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Message-ID: <40970asstr$1045753805@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com (Hungry)
NNTP-Posting-Date: 19 Feb 2003 23:49:42 GMT
User-Agent:  Xnews/2.09.30
Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} HUNGRY FOR EVE {Hungry Guy} (M/F fist tort nc Mdom enem exhib oral Fpov)
Date: Thu, 20 Feb 2003 10:10:05 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

{ASS} HUNGRY FOR EVE {Hungry Guy, Eve} (M/F fist tort nc Mdom enem 
exhib oral Fpov)
COLLABORATION BY:  Hungry Guy and Eve

Foreword:  This is the first story that I have written by request, 
and it is partly a collaboration with her.  I normally give 
permission for operators of erotic story web sites to redistribute my 
stories.  However, because this is a collaboration, we ask that you 
get permission from both of us before posting our story.  Authorship 
for this story belongs to both Hungry Guy (hungryguy@literotica.org 
or hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com) and Eve (who has requested to be 
anonymous).  Thanks.

    ###

    I had been lurking in the alt.torture newsgroup for years.  I had 
always had a fascination with BDSM, but most of my edge play had been 
in my own imagination.  While my husband would sometimes play along 
with my tamer fantasies, I knew that he'd freak if he knew my deeper, 
darker fantasies.

    As I was sitting on the sofa one evening sorting through the 
day's mail while watching television with my husband, I flipped 
through the semi-annual flyer from the local community college.  

    "Honey," I asked, "what would you think if I took this writers' 
workshop?"

    "Oh?  I didn't know you had an interest in writing, Eve."

    "There's this guy in the newsgroups who's been posting amateur 
BDSM stories.  I won't tell the class that's why I'm taking the 
course, but I'd like to learn to write my own stories that I can post 
too."

    "Then go ahead, Eve.  Have fun!"

    ###

    I drove to the campus after work the following Thursday for the 
first session of my writing class.  It was almost 7:30 as I entered 
Warren Hall and took the elevator to the third floor.  It was a short 
walk down to room 305.  

    I entered the classroom and was relieved that it was a small 
class.  There were only six other students present.  I took a seat at 
the small conference table at which they all sat and nodded a 
friendly smile to the others.

    The clock on the wall clicked 7:30 and the instructor walked in 
half a second later.

    Holding a half-eaten Dunkin' Donut, he swallowed and said, "Good 
evening, class," in a thick British accent.

    He took another bite of his doughnut, swallowed, and then 
continued, "Let's get started, shall we?  This is the writer's 
workshop for anyone who might be in the wrong room."

    He took another bite as one student jumped up out of his seat and 
rushed off apologetically, "Sorry, wrong class."

    The instructor swallowed that bite and continued speaking, "Let's 
start by introducing ourselves, and revealing why each of us is here.  
I shall go first.  I'm Henry, your instructor."  

    He pointed to the student to his left a young man in his mid-
twenties, and then took the last bite of his doughnut.

    "I'm Carl.  I want to learn to write Science Fiction.  I've 
submitted a number of stories to _Analog_ and _Asimov's_ and others, 
but have never made a sale."

    The instructor nodded to the next student.

    "I'm Lucy.  I love to read Harlequin Romances, and I'd love to 
try writing one someday." 

    The remaining students each introduced themselves.  Their 
objectives were all pretty much the same.

    In a flash it was my turn and all eyes were on my.  I hoped that 
I made a good impression.  My thirty-something figure was a little 
plump, but my 40D bra size still gave my that hourglass figure that 
gals try to achieve.  I brushed my long brunette hair back over a 
shoulder and introduced myself, "I'm Eve."  I paused, not wanting to 
reveal my true motives for taking this writing class.  "I'm married 
to a wonderful man who is very supportive, but I want more out of 
life than work and family.  That's why I want to write."

    The class had all introduced themselves, but during the 
introductions, Henry, the instructor, had opened up a Twinkie and was 
in the middle of a swallow.

    One of the student's spoke up to the instructor, "Hey Hungry, you 
really got to stop choking those things down, man!"

    The instructor laughed, "I know.  But I just don't have the 
willpower to resist their chocolate charms my good chap.  Say, didn't 
I see you in my Literature class yesterday morning?"

    "Yes, sir.  You have a good memory to remember me from that huge 
lecture hall."

    "Yes these night classes are much more pleasant.  I enjoy getting 
to really know my students one-on-one.  Now, let's get to work, shall 
we?  Who brought a manuscript to class with them today?"

    The rest of the class was spent reading one student's manuscript 
and then critiquing it, and then the same with another.  Henry told 
the class that we are required to write one short story per week to 
be critiqued by the class each Thursday, and to bring enough copies 
to hand out to the class.

    I was excited at how well my first class went.  And there was 
something hauntingly familiar about that professor, even though I had 
never met him before.

    The prof had left the room by the time I collected my purse and 
folder and I walked out of the room in a huddle of other students.  
We rode the elevator down and out the building.  I noticed the prof 
entering the cafeteria and I headed for my car to go home. 

    ####

    I spent the weekend writing a short story to bring to class. 

    ####

    The following week, I met up with Lucy walking through the 
parking lot, and we walked toward Warren Hall together.  

    "What do you think of Hungry Guy?" she asked me.

    _What the hell?_  "What are you talking about, Lucy?"

    "Hey, what'd I say, Eve?  I was just asking what you though of 
the prof?  I had him for freshman English last year.  He a real 
character!"

    "You call him _Hungry Guy_?" 

    "Yeah, everyone calls him that.  He's always eating something."

    We arrived in class a few minutes early and took our seats.  The 
prof showed up right at the dot of 7:30.

    "Good evening, class," he started.  "Do you all have manuscripts 
for the class to critique."

    I set my story on the table in front of me, as did all the 
others.  

    "Who wants to subject their masterpiece to the ravages of their 
classmates first?" 

    Lynn spoke up, "I can go first if no one else minds."

    Everyone, including me, heaved a sigh of relief.  Lynn handed out 
copies of her story to the rest of us and we spent the first hour of 
class finding typos, poor grammar, weak characterization, and 
otherwise tearing it to shreds. 

    I could tell that Lynn was shaken at these events.  Hungry must 
have also, for he told Lynn, "Please don't feel so bad, Lynn.  Even 
pros must expose their first drafts to this sort of scrutiny. 

    Like the first class, the prof left the room upon dismissing the 
class.  On my way back to my car, I walked down the sidewalk past the 
cafeteria and saw the prof eating a muffin and a cup of coffee.  What 
a hungry guy I thought he must be!  A sense of déjà vu hit me at that 
moment, but it vanished a split second later.

    ###

    By the third class, I had written a number of stories that had 
been critiqued in class.  I was getting better.  I had even written 
my first erotic story; but it was just for myself.  I could never 
show it to anyone, especially my husband.  It was about how the prof 
kidnapped me and took em home with him and raped me.  Maybe I could 
submit it to Literotica.com.  The first thing we did today was that 
the prof demonstrated an exercise in brainstorming.  He wrote a word 
on the blackboard, an each one of the class called out the first word 
that his word reminded us of.  Then we each called out a word that 
one of those other words reminded us of.  It was funny -- I kept 
thinking of words like "lick" and "suck" and "wet" and even "hungry."  

    When we had filled the chalkboard with words, we then called out 
story ideas from the assortment of loosely related words and were 
told to write a story based on these ideas for next class.  The prof 
smiled oddly at me for a second before we went on to critiques this 
week's story assignments.

    I don't know why, but I had my purse and folder ready to get up 
as soon as the prof dismissed the class.  I left the room ahead of 
the other students and was walking a short distance behind Hungry -- 
that's what we all called him now.  It was eerie, though.  Looking 
around, the campus was deserted.  The other students from the writing 
class had already dispersed, and it seemed that the prof and I were 
the only two people walking around outside at that moment. 

    At that moment he stopped and glanced behind him.  "Oh, it's only 
you, Eve," he said in his British accent.

    "Yeah.  It's only me.  I'm just headed to the café for a cup of 
coffee before I head home."  I don't know why I said that.

    "Me too.  Care to join me?"

    I walked with the prof into the empty cafeteria.  I got myself a 
cup of coffee from the coffee machine and took a seat at one of the 
tables.  Hungry joined me a moment later with his muffin and coffee.  
We were the only two people in the huge dining room.

    I took a sip of my coffee.  Man!  The coffee's bitter here.  
Hungry pointed to a counter where they was extra sugar, so I got up 
and returned with a few packets of sugar to add to my coffee.

    From there, we talked mostly chit chat.  How he was originally 
from New Jersey and he can't stand the heat of the desert here and 
longs to go back east when the job market improves.  I told him how I 
fly out east to visit relatives once a year or so.  

    But, wow, I was suddenly feeling dizzy -- like I had just smoked 
a joint or something.

    I must have looked ill.  "Are you all right, Eve?" he asked.

    "I'll be fine, I think I should be getting home, now, though."

    "Let me help you to your car?" 

    "Sure.  Thank you, Hungry."

    We walked out of the cafeteria and then the strangest feeling hit 
me.  The next thing I knew, I was tied up and in some kind of padded 
box.  It smelled like rubber and chemicals.  And it was moving 
somehow.  I could hear, like, traffic noises all around.  Damn, I was 
in the trunk of a car.  How long was I here?  I had no way to know.  
I tried to kick, but I just made a muffled metallic sound.  I 
remember seeing on one of those _Fox_ "Get Out Alive" shows that if 
you're kidnapped in the trunk of a car to start ripping out wires -- 
the cops will pull the car over for no tail lights  But I was bound 
so tightly that I couldn't move.  And I hadn't the foggiest idea 
where to feel around for wires.

    We had just turned onto some bumpy road.  It seemed that I was in 
there for about two hours.  But not knowing how long I had been there 
already, that didn't tell me anything.  At least, being night, it 
wasn't too hot.

    Finally, the car stopped.  I herd him open the door and walk to 
the back of the car.  He opened the trunk.

    "Hello, Eve."

    "Where the fuck am I?"

    "You're in my car's boot.  Let me help you out."

    "Fuck you!"

    "Gladly!  But first!" he held up a funny smelling cloth to my 
nose and held it there for a minute or so until I passed out again.

    I woke again laying on a mat in some strange windowless room.  
There was only one door on a far wall -- a steel door that looked to 
have no handle.  

    As for me, there was a steel collar around my neck padlocked to a 
heavy chain bolted to a stud in the middle of the floor.  Not only 
that, but I was also completely naked.  I felt so humiliated already 
knowing this asshole has seen and touched my body.

    There were other studs in the floor also with chains of various 
lengths bolted to them.  The walls were lined with all sorts of BDSM 
gear.  There was a Saint Andrews cross on one wall, a wooden pony, 
and a normal sawhorse in the middle of the room.  There were a number 
of suspension harnesses hanging from the ceiling.  And one wall was 
lined with glass cabinets full of all manner of BDSM gadgets.  
Overall it was a well stocked dungeon.  I'd be impressed if I wasn't 
here against my will.

    The chain wasn't long enough for me to reach any of the cabinets 
or the equipment.  

    About an hour later, the door slid open like an elevator door, 
and Hungry walked into the room.  He stepped over to me and said, 
"Good morning, Eve."

    "Holy shit!  You're Hungry Guy!  From the newsgroups!"

    "Rightie-oh, sister!  And I know what you like!"

    He grabbed another, longer, chan and locked it to my collar and 
then unlocked the short chain.  

    "Stand, bitch!" he commanded.

    I stood and he pulled me over to the saw horse.  

    "Lean over this."

    "Please!  Don't do this!"

    "Now, bitch!  And spread your legs against each leg of the 
sawhorse.."

    I leaned over the sawhorse with my ass in the air.  He reached 
down and shackled each of my ankles to each leg.  Then he walked 
around to my head and shackled my wrists to the other two legs of the 
sawhorse.  Then he unlocked the chain from my collar.

    Next, he went back behind me and felt up my pussy crack and up my 
ass crack.

    "You're so dry and tight, bitch.  I need to fix that first."

    "Pleas!  I beg you!  Don't do this to me!"

    "Oh, you'll like what I plan to do first.  It's what comes after 
that you'll scream in pain.  Bwaa, haa, haa!"  Yes, he actually 
laughed evilly, "Bwaa, haa, haa!"

    He kneeled down behind me and started licking my cunt.  

    He licked up from just below my clit, over my clit and over my 
pussy hole.  He stuck his tongue into my hole as he went over it.  
Then he went back down again.  He paused over my hole for a moment, 
fucking me with his tongue.  Then he continued back down to my clit, 
and played with my clit with his tongue for a while.  

    Then he licked up around the inside perimeter of my cunt, up over 
and around below my clit and back down again.  Oh wow!  I couldn't 
believe it.  Here I am being raped, and I was getting wet.  Then he 
went back up the middle again, like he did before.  He played with my 
clit, and then went up and lingered a moment over my pussy hole, 
fucking me with his tongue one more time, then back down to my clit 
again.  I couldn't believe I was on the brink of coming!  He 
continued up and tongue-fucked my hole again, and then came back down 
to my clit.  I felt like I was about to burst!  I had never come so 
close to coming so quickly before. 

    Back up he went, and around the perimeter again.  Get back to the 
target, man!  He went back up and down the middle again, like he did 
the last time.  I was _this_ close to coming, and then he started 
sucking on my clit, and just my clit.  Hard!  Like my clit was a tiny 
dick he was sucking on.  Here I come!  Oh God!  Here I come!  I 
started bouncing and thrashing like I had never came before.  I swear 
I made that sawhorse walk halfway across the room!  He even continued 
sucking on my clit while I came!  I just continued coming and coming 
until my clit started to hurt.  And then I still kept coming and he 
still kept sucking.  

    Damn, he was good!  My husband could learn a few things about 
eating pussy from him!  But shit -- I'm being fucking raped!  I 
should be thinking like that!

    I finally expended myself and he stopped sucking.  Then he stood.  
My view of him was from my upside-down head just inches from the 
floor, and I saw him unbuckle his pants and let them fall.  Oh shit!  
His cock was hard as a rock.  

    He stepped forward and jammed it into my pussy.  He pumped me a 
few times and then he stood there holding it inside me.  He moaned as 
I could feel him coming inside me.  

    Well, maybe he'll forget about torturing my ass.

    He finished coming and then he walked over to a cabinet and took 
out some sort of curved metal clamp-like thing.  "Do you know what 
this is?" he asked.

    I didn't answer.

    "It's a speculum.  And I know what you want me to do with it."

    "No!  Please!  That was just, you know, erotic chat.  You can't 
really do that to me!  Please!"

    He didn't answer, but I felt something cold touch my pussy.  Oh 
God!  He's pushing it inside me.  "Ow!  Ow!  Ow!  Please stop!"

    "Oh I haven't even started yet, Eve."

    I felt him fiddling with it, and then I felt it getting bigger 
and bigger, like a cock getting hard while inside my pussy.  But it 
still kept getting bigger and bigger.  Then it started to hurt.  Big 
time.  Still, he kept cranking it bigger.  

    "Eeeyow!" I cried at the incredible pain.

    "Hmmm," he said, "five centimeters diameter.  That's about three 
inches to you.  I think I can get your pussy a little bigger, don't 
you, love?"

    he started making it bigger again.  "Yeeeow!  Oooowwww!  Oh!  Oh!  
Owwww!  Ahhgggg!" I screamed with the intense pain.

    "There!" he said, "That should do it.  That's a good seven 
centimeters, or about four inches."

    He just stood there watching me for a while.  After a moment the 
pain seemed to ease, but the cold room air blowing inside my pussy 
sure felt really weird.  

    I should have kept quiet, but I asked, "Now what?"

    "Now what?  Now comes the main event, love."

    Shit!

    He brought over some more little metal things and reached under 
the horse.  "Wow!  Look how hard those nipples are!  Don't tell me 
you're getting off on this!"

    Was I getting off on this?  I honestly didn't know any more.  He 
clamped the nipple clamps on my nipples.  They hurt, but I've worn 
nipple clamps before, and it wasn't so bad.

    But I spoke too soon for he next placed a clamp on my clit.  
Eeeeyowww!  I saw stars!

    Then he got down on his knees again.  I couldn't believe it when 
he started licking and rimming my asshole.  He spent several long 
minutes getting my asshole good and wet with his mouth.  I couldn't 
believe he did that.  I almost told him, "Don't put your mouth to my 
asshole!  You don't know what's been in it."  But I don't think it 
would have been funny, given the situation.

    Then he stood again, and I saw him spread something on his cock 
from a small tube.  I sure hoped that was KY Jelly.  Then he put his 
cock to my asshole, and pressed gently.  I tried to clamp my asshole 
tight, but the speculum holding my cunt open also prevented me from 
clamping my ass sphincter closed tight.  He increased the pressure 
and I felt the head of his dick penetrate me.  He steadily increased 
the pressure and he cock slowly oozed into my asshole.  Thank God he 
was doing it slow and gentle, and it wasn't hurting as bad as I 
feared.  Other than that it felt like I had to take a wicked shit, it 
actually felt pretty good, to be honest.  I guess this isn't the time 
to be honest, though.

    He finally got it all the way in, and I could feel his hips 
pressing against my ass.  

    "Oh man!" he moaned.  "That feels so good, Eve!  Your asshole is 
so tight and hot!"  

    I could feel his cock twitching inside my rectum and then I heard 
him grunt again.  I knew he was coming inside me again.  Somehow, I 
could feel it inside me.

    He held it in me for a few moments more before he pulled it out 
again.  I felt like I had to shit so bad that I couldn't hold it in 
any more, and I just let it out.  

    "Hey!" he laughed.  "You're shitting my cum out!  Holy shit!  
Well, now that your asshole is good and wet, it's time for the grand 
finale."

    Then I heard him fumble with some other stuff.  He slid a bedpan 
under the horse directly below my ass.  But that meant that it was 
also inches away from my face.  Then he inserted something small up 
my ass.  I heard water run, and felt a warm sensation up my ass.  Oh, 
cripe!  He's giving me an enema.  I felt a bloating sensation in my 
intestines as he filled my ass with warm soapy water.  After a few 
moments, I felt like I was going to burst and that I was going to 
poop that enema hose out of my ass like a rocket.

    Then I saw him holding something else up.  From my angle, it 
looked like a dildo.  A dildo up my ass won't be so bad, I suppose.  
No wait!  I was a butt plug.  No!  I have to shit so bad!  

    He removed the enema hose and immediately pressed the butt plug 
against my asshole.  I felt him press it against my asshole and slide 
it in.  Again, I didn't have enough strength to clamp my sphincter 
closed and he pushed it in deep.  It hurt for a moment when he pushed 
the wide part through my asshole, but then it just felt like the 
world's worst cramp.  

    I felt like I had to shit so bad, but as hard as I pushed, I 
couldn't.  Did you ever have to shit and could feel it right there 
but it wouldn't come out?  That's what this felt like, only with a 
vengeance!  I couldn't shit that butt plug out no matter how hard I 
pushed.  

    "I'll be back in a little while, love," Hungry told me, and 
walked out of the room.  

    The pain!  The pain!  The pain!  Oww!  The cramps were so intense 
and I never felt like I had to shit so bad in my whole life, but I 
couldn't and that made me feel nauseous.   

    Fortunately, he returned before I threw up.  He pulled the butt 
plug out and I gushed a fountain out of my asshole.

    It all rained into that bedpan under my face and I felt like I 
was going to puke all over again.  Thankfully, he pulled the dirty 
bedpan out and replaced it with a clean one.  I was still dripping 
out my asshole, but not so bad and it didn't make me feel like 
puking.  Though the sight was disgusting inches before my eyes.

    "Now that you're clean, we can get on with it, eh?"

    He had another object in his hand.  From my angle, it looked like 
a dildo.  A dildo up my ass won't be so bad, I suppose, and a lot 
better than a butt plug.

    I felt him press it against my asshole and slide it in.  Again, I 
didn't have enough strength to clamp my sphincter closed and he 
pushed it in deep.  But it wasn't just a dildo.  It was a vibrator 
that he turned on -- one of those good ones that made a low, bassy, 
powerful hum that echoed through my whole body.  What with that 
speculum spreading my pussy wide open, I couldn't help myself and I 
came again. 

    "Man, you're a hot bitch, Eve!  How many times did you come for 
me so far?"

    I didn't answer.  I wasn't counting.  He let me quiver and shake 
for a while as I came before turning the vibrator off.  

    He slowly slid it out, and then -- oh no!  I saw him fumble with 
another speculum.  I closed my eyes and felt something cold press 
against my asshole.  Again, he pushed it in easily.  I felt it go 
deep up my ass, deeper than his cock or the vibrator.  Then he 
started expanding it.  I felt it spread my asshole open -- a little 
at first, then it was stretched until it hurt.  

    "Gaaaak!" I let out a scream.

    "Really, love?  It hurts already?  I've hardly opened your 
asshole two centimeters, er, inches yet."  

    He continued fiddling with it and it hurt more and more.  

    " OWWWW!  OW!  OW!  OW!  GAAA!  OW!"  The pain was ten times 
worse than my pussy -- and he was still turning it.  

    "We still have a ways to go, love."

    "EEEEYOWWWW!  OWWWW!  EEAAAGGGHHH!  OWWWW!  YEOWWW!"

    "I've got your asshole open to about five centimeters, love.  
Almost there!"

    The pain was just so unbearable that I couldn't take it any more 
and I didn't have the energy even to scream any more.  

    "There," he said.  "now, just one more thing.

    Next I felt something warm and hard press against my wide-open 
asshole.  He was pushing his fist inside me.  Thankfully, if that's 
the right word, he slid the speculum out while leaving his fist up my 
ass.  That helped ease the pain a little.  Hell, it eased the pain a 
lot.  His fist didn't feel so bad, actually.  

    Then he started fucking my asshole with his fist, in and out, in 
and out.  But he pushed it in deeper with each thrust.  I could 
actually feel his fist pushing deeper up my intestine with each 
thrust.  It was painful, but felt more like cramps inside me than 
anything else.  

    "Oh man!" he said.  "This feels so bizarre.  I think I grabbed a 
lump of shit being formed."

    I didn't want to know that.  I don't know why, but I asked, "How 
deep are you in me?"

    "I'm nearly up to my elbow with that last thrust, love.  Feels 
good, eh?"

    "It doesn't feel so bad after a while."  I don't know why I said 
that either.  

    "I can't go any deeper, love.  Your intestine makes a ninety 
degree turn here."

    That was a relief.  I think.

    Then he slowly withdrew his arm from my asshole.  

    "Man, the suction inside your ass is incredible."

    It took about a minute for him to slowly pull it out.  It was 
such a relief when he finally removed his arm, his hand, and 
fingertips from my asshole.  

    Then I felt like I had to take the biggest shit of my life.  Here 
I was, bent over a sawhorse, with the worst cramps of my life in my 
intestines, that I just had to let the pressure out.  But instead of 
shit, I let out a fart -- one of those long hot quiet ones.  

    "Pee-youuu!  Love!  What was that?"

    He then left me there in a cloud of my own fart gas while he 
washed his arm in a sink along that counter.  

    He walked back to me and said, "I guess were finally done love."

    I was never so relieved in my life, but I was a little 
disappointed too, though I couldn't imagine why I felt that way.

    He slowly pulled the speculum out of my cunt.  What a relief that 
was!  Then he removed my nipple and clit clamps, reconnected the 
chain to my collar, and unshackled my wrists and ankles.  But my body 
cramped when I tried to stand upright again.  So I had to hobble, 
bent over.  Hungry stood there watching me un-cramp and stand upright 
again. 

    "Are you okay now, love?"

    "Yeah.  Does this mean I can leave now?"

    "First, let me ask you."

    "Ask me what?"

    "Are you a woman of your word -- a woman of honor?"

    "Well, yes.  Of course."

    "Then give me your word of honor that you won't go to the 
bobbies, er, police -- that our little tryst tonight will remain our 
private secret.  Is you will, then I shall drive you back to the 
campus.  There's a good chance that your husband will still be asleep 
and he won't suspect a thing."

    There was no way I would have reported this to the cops.  I 
didn't want _anyone_ to know about this.  

    "Yes, you have my word," I agreed.

    "Very good, love.  I'll return in a moment."

    He left the room and returned a moment later with my clothes 
neatly washed and folded and set them on the counter.  Then he 
removed my collar and chain and told me to get dressed.  

    "Can I have some privacy while I dress?"

    "After what we just did, you want privacy to dress?"

    "I guess not," I shrugged.  So I dressed as he stood there 
watching me.  

    He then escorted me out that door, into a small foyer with 
several other doors.  One door led to his garage where his car was 
parked.  He drove me down a long dirt driveway.  It was very early 
morning and still dark, so I didn't get a good look at his house, but 
the silhouette looked fairly large through the side-view mirror. 

    He turned onto a main road and we drove through the desert for a 
couple of hours until we finally reached the campus.  He let me out 
in the lot next to my car.

    "Good night, love," he said.  "See you in class next week?"

    "Yeah, sure," I answered.  The funny thing is that I was pretty 
sure I _would_ be back in class next week.

    - END -

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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