Teaching Kaci

I

I am—or was until very recently—a professor of English at a small but very expensive New England college. I had worked there for about 30 years—from the age of thirty—and while retirement was mandatory at the age of 65, I decided to take mine at 60 and devote what remained of my life to writing.

One of the first things I decided to write about was Kaci, a young lady who had enchanted my final year at the college.

One of my major courses wasFreshman Composition, which all freshmen were required to take since most first-year students performed abysmally in their writing.

The class was large, about 40 students, and nearly evenly divided between men and women. Each semester I was allowed to appoint an intern from the class who would assist me in the routine tasks of handing out and collecting papers, filing books, helping with research, etc. The job paid $7.50 an hour, and the hours were 2-5 five days a week, with some of the work to be done after class in my office.

The internship was open to anyone, but it was understood that I would appoint someone I expected to be an “A” student based on their high school record. Since the intern appointment was made early in the semester, I asked that each candidate submit a photo of themselves with their application, since I was not yet able to associate a name with a face.

Six persons applied for the position, five of them women and one man. Most of the applications were routine, and all of the candidates were acceptable. But I got a shock when I got to the last one.Kaci Anderson. She had included a photo of herself all right. Dark-haired, pretty and slender, she was sitting on the stump of a tree in some forest. And she was completely naked.

She was positioned sideways so that while the photo was revealing, it was not obscene in any way. But her head and enchanting smile was turned to the camera. I was trying to think of whom she looked like when I realized it was the movie actress Katie Holmes.

At the end of the next day’s class, I approached her. “Kaci? Will you stop in my office today when your classes are over?”

“All right,” she responded.

When she appeared in my office around 2:30, she was wearing the traditional student garb of jeans and in this case a gray sweatshirt with the name of the school on it. She was about five foot six with long and curly dark hair.

“Sit down,” I suggested.

She sat opposite my desk. I took out her application and her photo.

“This is one of the most unusual applications I have had for this job,” I said, looking at her photo. “I have never had someone submit a naked picture of themselves before”

“It was the only one I had,” she said shyly.

“Really? That’s a little hard to believe. And who took it?”

“I have a digital camera, and it has a self-timer, so I took it,” she replied.

“And you could not have taken a headshot instead?” I asked.

She did not reply.

I laughed. “I’ll tell you what. I admire your ingenuity and nerve. All of the six applicants for the job are acceptable, but none of them had your courage. So if you would like to have the job, I will appoint you to it.”

“I would like to have the job,” she said with a smile.

II

I did not find out until a week later when she was in my office filing books that there had been a method in the madness of Kaci’s nude photo.

“Professor Baxter, can I ask you something?” she asked, sitting opposite my desk.

“Of course.”

“I have a problem.”

“Which is?”

“Going to college is supposed to be a learning experience, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, I’m learning a lot academically, thanks to classes like yours, but I’m still in kindergarten when it comes to social relationships…and physical relationships.”

“What do you mean?”

“My father is a Methodist minister, and I was raised in a very strict household. The only interaction I was allowed to have with boys was at the church. As a result, I know NOTHING about dating or how men and women are supposed to relate to each other.”

“I imagine you may learn that at college.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

She looked embarrassed. “Because I’m eighteen years old, and I’m still a virgin. I don’t know anything! And I’m not going to admit to someone I date that I’m a virgin. It would make me look ridiculous—like a hick. Some boys have already asked me out, but I’ve turned every one down because of that.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

She hesitated.” Would you teach me?”

“Teach you what?”

“About sex.”

I laughed. “This is my last year at the college before retirement. I’ve been here thirty years, and in all that time I have never had a physical relationship with a student or ever exchanged grades for sex—although that offer has been made to me a half dozen times.”

She leaned forward. “Let me finish before you say no. I’ve done some research, so I know you’re a widower who lives alone in a nice old house near the river. So it would not be adultery on your part. And for obvious reasons, I know that you would not tell anyone—and neither would I. I think you’re a really nice person, and I trust you.”

I thought about it. Thiswasmy last year. Shewasvery beautiful—and avirginto boot. The temptation was hard to resist. So I did not.

“Okay, I’ll tell you what. As I said, this is my last year, so I’m going to do something that I’ve never done in the past. Since you’re obviously going to be an ‘A’ student, grades are not involved here. And since you’re very pretty, and I’m very flattered that you have asked me, I’m going to agree to it—and hope for the best.”

She smiled. “Great!”

“Exactly what is it you want me to teach you?”

“Everything! Petting, foreplay, oral sex, real sex—whatever.”

I laughed. “Sounds like this could be a full semester course.”

“If you want it to, that would be all right me. I want to learn everything, but I want to learn it from someone who would be gentle, considerate and kind—and I think that’s you.”

“I’m very flattered. So I take it, you would also want me to take your virginity?”

“Of course.”

Now IknewI could not resist her. “I’ve never had a virgin.”

“Really? Then this will be your first time too in a sense.” She smiled.

“Okay, this is what we’ll do,” I began. “Since you apparently already know where I live, you can come down to my house around seven p.m. this Friday. Probably no one will see you, but carry a couple of books just in case.”

“Okay.” She smiled. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“I think it’s I who should thank you. I’m very honored to be the one.”

III

I never had any doubt that I was doing the right thing. Kaci was of legal age, 18, I was not married, and after all, Iwasher teacher. Why should I not teach her things other than Freshman Composition? Especially since she asked? Despite the difference in our ages—42 years—I felt fully qualified to handle the job. Plus, I was looking forward to taking my first virgin.

My house was about 150 years old, very charming and comfortable, and I had it set for the occasional: a crackling fire was in the fireplace, the comfortable couch was before it, and a bottle of French Chardonnay and two glasses were on the table beside the couch.

Kaci arrived at the appointed time, 7 p.m. on Friday, and carrying books as I had suggested. She was wearing a blue denim dress, with brass buttons down the front, low-heeled white shoes, and a magenta-colored scarf around her neck. She looked beautiful.

“I didn’t wear any stockings or pantyhose,” she said, obviously nervous, “Is that all right?”

“It’s very all right. Like most men, I don’t like pantyhose….Come and sit by the fire.” I motioned her over. “And let me pour you some fine French white wine.”

She smiled. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be offering your students alcohol.”

“I’m not supposed to be taking their virginity either, so I guess a little wine is okay.” I poured a glass for her and for myself, sat down beside her and handed her the glass. “This is how I think it should go,” I said. “I think we should do this in stages so that you’re not hit with everything all in one night. So if it’s okay with you, we’ll leave your virginity intact for tonight and instead indulge in the kind of foreplay which might lead up to that. How does that sound?”

“It sounds wonderful to me,” she said, obviously relieved. “I was nervous about doing everything in the same night as well.”

I took a sip of the wine and moved closer to her. “Okay, this is what we’ll do. We’ll pretend that I’m the guy you’re out on a date with. You like this guy and are willing to fool around with him—but not go all the way. Does that sound okay?”

“Yes.”

I put the glass down on the table beside the couch. She drained hers before putting it down. I could see she was still nervous. “Okay, the first thing is that he will kiss you.” I leaned over, put my hand behind her head, pulled her to me and kissed her. It was a long and lingering kiss, and after a little prodding on my part, her tongue was moving around inside my mouth. I had not realized ahead of time that just kissing her would be one of the most erotic experiences I have ever had, and I could actually feel myself beginning to get an erection. Amazing.

“The next thing the guy is going to do is to try and caress you,” I said, as I reached my right hand over and fondled the area of her breast.

“I have to tell you in advance that they’re pretty small,” she said apologetically.

“I’m sure they’re the right size for your height and weight. What do you weigh—a hundred and ten?”

“A hundred and five,” she said…as I unbuttoned the top button of her dress.

“The next thing the guy is going to do is to try and undress you. How far you let him go is up to you. In this case, I would suggest you let him go pretty far.”

And she did. I unbuttoned all seven of the brass buttons, then unfastened the belt at her waist. I pushed the dress apart. She was wearing a matching and frilly white bra and panties, which were obviously new. I pulled her close and reached behind her back to unfasten her bra. “One trick you might want to remember is to get a bra which fastens in the front,” I said. “That way, whoever unfastens it will find it easier.”