Message-ID: <21127asstr$942477000@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Message-ID: <19991024064305.12303.rocketmail@web1805.mail.yahoo.com> X-Post-Date: Sat, 23 Oct 1999 23:43:05 -0700 (PDT) From: Screwtape Jones Reply-To: kryptonitecross@nospam.yahoo.com Subject: {ASSM} [Screwtape] Story: Minor Sexual Sins (MC, MF FF) MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii X-To: story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us JMDigest-Score: good -17 Date: Sat, 13 Nov 1999 02:10:00 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: assm-admin Minor Sexual Sins By Screwtape (kryptonitecross@yahoo.com) Hello. This story is MC, with Mf and FF. I hope you like it. I wrote it over a period of weeks in a boring general education class. No, I don't see any conflict in being a religion major and writing erotica, thanks for asking. Feel free to comment, just take the "nospam" out of the address. If you're under the age of consent, don't read this. Do take a religion class. It's worth it. No, this story isn't about you. If you think it is realistic enought that it might be, you are paying the author a great compliment which she greatfully accepts. I. Melissa Banks was never quite sure why she'd taken the class in the first place, not that she thought about it much. It's not like it was unheard of for a math major to take an upper level Theology course offered only to seniors, but it was unusual. She should be taking upper level math classes, or, failing that, classes that were at least simple enough that she could spend most of her time focused on grad school applications. Yet somehow she'd taken this instead. Maybe it was the little religious crisis she'd had just before sign up, or maybe it was the fact that this class was something different. Who knew? But "The Theology and Philosophy of John Bustopher" had interested her. There was something about the idea of taking a class on an obscure and radical philosopher who had only just died recently intrigued her. The fact that the class was taught by Professor Dagenfield wasn't a deterrent either. Brilliant and icily beautiful, Clarissa Dagenfield ruled her classes like an empress. Melissa had been terrified to creep into Professor Dagenfield's office and ask if she could take the class. Upon entering Professor Dagenfield's office, Melissa had found herself intimidated by this woman's beauty almost as much as her intelligence. To short, busty, Melissa, Professor Dagenfield seemed like a giant at a junoesque 5'10" The fact that Professor Dagenfield's black hair was piled on top of her head only emphasized her perfect cheekbones. Clarissa Dagenfield had focused her cold blue eyes on Melissa for a moment before she spoke. "Melissa Banks. You've never taken one of my classes before and this is an exceedingly difficult topic, but I've heard nice things about you from my colleagues in the math department." "Thank you," Melissa had said. Professor Dagenfield's voice softened just a shade. "Welcome aboard." It had been, in some odd way, one of the more gratifying moments in Melissa's life. Melissa had been very pleased at first, but as she stood in the doorway on the first day, looking at the two other students brave enough to take the class, her courage had faltered just a bit. Melissa was even more disappointed to see that Margaret Parkes was in the class. Margaret, a beautiful, but serious theology major who had been all over the world and was Melissa's chief competition for senior Graduation speaker. But Margaret wasn't thinking about that now. She was nervously paging through her copy of Bustopher's book, "Systems of Philosophy." The only other student in the class was a guy named Josh Dean that had been in Melissa's freshman comp class. Melissa remembered that Josh had been cute then, but now he was slightly overweight with shaggy brown hair and a beard. At least the men in this class wouldn't distract her. Melissa walked in and sat down and almost immediately knocked a book off of her desk. It hit the floor with a thud. Margaret and Josh looked up at her and smiled. "I'm pretty nervous," Melissa stammered. "As well you should be." Josh replied. Margaret let out a giggle. "Dagenfield's really smart, but her classes are such a bitch!" "I've read some Bustopher before. He's not the easiest philosopher to understand." "Really?" Melissa said, her voice almost a whimper. "Difficult, yes, but never boring" Snapped a voice from the doorway. The three of them turned to face Clarissa Dagenfield. "He had a pretty crazy personal life, as I remember" Josh supplied cheerfully. "Oh yes," Professor Dagenfield said. "For one thing, he had about every female grad student in his department, and most of the lady professors. Those who knew him said that his power over other people, especially women, seemed almost magical." "He must have been very charismatic to seduce all those women." Margaret put in. "You wouldn't expect that sort of thing from a man who studied religion, would you?" Melissa asked. "Au contraire, my mathematician friend!" Josh said. "There have been many theologians who were quite promiscuous." "Witness St. Augustine" Margaret put in. "Oh." "Be fruitful and multiply is a fairly powerful scriptural passage." Professor Dagenfield said. They opened their books. Far away, someone smiled. II. The night before her Wednesday Bustopher class, Melissa was hard at work trying to grasp what Bustopher had written. But it was all so difficult. Especially since, for some reason or another, she was terrifically horny. It made it hard to pay attention. She stood and took off the boxer shorts she wore to sleep in. It was time to get some relief. Melissa sat back down, holding the book in one hand with the other between her legs. That was better. For a few more minutes, she was able to concentrate, but soon she found her mind wandering again. Idly, Melissa flipped the book over. John Bustopher's picture stared out at her. He wasn't a bad looking man. Not at all. Melissa's eyes fluttered shut. Wouldn't it have been great to be one of his grad students? Stopping by his office to report on her research, and somehow finding his hand on her knee. Of course, he done his most famous work in the fifties, so she would be wearing stockings. Yes. Stockings were so great. Maybe she should start wearing stockings now. Then Bustopher would lean in close, as if to emphasize an important point and somehow his lips would end up on hers and his tongue would end up in her mouth. It would feel so good. His hands would open her blouse fingers gently toying with each button. He lowered his lips to her neck, then took a nipple in his teeth and gently pulled. "Oh…" She cried, slowly lowering the zipper on her skirt… Melissa woke up the next morning completely naked. Odd. She didn't usually sleep naked. Oh well. She quickly dressed, grabbing her book from off of the bedside table. She was halfway to class before she realized she'd forgotten her bra. Oh well... III. By Friday's class, Melissa was ready. She'd studied for an hour the night before, not counting the masturbation session that had put her to sleep. She'd had some wonderful dream about giving oral sex to one of her professors, she couldn't remember which one, and was it his wife? Whatever… And she was wearing her new garter belt. Maybe, if Professor Dagenfield told any more racy stories about Bustopher, she would flash Josh. Funny how she hadn't realized before how cute he was. She found something about the way he eyed Professor Dagenfield's long slender legs endearing. Melissa envied Professor Dagenfield's legs, especially since Professor Dagenfield wore mini skirts all the time this semester. Come to think of it, so did Margaret. They must really be in fashion. Professor Dagenfield didn't tell any racy stories about Bustopher that day. But Melissa flashed Josh anyway. That was fine. After all, Margaret did it too. Far away, someone giggled. IV. Melissa had tried to study, but it just hadn't worked. Her study sessions were getting shorter, yet somehow, she always felt like she understood her Bustopher better the morning after she'd gone to sleep with her hand on her pussy. Of course, that was every night these days. Her fantasies had been getting stranger and stranger of late, not that she really minded. Tonight, she imagined two muscular men wearing half masks marched her down the nave of church. She was naked under her long white robe. She knelt at the altar in front of a man in a long black robe and a mask. Something about his strong, powerful presence made Melissa's pussy itch. He pointed at the altar next to him and Melissa felt the rising warmth in her pussy as the two men lifted her roughly and placed her on the altar. They tore off her robe and she lay there for a moment, lustfully savoring her nudity in front of the men. The high priest threw his own robe onto the ground. His body looked old, but well muscled. And his cock was the biggest she'd ever seen. It almost hurt as he shoved it into her. Almost. She let out a scream of animalistic yearning. The environment could have been a cheap motel, the backseat of a Ford or anywhere. She suddenly didn't care as she felt that big cock in her pussy. All she cared about was that she was getting it hard and deep. She certainly was. Thank god for that. She lolled her head to one side and looked out into the church. She was a bit surprised to see that there was a congregation. Naked men, who were standing and forming a line. They were waiting for her. They would take turns. She threw her head back, letting out a wanton moan as she came again. She reached forward, grasping at anything. Her fingers clutched the only thing she could reach. When she tugged at the Priest's mask, it came off. That was funny. He looked a lot like… The vision faded. The next morning, Melissa awoke to discover that she fully understood Bustopher's thesis that there was a big difference between minor sexual sins and the deep-seated estrangement from God that made real sin. Little sexual sins were no big deal at all. The odd thing was, she didn't remember reading that section at all. She also didn't remember having slept naked that night, with her legs spread open as if to accommodate an imaginary cock. V. It was Friday night. Normally, Melissa would have been in her room, waiting for a call from Tom, her boyfriend at home. But Josh, from her Bustopher class, was throwing a party at his apartment. She was sick of the dorms, and she was sick of Tom. So she'd decided to go. Melissa had dressed unusually nicely in a black miniskirt and a soft white blouse. And, of course, the thigh highs that she wore all the time now. "Hey, Melissa, you look hot!" Josh said when she walked in the door. She'd felt a little rush of pleasure. Josh was so sexy. "You don't look so bad yourself!" She'd said, sliding her had around his waist to grab his butt. She and Josh and Margaret had gotten to where they touched each other all the time. Grabbing Josh's butt at a party was a logical extension of that. "Here, have one of these. I've got to go check on the punch, but I'll catch up with you later, ok?" "Sure" Melissa said, accepting a glass of something purple. She drank it fast, then watched Josh's butt as he walked away. He was so hot. All the guys at the party were hot. But Josh was the best one of all. Margaret was pretty smashed. She looked like she'd been at the party for quite awhile. When she caught sight of Melissa, she walked right up to her and kissed her on the lips. As if by instinct, Melissa opened her mouth slightly to allow Margaret's tongue to slip in. Melissa had never been kissed by another girl before, but it sure felt good. The two co-eds melted into each other's arms until they realized that the other guests at the party were whooping and cheering. Margaret pulled away. "Been studying much Bustopher?" Melissa moaned softly. "Lucky I'm already in seminary," Margaret said, "It's all I ever study anymore…" "Me too. You're not worried about the test, are you?" "Nope. I think I've been picking it up pretty quickly." "It's so complicated, but I'm totally getting it. I don't understand, but I'm certainly not complaining." Margaret gave Melissa's breast an affectionate squeeze. "I should go. There's a grad student over there and I'd like to hook up with him. I think I'm starting to be attracted to older wome..I mean, older men." Melissa leaned up to kiss her goodbye. After Margaret went off to chase her grad student, Melissa realized that anyone else in the room except for Josh would have thought it a bit strange that they'd discussed theology class at a party, after making out with each other. But for the three of them, theology and lust were quite strongly linked. She wondered why that was… The sight of Margaret on the dance floor distracted Melissa. The grad student's hand was all the way up Margaret's skirt. Melissa sighed enviously. Margaret was so sexy. Of course she got the one older man at the party. She felt a hand on her behind and turned to find Josh standing behind her. She greeted him with an open mouth kiss. It was so great that everyone from Bustopher class was so bonded. "You having fun?" He finally managed. "Yeah. This party is wilder than the ones I'm used to, but I'm having a blast." "That's great. I'm glad you came." He raised his glass. "To John Bustopher." They clinked glasses. "Bustopher would have been so proud of us, out drinking and carousing." Melissa said with a giggle. "He'd be prouder of us if we went to bed together." There was silence between them as his words sunk in. He opened his mouth, as if to apologize, but before he could, Melissa leaned forward and put her lips on his. He grabbed her ass and pulled her toward him, mashing her miniskirt against the lump in his jeans. Melissa let out an involuntary moan. She wanted Josh so much that she could feel her desire as a throbbing need deep in her cunt. She forced her tongue down his throat as he reached under her miniskirt to play with her clitty. Something about what she was doing seemed wrong. "Josh," "Yeah?" He replied as he shoved a finger deep into her pussy. "Unnnnghhhh… Oh… Let's, please, oh, go to your room…" "Oh, okay." When Josh took his finger out of her cunt, Melissa was momentarily sorry she'd said anything, but people were starting to stare. She winked as them. Taking off her clothes in Josh's room was the most comfortable thing Melissa had done all night. She didn't even bother took look at the room until her bikini panties had joined her platform shoes on the floor. Josh's room was pretty standard. The girls in his bikini posters were pretty hot, but what really caught Melissa's attention were the leather straps attached at each corner of his bed. "Those aren't mine." Josh said bashfully. "They belonged to the guy who lived here last year." "I think having straps there is a wonderful idea." Melissa said. After all, sometimes you needed something like that to keep ambitious female grad students in their proper place, prone on the floor. Where had that come from? But it was so hard to concentrate with Josh tying her spread-eagled on the bed… They were being watched lustfully from far away. VI. Melissa made sure she was early for Bustopher class on Monday, but she wasn't early enough. Margaret was already bent over a desk being plowed by Josh's beautiful prick. Oh well. She would get a turn. Melissa knew from personal experience that Josh had the stamina of a horse. In preparation, Melissa slid her dress over her head. Luckily, she hadn't been wearing underwear, so it didn't take her long to put her mouth on Margaret's and get Margaret's hand up her pussy. Their nipples both got hard as they rubbed their breasts together. Melissa fucked herself as hard as she could on Margaret's hand. There was a loud sigh, and all three of them whipped around. Clarissa Dagenfield was leaning in the doorway with her hand as far up her skirt as it would go. Melissa pulled away from Margaret and walked up to Professor Dagenfield, wearing only thigh highs and platform shoes. "Oh, Melissa, please…" Professor Dagenfield whined, lifting up her skirt to reveal her dripping pussy. Melissa groaned and fell to her knees. Professor Dagenfield would return the favor more than once. VII. Epilogue Thirty years later, Professor Melissa Banks-Dean sat in her office trying prepare to teach a class. Somehow, she was finding the picture of her husband Josh on her desk unusually distracting. Perhaps because her inner thighs got damp when she even thought of the night before. He husband was such a sweet man. Josh would be excited to hear about her Bustopher class and she was looking forward to hearing about his. There were jokes made in the academic community about how often Bustopher scholars ended up marrying one another. Bustopher scholars were, on the whole, a strange lot. Margaret had even ended up one. After her relationship with Professor Dagenfield had come out, so to speak, no seminary had wanted her. Not that Margaret had minded much. Educating sexy young undergrads was such a noble profession, after all. Melissa turned back to "Systems of Philosophy." Her hand slid under her skirt. With practice, she'd gotten to the point where her orgasms weren't so powerful that they knocked her out anymore. But she still couldn't read Bustopher without a hand toying with her clit. As well it should be. Melissa looked up at the clock and drew he tongue across her lips. Josh's class would be over by now. She wondered how it had gone. She knew she'd hear all about it that night. And maybe if she had some good stories in return, Josh would take her on the pool table… Far, far, away, someone laughed long and hard until the puppet strings were heavy in his transparent hands. ===== __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Bid and sell for free at http://auctions.yahoo.com -- If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments are their only payment. 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