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From: "Sean Farragher" <sfarragher@nj.rr.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} TxM6: Laurie Fallon's Journal  Mf   "The Gay Professor"  
Date: Thu,  2 Jan 2003 20:10:05 -0500
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TxM6: Laurie Fallon's Journal: "The Gay Professor and Henry"
(c) 2003 Sean Farragher


http://www.seanfarragher.com
http://www.seanfarragher.com/hyperfiction
http://www.seanfarragher.com/txm6
http://www.seanfarragher.com/lcfallon
http://www.seanfarragher.com/enfer
http://www.seanfarragher.com/poetry
http://www.seanfarragher.com/Joss




THE GAY PROFESSOR:

"Multiple Masks of Van Gogh, Peter Lorre and Rasputin"
Paper by Laurie Fallon, December 8, 1991
Comparative Literature W3432y. Dr. Elkin.
Tue and Th. 2:20 - 4:45
Dodge Hall Rm. 501. Columbia University.



"I was terrified when I wrote about Rasputin," Laurie told Professor Elkin,
looking him in the eye, putting her hand on his wrist while she talked.
"When Rasputin murdered Peter Lorre and that guy murdered Myrna Loy, I felt
him stagger like I do when I come. Passion's connected. I didn't care if it
were a movie, I wanted him. I felt it here inside my sex, bet you think I
am wet. Don't look so surprised, you know me. I am that slut in your class.
Don't be shy fuck. I love it how you almost stammer when I come on to you.
You love it more when some stupid ass student is here listening, don't
you?"

Elkin said nothing but did slightly smile. Laurie continued.

"I loved it when Raskolnikov turned away at the end, and didn't murder that
pawnbroker. How did he revise it, having read it before he wrote it I
wondered how he would finish."

That wasn't all Laurie did. Laurie loved time travel fantasy and changing
historical events and literary history. That is the reason she enrolled at
Columbia College.

As Laurie sketched murder scenes, speaking very low, from deep in her
throat, she held the Professor's wrist, letting her nails dig into the soft
under part caressing the pale blue gray veins she had wanted to suck when
he wrote fast on the black board.

Watching Elkin's eyes, Laurie mapped pleasure that sought pain at the other
end, as he wished to suffer, Laurie touched ache, and was rigid, almost
orgasmic, anticipating being touched and knowing she could not be really
touched in his faculty office doubling as a class room. What if one of the
faculty walked in suddenly.

Laurie knew Elkin was trapped and she kept up the pressure bringing him to
his knees, and she imagined lifting her black skirt, wearing no underpants,
shaved partially, her lips bare, and forcing his head there she would make
him love like a woman too. That's what he had told her he desired, after
all.

Blinking her eyes, Laurie looked around, breathing deeper. They were alone.
Any one could walk into the room. Laurie kissed him opening his mouth,
forcing her tongue inside, she felt for his cock massaging it through his
pants. She cried into his mouth, "you're my bitch. Fuck me girl. Suck my
pussy. Lick it. Biting his neck, then his nipples, ripping at him, Laurie
cut him with her nails and he came.

Never letting go of the wrist, holding his thin pale wrist tighter, Laurie
ground her nails higher into his cheek, not breaking the skin, at first,
she traced the names Ginsberg into the top of his wrist, reciting "Howl"
and calling him a freaking queer. "Yes," Laurie spit into his face," I love
fucken queers and faggots. I had a dick once. I did. Feel the scar."

Laurie did nothing to expose her cunt. She wanted him passive.

Finally, pulling his head down, whispering in his ear, watching his sweat,
she said, "I love cut cocks. I will suck it after class. Shall we go to the
West End for drinks, or will your boyfriend be there. Can I join you two?"

Elkin didn't pull his hand away, and he said neither yes nor no. He looked
at Laurie, half smiling. Laurie cut his arm deeper, not playing at all she
shredded the skin. Silent, at last, she pulled his hand up to her face,
spreading his fingers with her tongue, she forced his hand down to her
tits, making it touch her left nipple, playing with him, carefully taking
his other hand she lowered it so the back of his hand brushed against her
pubis through her jeans.

As Laurie rubbed her tits with his knuckles, deftly opening her two buttons
on her red blouse, her nipples stood up, her mouth now tightly shut,
looking almost demonic, Elkin breathed harder.

Laurie loudly told the professor (hoping someone would enter the room) that
she had hoped he would make a pass at her, and thought he was cute, and
knew he preferred men but that she loved men who fucked men.

Elkin didn't blink. Laurie dropped his hands, showed him her tongue, picked
up her paper on Rasputin, clearly marked A, graded before he knew what she
had offered, and Laurie went home alone, pissed.


THAT WAS TWO WEEKS EARLIER

Arriving at class before most of the students, Laurie wanted to be praised
again for her paper. She wanted to tell him that his compliments weeks ago,
when she was last in the twice-weekly class, had turned her on. She wanted
him to know that night she made love to Henry and imagined fucking this
slight nervous man.

Elkin understands Laurie's love for playing movie characters like Myrna Loy
or Rasputin. He knows her imagination can create anyone. Laurie was so high
saying this that Henry did not laugh.

Two weeks later, Laurie came to class early knowing Elkin would be there
getting ready. There were five graduate students and three upper level
undergraduates.

Laurie was the only sophomore. "I manipulated my advisor," she told Angela.

Angela laughed. "You mean you blew him."

"No, I let her eat me on the floor of her office."

Laurie kept seduction locked in her memory.



OUTSIDE ELKIN'S DODGE HALL OFFICE

Laurie hated waiting. Why was he late, she thought, standing outside his
locked office? Finally he arrived, smiled said nothing, opened the office
door, held the door open for Laurie and followed her inside.

Elkin had told his students many times that this was a good time to talk
about things. If Laurie had her way, he would take her home, to a motel, or
to his car. She would fuck him and make him feel what she had felt when his
eyes looked at her mind and saw not ordinary lust but lust filled with the
capacity for rage and punishment. "He told me, Henry, that it was not just
my power with words, but how I understood murder.

"He is just like you, Henry, but he really likes the pain, and you pretend
that you do."

That night, Laurie told Henry she wanted to ravage her professor as she
called him. "I want you there to watch and then I am going to fuck you with
that black buck ten inch dildo while he watches your ass flood open split
raw."

"Just like you and Aaron," Laurie said, I want him to feel your pleasure
inside my cunt and Aaron's inside my ass.

Henry told her it was fine with him "as long as he doesn't want to kiss me
or fuck my ass. He can suck me off if you watch and help," Henry liked to
pretend he would fuck around with men. Laurie knew he was full of shit and
laughed at his pretense challenging him to let some guy fuck his ass so he
would know what it is really like. "I love it," Laurie said, but like all
good things, "one has to be ready for them. Are you Henry?"

In class now, Laurie asked more. "What did you think of my last paper on
Manson?"

Yes, it was Elkin said, and shuffling papers, finding it easily he handed
it to Laurie. I gave you an A for content and a B for sloppy proof reading.
Get an A on the exam next week, and you will get an A for the course."

Laurie looked at the A and didn't see the B slashed underneath.

Elkin spoke. "It was better than the last, but Laurie, I need you to come
to class. You have missed too many. I have to take attendance. Rules are
just that. I don't want to lower your grade because you choose not to come
to class. You are almost in danger of failing because of attendance."

"What do you really want," Laurie smiled.

I've only been absent six times. "Aren't I allowed five," she protested
suddenly serious.

Laurie then smiled and asked, matter of fact, like she might ask someone to
pass the cream. "Have you ever had your cock sucked so fine you think you
were talking to God?"

Elkin smiled softly, and touched Laurie's left hand, taking it into his.

Laurie made her point, sat down and smiled, removed her sweater to show her
tits, and then the next student arrived in class, and Elkin speaking
clearly said, "Can we talk about this later Fallon?"

When Elkin talked about murder in literature, Laurie imagined herself on
the floor sucking his cock in front of the class, and as she was sitting in
the first row, in a make shift faculty office/class room, Laurie hidden by
a bookshelf from the other students, massaged her nipple gently while the
professor gestured.

Openly taking it out at one point by lifting the pullover shirt and finding
the ridge of her nipple, she feigned an ouch taking her nipple in her
finger tips and squeezing it very hard so he knew she felt pain and was
fine with it.

Laurie described the moment in another way.

I am six feet tall. He was five six. I was over dressed or undressed for a
college class. My tits were showed to the top of my nipples. It was winter.
It was hot in the room. I wore a slight blouse with a covering white wool
sweater. When I took off my top, my shirt pulled up, and not wearing a bra,
he could see my breasts. I know he saw me. I did it before the rest of the
kids came to the class and I pulled up the blouse later while he was
talking about some obscure Russian who wrote about the Gulag.

Sitting there in white too small pull over blouse, my nipples strained. I
loved it."

By her manner and dress Laurie was more the typical adult student then the
undergraduate. Yet, she teased the guys and was friendly with the girls.
Everyone accepted her.

"The conversations about murder and rape in literature after Elkin's class
get really dark," she told Henry.

"Do they make you wet," Henry smiled.

Ignoring his comment Laurie went on. "I really like him. He makes me feel
as if he knows death and not just as literature. Perhaps he has murdered
young boys or girls. I will make him confess, Laurie laughed.

"Henry, he came right out and said it. Looked me in the eye, and told me
that he couldn't get hard with a woman." I laughed at him and told him that
I don't care if he is hard.

"I can make him come soft."

Then Laurie stopped, looked away from Henry and said. I never got an A on a
paper before, and he told me that I had earned it, and that I didn't get it
for flirting."

"Can I read it," Henry asked?

"I never got an A before for a paper. Never. Columbia at that. You know I
asked him again before I finally left, adding, are you sure about the A?"

"Yes, Miss Fallon," speaking formally, "it is that good."

"See," Henry said. "Gay men are not so easily seduced."

Henry paused taking a bottle of seltzer out of the refrigerator, "Why don't
you ask Elkin over to the Gables some Wednesday night when all the TV's
take their clothes off."

"Sure, Laurie said, obviously pleased with the idea. "You know I asked him
if he ever had his cock sucked so fine.... "

Henry finishing the line said, "but God may have a cunt and not a dick."

"No! Almost," Laurie hit Henry on the ass, hard.

Sitting down on Henry's lap, filling all of it, Laurie continued her story,
playing with Henry's mouth.

"After class, I waited, Elkin had told me had to read at a poetry reading
downtown. I almost asked him if I could go. He said that he was meeting his
buddy there. I stopped. He said, "Well maybe next time I can read you some
of my own work."

"You write poetry," Elkin asked?

"Stop playing dumb I told him. You know I do."

Continuing to describe her conquest to Henry, Laurie moved her ass on
Henry's lap needing what was obvious.

Floating on him, crushing Henry, Laurie moved one leg between his leg, and
she continued her story about the professor while she rubbed his cock that
she had taken out of his pants as if it were hers.

Henry listened watching Laurie's hands and then lips filled with his cock,
letting it rest on the edge of her mouth, incredibly wet with salvia.
Fucking her mouth Henry pushed her down on her knees on the floor of taxi,
crushing her 6-foot legs, her back bent and her mouth stuffed. That was two
years ago and the first time we had done it on the taxi stand.

Laurie never lost one drop when he came. Wiping her lips with the back of
her hand when he was done, Laurie insisted on pushing her tongue deep into
Henry's mouth.

"You said that," Henry asked breaking his fantasy.

"Yes, and then like he didn't remember my line about sucking cock, he said,
"What do you want to show me."

I picked his hand up and sucked on his thumb. He seemed shocked but didn't
pull away.

I left him putting his papers away but he was smiling. He is not as gay as
he pretends.

"So invite him to the Gables," Henry repeated, "you can show him what he
missed," Henry taunted.

"Think he would strip and get drunk."

Laurie got up from Henry, needing some space, she said, and collapsed in a
facing chair.

"Come here," Laurie demanded.

Henry moved on command, anxious to please.

Playing with Henry's hands, catching and trapping them when he tried to
massage her tits. Laurie loved to provoke when she needed to control it
all.
"Come back," Laurie Commanded.

"No, you come to me," Henry opened his arms. "Can I read your paper on
Rasputin?"

"No," Laurie said. "You fuck me all the time. You know I love fags and one
thing you're not Henry is a queer."

Laughing, Henry said simply, "I have to meet this man who resisted you. If
he is almost straight, he's a Saint. You really would fuck him for an A.
Wait a second, what does fucking you all the time have to do with grades or
flirting or writing great poems. You have done that. You are great. I tell
you that all the time"

"Yep, and I fuck you all the time."

"What if he didn't give you ..."

"No," Laurie stopped Henry. "I would have sucked him off for a B and
offered my ass for an A. He's cute, you know. Very polite too. A bit too
reserved for me. But all in all, I think I could make him want to try a
girl out. Might alter him. I know this is all silly. Why do I play these
silly scenes out?"

"You don't need my permission to fuck him."

"I know," Laurie whispered. "That's the problem. I want it. I want you to
not let me be promiscuous. I want to be just held. I want you to possess
me. I never stopped being that romantic teenager who wanted you to seduce
me when I was fourteen."

Laurie had told Henry all of this before, but this time it was, as she put
it, "the voice inside my throat."


SOME WEDNESDAY:

Finally, it was Wednesday night and Laurie had heard Henry would strip at
the Gables freak night. Lillie had told him that there would be no more
bullshit.

"You strip or get the fuck out. That's the rules, Lillie had ordered. All
patrons must strip at least once a year. I keep the calendar.

Everyone knew Laurie meant it. She also had three big off duty cops who she
paid well to beat the peace into her place, as she put it.

Laurie only had brief fun that night. Henry was in a mood. She was in a
very melodramatic mood and they did not match.

"Why Henry, do you make me cry so fucken much. Why? Why do I care?
Everybody wants me. I want no one."

"I want you, but I can't really have you, can I?"

At that moment, just as she was about to light up a cigarette after not
smoking for a year, Laurie stopped, put it away, and got up from the bar.

Laurie watched the patrons at the bar and touched her lips self consciously
smiling and that voice returned inside where she breathed.

"Sometimes, I wish I could walk away. Where would I go? Oh I fear too much,
don't I she said to anyone. The walls shimmered, Laurie thought. What odd
colors. How can I not know grief when all around me is some death, murder
and more odd circumstances than I can every count up even using both my
hands and feet twice. Yes, I know that is a small number in the scales of
the universe. Who are we after to test it? Why not?



LATER THAT NIGHT:

"Henry, wake up. I want to fuck you. Stop sleeping. You are not dead. Stop
pretending. You are fucken scaring me. Why?"

"Go back to fucken sleep," Henry whispered, his voice sleep filled and
hoarse.

"I really thought you were dead Henry. I did. I can't believe you would
fuck with me that way.



THE TERROR OF NOT BEING GOOD ENOUGH

Month After Laurie Fallon's Abduction by the Man called Abel.


May 10, 1992

Moments after, resting on terror, Laurie withdrew into her masks as if it
was one portrait. Her personas obscured her outer sight.

Any one portrait, Henry told Aaron in Laurie's presence would be as if Van
Gogh painted only one of his rages or epiphanies.

"Read her last poem," Henry suggested, invoking more than memory. Read how
she lived and maybe you can take one more step closer to her characters.
Don't believe any of the soothsayers here who presumed to know her, Henry
looked up at the rim of the steering wheel of his car, and pushing down on
the gas, he stepped away from her memory as if he were racing from a
changed traffic life.

Henry, Laurie had told the father of her unborn child two weeks before the
kidnapping, I love extending my life into the philosophy of pleasure
humping madness. "I want the end and beginning in one solemn vow, as if my
promises, inside the word "yes" extended themselves not only as an infinite
series, but in the leap and track of snakes who bore human masks," Laurie
added, always not quite finished, "there is a darker mode."

"Yes can also merge with those aches in the pit of pits, after orgasm, when
breath is rapid, pupils dilated, abated respiration, almost empty, and then
the last pulse declines. "Is death that ache with coming?"

"Pleasure could be that inversion of birth," she continued, "an emptiness
without limit; yes, forgetting logic, consequences, responsibility, and of
course, any other bullshit college courses in the Philosophy of Core
Requisites and their bedrock insanity, Humanities A or B. Do I mean
inanity, that's right?"

"What do you think, Henry," Laurie asked playing with Henry's eyes as if he
were inside her mind watching every word.

Laurie didn't like it when he did it. She did it back to show him she could
get away with anything.

"I know," Laurie said, "that I'm like a small child."

In this mood, she rarely let Henry speak, let alone answer. Be quiet, she
said, covering Henry's mouth with her spreading fingers hooking one into
his lips.

Shifting again, her head turned back and her long hair whipped his face
leaving only a trace of her perfume as hello, when will I see you later.

This time, at least, Henry asked one question before Laurie finished
rolling his ascending soft murmurs in supportive cadence with hers. Never
giving up, Laurie crossed her arms, turning her back, the room swallowed
itself and in that not so simple pause, Laurie made her point.

Finally ending with a giggle silence was an uneven aftershock. Very much
the way one coin dropping on the floor sounds when there is no sound,
Laurie's breath, more rapid now, made Henry wish he were not leaving.

He would not see her again for ten months. Leaving for Boston in the
morning, Henry chose to visit his daughter. Seems like an ordinary thing
for a man to do. Your daughter has a child, and you go there.

Except this child was Henry's child. He found out on the same day that
Michelle was his daughter, and the child born two months ago was his
daughter in incest.

When Henry returned, Laurie was missing. Kidnapped, the newspapers said.
How odd her absence made the airport. How horrible their last disagreements
seemed now in a vacuum.

Yes, there, at the end, Laurie jumped from the bed to the floor to the
window, "look out there just past downward slope," she said but one phrase
stuck Henry, "I'm dead, remember, forget it.

"Behave!" Spoken softly, playfully, and as a tentative command, her uneasy
humor blew up the dust and din on the side of the road. Not even Henry knew
the play of her last riddles.

Apart from him, Laurie lived the last months of her life as more than a
prisoner, and yet, she became in the end, molecules strung together by
mysterious puzzles.

"I have no boundary, no profundity," Laurie told Angela the morning before
her abduction. "No one can chart the play of my last riddles. I have no
boundary?"

"Captured," she told Abel, when she felt the part of speech breaking down,
laughing at herself, acting almost hysterical, "murder me. Get it done.
Please!"

Laurie as a captive of the beast turned the beast. Eventually, he would
look the other way when Laurie murdered his half sister and accomplice in
kidnap and murder, Lilith.

Abel his conscience restored could not stand his sister. Christ Tina had
made that miracle. She had visited Abel and turned his heart into an ocean
and not stone. Laurie found a way to survive and fucked Able pretending to
be his long lost sister, killed Lilith simply, covering her head with a
plastic bag, her hands tied, she watched her eyes while she died. Abel was
sucking my cunt while his sister expired. She thought he was out of town.
We planned the whole thing, Laurie told Henry. When it was done I was so
turned on I fucked Able for two days. Fed him bennies to keep him up, and
ludes to get him down."

"You survived," Henry exclaimed two months after her rescue. Not really
shocked by Laurie's story. Thinking about Laurie in this way, Henry
realized it was all a fantasy, and Laurie was not safe. I wish she were
here fucking that faggot professor. We never got to know him. I miss
Laurie.

Continuing the fantasy, Henry heard Laurie. "I made myself do what I
thought you would have done had you been the victim.

"I am not certain I can save you," Christ Tina played God sucks Henry's ear
so Henry imagines and comes knowing Laurie's voice again.

"Who the fuck are you," Henry, drunk speaking to the strangers walked the
sidewalks outside the Gables after a long drunk.

No one listens to drunks so no one really paid any attention to Henry.

Sad isn't it, those strangers could have been present when this man Henry
talked to female Gods. Henry communicated with Great Spirits like the
Manitou after all.








Story Continues. Read more of the Laurie Chronicles at
http://www.seanfarragher.com/hyperfiction









XXXXXXX

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