any students, so we lost A/C as soon as finals hit. This wasn't even my class, but it was a quick intro into Criminal Psychology with Dr. Campeau.
I was sitting in the class with four other students who weren't here for the final. We were here because Dr. Campeau was a genius. He was one of the stars of the college, criminal psychologist extraordinaire, and mastermind of the human mind. He's helped catch some of the most dangerous criminals, interviewed the most twisted minds, and is absolutely insane.
He was wearing a cape. Again. And I feared for my life that someone else would say something about it. I, unfortunately, had already made that mistake a month ago when I started attending this class. I looked to my left.
This was the first time John had ever sat in on the class. The rest of us had long ago understood that since Dr. Campeau hand-picked the students that took his year and half long course, you definitely wanted him to be able to put a face to a name when he was going through the applications.
"Um... sir... Why are you wearing a cape?"
The entire class groaned in unison. Then we sighed in unison. Then we resigned ourselves to our fate. I felt sorry for the current students. They had sat through this rant countless times. This was only my fourth time.
"Because!" He grabbed the cape and started fluttering it around. "My cape is magnificent! It strikes fear into the heart of my enemies! My enemies!" Dr. Campeau looked to the side, and then ran to the window and threw it opened. "Dr. Richardssssss!"
The class looked sideways at John; this was so embarrassing. Suddenly, as always, a window slid open in the building across from us, "Dr. Campeau!"
Dr. Richards was the star of the mathematics department. Why the hell didn't they just move these departments?
"You glorified calculator!" They were screaming between buildings. They did this every day, to the mortification of their students and departments. The college had no way of stopping them.
"I had coitus with your mother last night!"
"She's dead!"
"She still swallowed!"
Dr. Campeau shook his fist and shut the window. "He wins this round," he muttered. Thank God! This could literally go on for at least 10 to 15 minutes with them tossing insults back and forth between buildings. It was the only thing I dreaded about taking this class.
"Anyway, why do I wear a cape? Why not? Because it's not the social norm, because it's unusual? What is usual? What is normal? Is normal even normal? Is it the same for each person? Does normal exist for an individual or just socially? This is just one question I expect you to answer. Why do I yell out of the window? Why is Dr. Richard my arch nemesis? Glorified calculator that he is. Why do I even have an arch nemesis? Why am I asking you questions when I'm the teacher? And you aren't even my student yet?"
"Because you already have an assignment for us," I said below my breath.
Parker Reynolds heard me and groaned. Apparently I wasn't as quiet as I wanted to be, Dr. Campeau heard me too. He beamed at me, "Yes Mrs. Henderson. I have an assignment for you."
Damn it. It was a class long project. He wanted us to analyze the mental state of a family member, covertly, and do a full psychological evaluation of them. We weren't allowed to do parents or grandparents or anyone more than 10 years older than us. That was fine though, I had two brothers I could analyze. Except, one of them was totally off limits for this. Dr. Campeau was a genius. I didn't want him to see my reports and somehow put together that my older brother was screwing me senseless every chance he got. So I was down to one viable subject. And we were not allowed to simply sit them down on a couch and list off the questions. No, we had to treat them as hostile.
I sat on my boyfriend's couch while he showered up as I looked over the assignment. The first report was going to be due on the second day of class. That gave me a whole summer to work on it and get a head start on the rest of the project. I felt sorry for the students who didn't get this thing early. It was going to get really hard to keep up with the reports within the time limits.
The first report was superficial though. Very superficial. It looked like he took it straight out of some teenage girl's magazine.
'Well, this should be easy,' I thought. 'After all, it's my baby brother.'
Birthday... May 12. Favorite color... Purple. Favorite food... Mom's spaghetti, we all loved Mom's spaghetti. Favorite hobby... Video games. He was guy, all guys like video games. Marital status... Single. I think he's single. He might be dating someone now, but that wasn't married. So, single. Parent's marital status... Happily married, I smiled.
Alfred and Alyssa Brunson were high school sweethearts whose love had survived, thrived, and grown for over 30 years, and given birth to three wonderful children; me included.
Adrian came out of the bathroom, still toweling his hair off and looking absolutely delicious. His abs and chest and shoulders rippled under tight, muscle-bound skin. 'Abs are muscles,' I reminded myself.
"Whatcha doin," he asked, looking over my shoulder. Four years older than me, Adrian had already graduated and was the youngest senior manager at an advertising agency. He didn't have homework anymore. Asshole. Not that the star quarterback ever really did homework anyway. He smiled his way out any bad grade he ever had.
"Assignment for next semester." Even though I was working three times as hard as he ever did, he was still sexy as hell. I wanted to rip that stupid towel from around his waist and have my way with him right on the carpet.
Favorite animal... Wolf. At least, Adrian liked wolves. All boys like wolves, right?
He was standing to the side of me. "Is this supposed to be about Bryce?"
"Yeah, but don't tell him," I said. I was trying to focus, but that towel was right there! And I knew what was waiting for me just underneath.
"Why not? He might be flattered."
"Two reasons," I said, finally having enough of being teased by a stupid towel. "Because I'm supposed to be conducting a covert interview. And because I'm about to get royally fucked."
