sex ed

Ch. 2: My New Life



I was still shaking my head in confusion when I stepped out of the shower twenty minutes later. The house was quiet as I tip toed back to my room, which just left me alone with my thoughts. I closed the door behind me and reached for the lock before forcing myself to pause. What kind of person was I? Did I lock the door or leave my room open to public access? Would locking it violate some rule of the house I was living in? I didn’t know whether Summer had climbed into bed with me or if she had snuck in at some point during the night. Was it public knowledge that we were lovers, or was it some sort of secret? It seemed kind of like a dick move for me to be boning my step sister behind my adopted parents’ backs, but at the same time it might have been the very reason they adopted me in the first place!



My head was beginning to spin from all the questions, so I decided that at least one thing were going to be under my control and flipped the lock closed. I let the towel drop to the floor and sat down on the bed, taking a good look around the room. It looked pretty standard compared to what you saw on the TV. Navy blue carpeting covered the floor, with a standing lamp in one corner and a wall mounted bracket in the opposite corner diagonally across the room. A wooden chest of drawers occupied one wall, its top cluttered with pens, papers, and all sorts of knick knacks. There were several pictures buried in the mess, and I decided to get up and take a better look at them. What I found made me snort in disbelief.



Whoever had taken the pictures must have been the worst photographer ever. There were plenty of pictures of me with various girls, the most recent ones showing me and Summer in the classic couple poses. Most seemed to have been taken either at parties or other special events, and excepting the ones with Summer in them most seemed to be a few years old at least – making them entirely useless for telling who my current friends were. Even worse were the pictures of my parents. Each and every last one had been carefully cropped so that their faces were just out of frame. I knew there was something wrong with this reality, but hiding my parents’ identities just made it that more obvious, by cutting away what would otherwise be concrete proof of my existence.



Or was that the point? The face in the mirror had said, “This world will be as you write it.” It had sounded strange at the time, but I had dismissed it as pandering, a sort of ‘seize your destiny’ kind of line. But what if it was meant as some sort of clue? Summer had mentioned that my parents had died in a car accident months ago, but what actual proof was there of that? As far as I was concerned, none of this even existed the night before! For all I knew, my parents weren’t actually dead , but really secret agents under really deep cover. Or maybe I was actually a clone, and my real parents were a turkey baster and a test tube. Maybe this entire thing was all some sick little experiment!



That…really would have sucked, actually. The super agent hypothesis wasn’t much better, as it meant there was a good chance I would end up getting shot at sooner or later.



My head began to hurt from the confusing stream of questions, but I continued to search the rest of the room anyway. There were a few trophies for baseball and soccer, as well as the chess team, oddly enough. I must not have been very good at them, though, as they were all participation awards rather than actual accomplishments. Some action figures stood on the top of a pair of book cases, ranging from cheap toys to fairly expensive looking professional grade models. I couldn’t help but notice the more pricey ones were usually female, and generally quite undressed. The book cases were the most natural things in the room. A pair of cheap wood board types, their shelves were sagging from all the weight that had been piled on to the,. There was a good number of hard covers, with more paperbacks stacked into two rows, with even more sitting horizontal to fill in the vertical gaps. I ran my finger over their spines as I silently read the titles. Most of them were the type of combat porn I favored, but I also spotted a few more recognizable authors such as Heinlein and Asimov. There were also a few comic trade paperbacks, as well as what looked like a complete set of the manga Berserk. All in all, it looked like what I would have chosen to stock my own shelves with.



My next stop was the closet, which turned out to be surprisingly disappointing. There were a few formal looking suits, some more casual looking slacks, and a few nice polos and button downs. Nothing, in other words, that couldn’t have been ordered straight out of the Old Navy catalog. There was nothing with a brand logo, no concert souvenirs, no t-shirts with snarky slogans scrawled across the chest. It was the closet of an automaton, utterly devoid of personality and taste. I frowned as I considered the implications of that, and turned to look around the rest of the room to see what else was missing.



There were no posters, no banners, or other decorations hanging on the walls. There was no trace of any music or musical devices, no CD tower stacked with discs. There wasn’t even a radio – my alarm clock was an old fashioned wind up model with a pair of bells on the top. There was a TV connected to a battered looking pair of rabbit ear antennas, but no sign of any DVDs or VHS tapes. My room was starting to feel more and more alien with each passing second. It wasn’t mine at all. It looked more like an expensive facsimile, as if someone had gone to great lengths to make something that might have been a bedroom, but was really a set for actors to practice their craft on.



That was when it hit me.



I was living in some sort of elaborate doll house. All this, the room, the people, the world, none of it could be real. I was just a piece in some sick little game being played out for the amusement of a mysterious other, someone with incredible power or pull to set up such a detailed fantasy. A shiver of fear crept down my spine as I tried, and failed, to realize the implications of my newfound knowledge. Was I the only one who knew? Or was the entire world aware of the sham? I felt sick to my stomach as I remembered that morning’s athletics. I knew I had been a willing participant, but what about Summer? Did she really enjoy playing Alarm Clock, or had she been forced into the ultimate act of intimacy for the perverted benefit of a total stranger?



Great. Now I was quite possibly a rapist, even if an unwitting one.



“Hey, what’s taking so long up there?” Summer called from the floor below.”You fall asleep in the shower or something? Hurry up before your pancakes get cold, or worse, I eat them!”



I shook my head with a resigned sigh as I collected my bathrobe from the floor and belted it closed. I didn’t know what would happen if whatever was in charge found out that I knew what I knew, nor did I want it to. But just because I didn’t want them to be suspicious didn’t necessarily mean I wanted to give them a free show, either, so I made sure the sash was nice and tight as I headed downstairs to food. Half way down the steps I caught the scene to warm maple syrup and freshly cooked pancakes. My stomach growled encouragement at this discovery, reminding me that I still needed to eat whether or not this world was real. I was plenty hungry, especially after that morning’s exertions.



The kitchen looked like something out of a Lysol commercial. Large, widely spaced windows let in plenty of natural sunlight to gleam on the matched set stainless steel appliances. Fluorescent lights lit the marble countertops, all of which had been polished to a shine. Everything on display had been neatly organized, not a spoon, knife, or bowl out of place. The linoleum floor was absolutely spotless, as if no one had ever walked on it before.



It all looked as fake as it looked.



“About time you got down here, lazybones!”



My head snapped around as I stopped focusing on the room to see who had spoken and suddenly all my concerns vanished. Actually, it was rather difficult to keep my jaw in place as Tina Fey came walking around the table, wearing nothing more than a plain white apron and nothing else. Her breasts strained against the cloth, looking for any chance to escape as she moved. She had a skillet in one hand and a spatula in the other, and began to slide a trio of pancakes onto a waiting plate. She turned around as she did so, revealing there really wasn’t anything else touching her body. She hummed as she moved, her tight as bouncing with each step, and all I could do was gape in admiration. Moral implications aside, I was starting to like this game.



Summer giggled as a third person declared, “Well, he certainly looks happy to be up!” I glanced down, and sure enough there was a noticeable bulge in the front of my robe. One wrong move and I would have been poking through entirely! I reached down and pulled my robe closer to my body, only to realize that that made the bulge all that much more noticeable. I blushed in embarrassment, my cheeks doing a good imitation of a pair of tomatoes as the three girls laughed.



“I’m flattered dear, but unfortunately I have work today and would like to be able to sit down at my desk,” Mrs. Fey replied.



“Lay off him, Max,” Summer scolded playfully, slapping her partner in crime on the back of the wrist as I slipped into my seat. I was finding it hard not to stare at the two of them. Summer’s robe was loose, revealing too much cleavage and not enough at the same time. Max had taken it a step further, and didn’t seem to be wearing anything at all. I thought she looked sort of like Jessica Alba, with large brown eyes and full lips that begged to be kissed. She wore her hair about the same length as Summer’s, though she wore it bound rather than letting it hang free. That just meant that there was nothing to hide those wonderful breasts of hers. They were nice and firm, sitting high on her chest and capped by the most delicious looking chocolate colored nipples that were demanding to be licked.



Just what the hell was it with this family and not wearing clothes?



I must have been staring, because Max grinned at me as she reached down to fondle her tits. “I dunno, I think I’d rather lay on him than lay off him!”



Summer spit juice all over the table, scandalized by the double entendre. “Max!”



“Oh, please, we both know he likes what he sees!” Max snorted with a nod in my direction. “And don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, little Miss Alarm Clock.”



Summer blushed alongside me as Max began a surprisingly good imitation of Summer during sex. “Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Fuck me! Ha- Ha- Haaooooooh yeeees!”



The way she was shaking and carrying on made it seem as if Max really was having an orgasm , causing my cock to throb in sympathy. It wasn’t hard to picture my hands over her soft, supple skin so that I could tease those perky little nipples until she screamed for mercy. I thought my fantasies were going to have to remain just that, but Summer was full of surprises.



“Well, then maybe you can play Alarm Clock for the both of us tomorrow morning,” she taunted, licking her lips in anticipation. “Unless of course you’d rather not wait, and join us this evening instead…”



Max moaned at the thought of sharing our bed, which earned her a disapproving look from Mom. “Max, what have I told you about playing with yourself at the table? Just because your sister offered to share with you is no reason to act like a common whore. Just think about what your father would say if he was still here!”



I leaned over to Summer and whispered, “What would your dad say?”



“He’d remind her that being an uncommon whore pays better,” Summer giggled. “And that it pays better.”



“And you two stop whispering!” Tina scolded us, rapping us both on the back of the head with a serving spoon. “It isn’t polite when you are with any form of company. If you three overly hormonal children have that much time to indulge yourselves, then you can very well go get ready for school. Just because Greenville is a community college doesn’t make it any less important to your futures!”



We all cheered, “Yes, Mom!” but I was groaning on the inside. I thought I was long done with college, and the idea of suddenly finding myself back in those stagnant halls was not pleasing. On the other hand, if I was going to be spending most of my day in the company of eye candy as tasty as Summer and Max then maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all. Besides, I had already done it all before, so there wouldn’t be any surprises. In fact, I started to expect it to be pretty easy, what with me already having all the answers. Sure, there would be things I didn’t know off the top of my head, but it would be a little weird if acted like some sort of super genius, especially if it seemed like an overnight change to the rest of the world.



The girls and I flirted playfully as we headed up to our rooms, only parting ways as we got to my door. Summer’s room turned out to be the one between mine and the bathroom, while Max’s was directly opposite Summer’s. There was another room opposite mine that had been converted into a study, and Momma Fey’s room occupied the other end of the hall. Hers was really more of a small suite, with the door to the hall opening into a small sitting room that joined her bedroom on the left to a master bath with built in Jacuzzi on the right.



I didn’t want to look like I was going to church, so I did some digging in the dresser and managed to turn up a fairly comfortable pair of jeans. I ended up pairing it with a loose fitting plaid shirt that I left untucked with the sleeves sort of scrunched up on my arms. It still felt too clean shaven for my tastes, but until I had a grasp on the money situation in this world I was going to avoid going on any shopping sprees.



Despite the search for the jeans I still managed to be the first one down stairs. Granted, based on some of the shrieking coming from Summer’s room there might have been more than just dressing going on, but I wouldn’t know because I wasn’t invited. I ended up waiting for them by the door, passing the time with a much read copy of John Ringo’s March Up Country. The good guys were fighting a pitched battle in the ruins of an ancient city when the girls finally appeared at the top of the stairs.



Holy Hell, I was going to need to find some way to wire my jaw in place or I was going to end up losing it. The girls had picked radically different outfits, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t tried to dress as sexily as possible. Summer was wearing as little as possible, a pair of sneakers, a pair of hip hugging shorts, and a midriff baring tank top. The shorts were as tight as was decently possible, and only a few scant inches long. The tank top was nearly backless, held up only by the thinnest of spaghetti straps. The front was cut dangerously low, exposing a sumptuous amount of her chest. The top of the shirt was less than half an inch from her nipples, which were straining against the thin cotton in their best effort to be noticed. I was sure that one good bounce would set them on the road to freedom, but the top was nearly as tight as her shorts. Either way, there was no way in hell she was wearing underwear.



Max, by contrast, was more modestly indecent. She was dressed in a black leather outfit that looked like it had been painted on. It definitely covered more than what Summer was wearing, but somehow managed to be all the more provocative. Her pants split just above the knee cap, the leather parting to expose the top of her thighs. It was a straight cut, however, with the broad, crisscrossing laces curving inwards so that anyone following the pattern would find themselves drawn to her crotch. The jacket she was wearing was short sleeved and just as seductive. It hugged her curves nicely, giving her tits an extra little lift for emphasis. The only ornamentation was a shiny silver zipper controlled by a platypus shaped tab about half an inch long. It sat halfway between the top and bottom of her tits, a shiny little lure designed to lead the eye to her cleavage. I was torn between trying to look at both her chest and crotch at the same time and nearly ended up cross eyed for my efforts.



Max laughed as I shook my head to try and clear my vision. “Well, well, it seems our outfits have been approved!”



“Everyone on campus is going to be absolutely enthralled by you two,” I answered, trying to ignore just how uncomfortable my pants were getting.



“All the better to make sure you keep your eyes on us,” Max purred as she pressed her body against mine. I swallowed, trying to ease the dryness in my throat as I felt her wonderfully soft breasts pressed against my own. That jacket was thinner than I had thought, and when I looked down I could help but watch the perfect curve of her tit disappearing into the shadows. She nipped playfully at my ear as her hand slid down my stomach to-



“Knock that off!” Summer demanded, swatting Max playfully on the ass. “There will be plenty of time for that later. Now we really need to get going or we really will be late for class.”



“Spoil sport,” Max sighed with great exaggeration. Summer’s scolding wasn’t enough to keep her from reaching between my legs and giving my cock a quick squeeze. “Until later then. If maybe not as much later as you think…”



Summer rolled her eyes but didn’t offer any further comment as she led the way through the door. I tried to puzzle out Max’s comment, but the world wasn’t done throwing curve balls at me. Parked in the drive way were two cherry red convertibles and they were easily the clickest rides I had ever seen. They had unusually low slung bodies that could seat six apiece, three in the front and three in the back, with plenty of leg room to spare for all parties. They were both a little longer than the cars I was used to, with the rear quarter occupied by a spacious trunk. Two wings rose diagonally from the sides, making the car look like the product of some Detroit engineer’s wet dream.



The girls made sure I sat in the middle as we climbed in, leaving Summer in the driver’s seat. The wheel looked like some sort of gaming rig, missing the top and bottom and quarters so that only two pie slice shaped handles remained. For reasons I didn’t yet understand it had also been installed at a seventy five degree angle. Adding to my confusion was the fact that there didn’t seem to be any ignition or transmission to change gears. Instead there was a pair of black plastic tabs within reach of Summer’s finger tips, and as I watched with great interest she slid open a small panel in the center of the steering wheel and typed in a seemingly random seven digit number. I waited to hear the familiar roar of an engine coming to life, but nothing happened.



Nothing, that is, until the car lurched into the air and began climbing rapidly.



I managed to not scream like a little girl as we raced away from the ground, a fact I am quite proud of, even if it did take every ounce of willpower I had. Don’t get me wrong, I was thrilled by the idea of flying cars and had always dreamed of riding in one. The catch was that I was terrified of heights, and had always expected there to be inside a flying car with a roof. Riding in the convertible was like riding in a roller coaster without the benefit of a safety bar. My stomach was planning on taking up a permanent residency in my throat when finally leveled out. It eventually decided to move back to its proper home, helped by the sight of other cars flying past us. I just had to make a conscious effort to watch the tops of the trees whizzing by below us. I didn’t realize my discomfort was so visible until Max laughed. “You know, if you don’t get over your fear of heights you’ll never get your sky license.”

“Yeah, well,” I snorted, staring at the dashboard to avoid looking out the windshield. “As long as I can drive on the ground I’ll be fine. At least on the ground I won’t need to wait to get to the crash site if something goes wrong!”



“Aww, poor baby,” Max cooed, running her fingernails down the inside of my thigh. “Tell you what, I could always distract you till we get there…”



My cock twitched at the suggestion, but Summer once again decided to nip Max’s intentions in the bud. “Hey, not with the top down! Mom will kill me if I get another ticket for public lewdness! You know that!”



Max began to pout. “Oh, fine, I’ll save it for later, then.”



“Thank you,” Max replied, steering us over a black iron fence. She hovered for a moment behind another car, then touched down in the middle of a black asphalt circle. She pulled out of the circle onto a two lane road that led to a large parking lot. Cars could be seen taking off and pulling into the flight lanes without a problem, but everyone landed at one of the designated circles. I thought about it for a moment, then realized it was actually a pretty good method for making sure people didn’t accidentally get squashed when a car landed. I still wasn’t sure whether they what it was that allowed the cars to fly, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to negate nearly two thousand pounds of plastic and metal landing on someone’s head.



Summer paused as we got out of the car and began to dig through her pack. “here,” she said, handing me a piece of folded paper. “Its your schedule. You left it in my room last night and I spotted it on my desk while getting dressed. Thought you might want to have it for today.”



“Thanks, lovely,” I replied, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “I definitely owe you one.”



“Then I’ll make sure to collect this evening,” she accepted, grabbing me by the face and pulling me into a full contact kiss. Her tongue was just starting to invite mine over to visit when we were rather rudely interrupted.



“Ahem.” We broke apart to find Max staring at us, tapping her foot with disapproval. “What was that about avoiding any more tickets for lewdness, dear?”



“Yeah, but at least this time I actually would have been the one to earn it,” Summer replied smugly.



“Girls, girls, enough!” I ordered, holding up my hands in a silent appeal for peace. “There is plenty of me to go around, as well as plenty of time for the two of you to share. Now, if we could all get on with things?”



“Yes, dear,” they both answered in unison, leaning in to give me a fast kiss on the cheek before each heading off on their own. I unfolded had handed me, and started reading it as I entered the campus proper. I kept one eye on the paper as I walked and the other on the campus itself, curious as to my surroundings. I wondered what college would be like in this brave new world, and it looked like I wasn’t going to be disappointed. It seemed minimal dress was the preferred style around these parts, with most people wearing not much more than Summer was. Tall, short, thin, or fat, it didn’t seem to matter what you looked like, you wore as little as the weather permitted. There was a cheerleading squad practicing in uniform by one of the quads, and I couldn’t help but think they looked particularly over dressed, not a thought I normally associated with their typically skimpy costumes. There were also plenty of people dressed like I was, simple jeans t-shirt type outfits.



It was what was missing that stood out in my mind. There were no skater kids in baggy clothes practicing tricks on the curbs. There were no punks or metalheads proudly proclaiming their allegiance to this or that musical act by parading around in band merchandise, nor were there any t-shirts emblazoned with memetic catchphrases or triumphs of insanity. There was no sign of any counter culture groups anywhere, as if the entire campus was dominated by mundane and exhibitionists. More weirdness to add to the list.



My first class was “Advanced Creative Writing”, as taught by one Professor Rick Castle. Room 225 in something called the Silver Building. On one hand, I was a sophomore so I should have already known my way around campus. In truth, I had figuratively been born only that morning. Have you ever tried to read a campus map? It was a dirt brown board marked by white paths branching out like the limbs of an ancient oak tree. Irregularly shaped green splotches marked the locations of buildings, helpfully marked in chipped and fading paint. Four matching black squares sat in the corners, representing the parking lots, add a touch of graffiti to flavor, then finish by having some joker scrape off the “You Are Here” sticker, and voila! Instant uselessness that nearly had me late to my first class. Fortunately, it was a small group so the professor didn’t mind waiting for me.



Especially since it was so small that I seemed to be the only person in it.



Castle had been sitting at his desk, feet propped up next to his computer screen when I finally came puffing into the room, having run the last few yards to make sure I beat the bell. He had a paperback copy of Heat Rising, his own cheerful smile decorating the back cover. “Ah, if it isn’t the prodigal author, back from his summer vacation! So tell me, how was it? Any passionate love affairs or misadventures of derring do?”



“Ah, not that I know of?” I hazarded. “Just a typical summer vacation.”



Castle looked crestfallen. “Well, that’s rather disappointing. I was at the least expecting an encounter with Somali pirates or rock hounds in orbit around Mars. Nothing? Really?”



“Well, uh,” I hesitated, my mind racing for an answer that wouldn’t disappoint him. I didn’t know why, but for some reason I felt it was important to impress him. “I did spend a couple of weeks temping with a PI. I was supposed to be working on a cheating wife case, but it turned out the guy she was fooling around with was Daemon Sadisto, one of the local capos. Well, he thought we were with the cops and tried to whack us to keep us quiet. We tried to get out of there, but they managed to corner us in an old abandoned warehouse. Shots were fired in anger, and both Daemon and the broad bought it. Unfortunately my boss also caught a round, and last I heard he was still in rehab. Though that could also be because his live in nurse is a redhead, so…”



“Well done!” Castle announced, clapping his hands in triumph. “See? Stories are always there, you just need to reach out and listen for them. I want five pages out of that by the end of class on Friday.”



“Speaking of the class,” I said, looking



around the room. “Where is everyone else?”



“Dropped the class,” Castle answered, dropping back into his chair. “It probably should have been canceled, but the administration likes to boast that they have a big name author on the payroll, so I need to actually have a few classes to my name for them to justify it. Doesn’t really matter how big the class is though, and I’m sure we’ll get a couple more students once the year picks up.”



“Ah, ok. ” The door opened behind me, letting in a tall, lanky brunette. She actually had half an inch on me, courtesy of the three inch stilettos she was wearing. She was dressed professionally in a slate grey skirt suit that almost seemed designed to be undressed by the eyes.



“Professor Beckett, what a surprise!” Castle said, bolting out of his seat. “What brings you to my little corner of the building?”



“Well, it seems all of my dry erase markers have disappeared,” Beckett admitted with a knowing smile. “It makes teaching my Intro to Criminology class a wee bit difficult. You wouldn’t happen to have any I could borrow?”



“As a matter of fact, I do!” Castle answered with a smile. He reached into the top drawer in his desk and pulled out a brand new box of markers. “Here, help yourself.”



“Thank you, Rick!” Beckett matched his smile with one of her own as she took the box and helped herself to some of the markers. “You know, you might want to stop by and observe my class some time. You might learn something for those mysteries of yours.”



“You know, I would love to!” Castle accepted. “You should give me a copy of the schedule, I’ll see how many of them I can make.”



“I’ll do that,” Beckett replied with a nod. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my students before they think I’ve abandoned them and decide to use it as an excuse to cut.”



I waited for Beckett to leave before turning around and asking Castle, “Did you…?”



“Steal her dry erase markers just so that she would have a reason to come down here and talk to me? Of course not!” He shook his head, but I could tell he was trying not to laugh. “That would be much too obvious, and I’m sure she’s going to ask if anyone saw me do just that. She’s too suspicious for her own good, that woman. Nah, I paid one of the janitors a hundred bucks to ‘accidentally’ throw them out when he went into clean the room last night.”



I hung around for a little while longer after that, but there really wasn’t much I could do with Castle that I couldn’t do on my own. Having fulfilled the grueling demands of the administration by taking a successful roll call, Castle decided to release me back into the wilds of academia. A quick check of my schedule told me that my next class wasn’t for several more hours, so I decided to head to the library. It was time to do some research into my strange new world.



I found an empty computer terminal up on the third floor. The set up looked a little retro, reminding me of the old black and green monsters that I used to play Oregon Trail on back during elementary school. But just because it looked old didn’t mean it was old. Instead it handled like Steve Job’s fantasy machine, moving so quickly and effortlessly that it didn’t even seem to need to load a page. Just click and boom! Instant information. Better yet, Wikipedia still existed, and the next thing I knew I was lost in a tangled maze of hyperlinks.



The world wasn’t just strange – it was fundamentally different from anything I knew. For starters, World War II never occurred, at least not as I knew it. Hitler never rose to power, but was instead arrested for his part in the Reichstag fire and sentenced to twenty years in prison. Irwin Rommel took over instead, and even instituted many of the same military policies that helped rebuild Germany in the first place. The difference was that Rommel left out the fear and hate mongering of the Nazis, preferring to cast foreign powers as the bad guys instead of Jewish boogeymen. Thus when the Soviet Union and China kicked off the Panasian war by invading Poland and Japan, it was Rommel’s Iron Legions that were the first to respond to Polish calls for aid, giving Britain and France a chance to muster their own troops. Pearl Harbor still occurred in 1942, but instead of Japanese Zeroes it was Soviet built planes and ships crewed by Chinese troops. It also didn’t go as well, a consequence of the attacking fleet relying on codes that had long been broken by German and British intelligence operations. Instead of a fleet of sitting ducks lined up neatly at anchor, the Pacific fleet met their would-be killers with open arms and loaded guns. D-Day came about on April 1st, 1944, when US troops landed in Hong Kong as the European allies raced towards Moscow.



No Holocaust. Not atomic bombings. But there had been a Manhattan project.



In 1945 a combined team of American. British, German, and Japanese engineers unveiled the first nuclear reactor designed for public use. They continued to design the atom bomb alongside it, but without the lingering specters of Hiroshima and Nagasaki to haunt the public’s memories the bombs were seen as nothing more than extravagant, if useless, weapons. After all, what good was a city if it got turned into a glow in the dark wasteland?



No more Soviet Union meant no Cold War, and no Cold War meant no containment policy. Vietnam came and went – the French still lost and nobody cared. The North Koreans got steamrolled by the South, and the unified nation joined the Japanese and the recently rebuilt China in forming an economic powerhouse.



The 60s came, and brought the hippies with it, but without any major wars to protest they got a much warmer reception by the Establishment. Instead of the Arms Race there was the Space Race. On July 4th, 1967, Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin were the first men to step foot on the moon. They were joined two days later by Captains Broderick Smith and Hilda Bruin of the European Space Command, who had unfortunately been delayed by foul weather. Captains Broderick and Bruin were married later that afternoon by Colonel Sousuke Tamino of the Asian Administration of Space Exploration, who arrived shortly before Captain Broderick had begun to serve the afternoon tea. Luckily for all involved, Captain Broderick had packed a little bit extra, just in case of visitors.



Kennedy got assassinated by Cuban refugees upset about the Bay of Pigs fiasco and Nixon resigned over Watergate. A young black man by the name of Terel Simpson was murdered on the balcony of his hotel room in Birmingham, Alabama. Simpson had been a member of the Black Empowerment League, and had been assigned as the bodyguard of one Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., who had recently received several death threats.



The shooting served as a wake up slap to America, as several riots broke out in major cities as a response to the shooting. Dr. King and several other leaders managed to calm the violence with strict appeals to reason and justice. The trial of the shooter, one Marcus Cerreta, was the media event of the year. The case was put together by a handpicked group of investigators, who went over every detail with painstaking thoroughness. The trial was as methodic and by the book as possible, interrupted only every so often by the defendants outbursts of racist rhetoric. Several years later, Dr. King would become the first black president.



The 70s came, and they were even more radical than the 60s. The ideals of free love and brotherhood became wedded to the means of capitalism and industry. The American philosophy soon became, “Do no harm, and make a buck while you’re at it.” The successes of the black activists inspired a new wave of those who stood up for themselves; the public was more than welcoming, and soon all were equal under the eyes of the law. There were still a few lone nutjobs, but they were all treated as the exception, rather than the rule.



Page after fascinating page went by. Waco happened but Oklahoma City didn’t. No commie menace meant no McCarthy, which translated into no Reagan. Instead Carter and Bush Sr. got extra terms. There was no Iraq or Iran, but a Persia who was good friends with Israel, as they shared a mutual interest in checking Egyptian aggression. The last bit had me sitting there shaking my head in disbelief. I made a mental note not to discuss politics with anyone for a while, as even simple mainstays such as the Republican and Democratic parties seemed alien. The head of the democrats actually was an alien – a lime green fellow with three eyes named Oxilaindilar, who had originally immigrated to the States from Venus with his parents.



“Hey, buddy, you using that?”



“Huh?” I turned around to find myself face to stomach with a beefy looking jock waiting for the computer. The name tag on his jacket read, “Yawgmoth”. I glanced at the clock behind him and realized I had lost all track of time. If I didn’t hurry I was going to be late to my next class. “Nah, go ahead, its all yours.”



“Damned right it is,” he grunted, sliding into the still warm seat. I froze for a moment, fighting the urge to make a sarcastic remark. I didn’t like to let such petty insults go, but I also had no clue what I was up against. The only Yawgmoth I knew had been a dark god wannabe from a fantasy card game. Fifty – fifty shot I was dealing with either a normal pissy jock with testosterone poisoning or an eldritch horror from beyond time and space that would more than capable of melting my face with a word. I decided I liked my face right where it was, thank you, so I just muttered, “Whatever,” and kept walking.



My next class was Human Sexuality, conveniently located in the same building as my Creative Writing course. The classroom itself was located all the way down in the basement, in the back corner by the boilers. Both boilers were going full blast despite the summer heat, pumping plenty of hot water up to the science labs buzzing away on the top floor. The air conditioning in the basement wasn’t up to the herculean task of fighting the overflowing heat. The end result was like standing in the middle of a desert without a shred of shade to hide in, but at least it was a dry heat.



The room was packed, adding to the heat problem. Every seat in the room was occupied, leaving me nowhere to sit. There were slightly more guys than girls, and the reasons why were obvious. The outfits the girls were wearing were skimpy, even by the lax standards I had observed outside. Quite a number of people had simply decided to go without clothes altogether, their outfits rolled up and stuffed into the baskets underneath their desks. The lone holdout, unsurprisingly, was Max. She was sitting in the corner seat and still wearing her leather outfit, as if the heat didn’t bother her at all. She waved me over as she slid out of her chair. “We seem to be a seat short, so you take this one.”



“What about you?” I asked, taking the offered seat. I suppose it was a sign that I was getting used to the place when I wasn’t at all surprised by her plopping into my lap. The thin leather she was wearing was more like a second skin than an article of clothing, and my cock began to harden as she squirmed in my lap. Her hips gyrated slowly, and it didn’t take long for me to realize she wasn’t trying to get comfortable, but was trying to give me a subtle lap dance. The only one who seemed to notice all the foreplay was the dark haired girl sitting next to us. She was pretending to be reading from the text book, but I could tell she was watching us out of the corner of her eyes by the way her pen had been sitting in the same place for more than two minutes. Well, if we were going to have an audience, then it was only fair that we put on a show…



Max hissed through clenched teeth as I slid an arm around her waist and began to stroke the inside of her thigh. I began at her kneecap and began working my way inward with shorter and shorter strokes, until I was just barely grazing her crotch with each pass. Her lap dance became a more insistent grinding as she bit her lip to keep from moaning out loud. Our neighbor gave up any pretense of studying and was now actively staring at us. She licked her lips and glanced around nervously, unsure if she should say something, keep watching or offer to join us. She caught my eye, but I didn’t have any answers for her. This was quite possibly the most outrageous thing I had ever done, and my brain was operating on autopilot in self defense. My fingers brushed against the button holding Max’s pants closed, and she tensed at the contact. I twisted open the first, then the second.



I was just reaching for the third and final button when the classroom door slammed open, letting through a stacked brunette carrying a briefcase. She was wearing a light blue button down with the sleeves rolled up and the front low enough to expose the black bikini top she was wearing in lieu of a bra Her daisy dukes did nothing to hide her long, tanned legs, a pair of sea green eyes sparkled from behind a pair of narrow glasses. She tossed her briefcase carelessly onto her desk before reaching for a red dry erase marker.



“Good afternoon boys and girls, I am Doctor Andrews,” she announced, scrawling her name in huge letters across the board. “Welcome to Human Sexuality 101. Those of you who are expecting a rehash of your high school health classes should probably leave now. This also going to be a hands on course, so those who object to having a little fun should leave now. Any questions?”

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