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DISCLAIMER: one of the main characters in this story has a stutter. Please be respectful in the comments as it is a manifestation of social anxiety and/or symptom of various other neurodivergence. Your "jokes" could end up hurting someone.

I shouldn't have listened to Oli when he suggested we take this class

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I shouldn't have listened to Oli when he suggested we take this class. But I could tell that his jock brain thought I was too pussy to take a class like this one, so I signed up impulsively. 

He was right. 

I was way in over my head.

I feel like in order to fully benefit from a course called Exploration of Sexual Identities you have to actually have one. Me? 

I'm a fucking dud battery in a junk drawer. My dick has never been anywhere near pussy, unless you count dancing with my cousin at prom (against my will, mind you).

Oliver knows this. So he mocked me while we were picking our courses. 

Bet you'd bust before Ms. Carter  finishes presenting the syllabus.

So I added it to course shopping cart just to spite him. Thing was, I didn't think it would matter whether I got in or not. I was on the waiting list for a mandatory course that all freshmen are required to take. I was on the top of said list, so I truly thought that once I got in, I would have no choice but to drop the sex class to make room in my schedule. Oli couldn't give me shit for that.

But no, the universe never works in my favor. 

I mean, the universe didn't give me an ounce of sex appeal, so why would it bother doing me a favor as simple as getting me into a required class?

The first few classes were fine. We learned basic terms and explored the multiple dimensions of sexual identity. 

But there's nothing like watching porn in a class full of 120 students.

And the scene projected across the entire wall wasn't some reproductive demonstration of missionary coitus.

No, it was a compilation of people fucking.

I say fucking because what the professor showed us on the screen wasn't just sex. It was scene after scene of bodies being depicted mid ecstasy.

My jaw was to the floor as I watched a gorgeous raven haired woman getting railed by a giant. Seconds later, the same woman was pushing a blonde's head against the carpet as she drilled into her pussy with a strap-on. Minutes after that, two men were double stuffing a woman who looked like a fairie.

I could almost hear the growing erections of every man in the room, and I was so thankful for the small collapsable tray table hiding my dick from view.

That was last week, and it was Ms. Carter's swift introduction to our newest topic.

Kink and Fetish Identities.

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