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Copyright © PennameWombat May 2021

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This story takes place in the same universe as my original Geek Pride entry a couple of years ago, “You Promised Me Geeks.” Familiarity with that tale and its direct sequels isn’t necessary to enjoy this story in full, but I’d be quite happy if this one inspired you to explore those tales.

This is a world of accountants, math whizzes, computer programmers, graduate students and Associate Deans of Student Services. Not to mention the verdant campus savanna where virgins roam in great herds and the predators who prey on them.

Tags: Geek Pride, Anal Sex, College, Exhibitionist, First Time, Older woman, Public Sex, Sci-fi, Threesomes, Virgin


Calculus 111 & 118

“Good morning, I’m Tracy Turnbull.”

The reaction of the twenty-five undergraduates sitting at desks had mostly been polite confusion when she’d walked into the classroom. It was on the 2nd floor of the Widtsoe Building that was part of the original 19th century campus along President’s Circle and she’d spent the same time in this building, six years, as she’d ever spent in a house as her parents had moved more than once during her childhood. Her escape from the dorms after her junior year and two apartments since then had kept up the streak. Her life was always in transition.

Except for this building.

“I’m a third-year doctoral student here,” Tracy continued, “and I guess you’re all wondering where Darren is.”

She started at the windows in the exterior wall to her right and scanned to her left. Amongst the sea of confused faces she saw a few grimmer expressions. Her mouth was a tight line for a moment.

“For those who haven’t heard, Darren and three other grad students were in a bad car accident,” she said as she continued to scan, those formerly with grim expressions nodded and went grimmer and the formerly confused expressions morphed to shock, “he and the others are in serious condition in the hospital.”

And they made my hunting plans for the quarter even harder, she didn’t add.

She went silent to let the initial news sink in. As she opened her mouth to speak a quartet in the last two rows toward the left wall caught her eye. They weren’t in the back two rows but it so happened no one sat behind them, likely to avoid the possible claustrophobia of being stuck in a back corner. They were part of the grim to grimmer crew that she assumed had heard about the accident, it had been on the local news but had passed quickly, unlike news reports about cute chicks who get kidnapped during drug deals after being attacked by local gangsters who end up brain dead. Sigh. She locked their images in her brain and forced herself back on script.

“All of them will live but they’re all facing extensive stays in the hospital,” and now for the coup de grâce, “so if anyone else plans to get drunk and go driving, might I recommend you reconsider.”

The two lead boys in the quartet weren’t that unusual but there was something familiar about both but she couldn’t quite work it out. The boy closest to the wall was maybe as tall as Aron but there the comparison ended. His skin moderately tanned but his round face belied a slightly chunky build and his head was covered by light brown hair that bordered on curly and long enough to cover his ears. That said, even with the black-framed glasses he was rather cute and her sixth sense screamed ‘innocent’ in full volume. The boy next to him was shorter, didn’t seem much taller than she was but his skin was closer to Aron’s smooth latte color and he was almost as good looking as her best friend’s brother with nicely trimmed dark hair. And his face also showed a lack of guile that she’d trained herself to find.

“So our teaching assistant crew is suddenly stretched thin,” Tracy said, “and you all drew the short straw to get me.”

She paused and hoped the bit of self-deprecation would lighten the mood.

But it was the two girls behind them that really locked her gaze. Behind the handsome dark boy was a black girl, her glasses almost identical to the boy in front and to her right. Despite some diligent efforts the Uni still had few black students. And Math wasn’t a popular major with the ones that did attend so Tracy was intrigued by her presence. Not to mention that she was cute and her mid-thigh shorts and a loose tee seemed to indicate a slender figure but one beyond Tracy’s own. Her dark hair was in a bob cut that like Tracy’s longer cut fell just past the edge of her left eye.

And then the other. Her hair that flowed over her shoulders and to the small of her back had thin stripes of what must be half şişli escort of the colors from the entire Sherwin-Williams paint catalog mixed in with dark brown sections! Unless those were natural and the brown was the addition. How long had that taken? It brought back a memory, was this simple coincidence? Or more?

Polychrome wasn’t short, seemed about as tall as the boy seated in front of her and with what seemed to be a smoking hot body. At least that described her legs that had light and smooth but not glowingly pale skin and were almost entirely exposed as she sat with her left leg crossed over her right in as short a miniskirt as Tracy was used to seeing on campus, the first week of October not letting go of summer and if that’s what the girl would keep wearing long may the heat continue. Tracy tried to ignore the sudden tingle between her own legs and the goddess that forced that tingle drove the thought that the skirt’s length was in Devil Girl territory. Did she wear it commando like Devil Girl wore hers? Was her pubic hair the same wild cacophony of colors as the hair on her head? Did she have pubic hair? Did she shave like Asha?

‘Stop it!’ Tracy’s brain screamed and tried to wrest control of her pussy from the goddess! A pussy that was damp. But at least there were panties between it and her jeans. She took a slow breath.

The ends of those long, lovely legs were in black high top sneakers that contrasted to the white mini. Her t-shirt was snug and unless Tracy had gone blind the girl had no bra on and while the black girl’s breasts were a notch above Tracy’s the set highlighted by the polychromatic hair was at least a couple of sizes above those. Tracy had quietly noticed as she’d entered that plenty of the other mostly young male students had been turned in the direction of both of them. Despite her killer figure just like the black girl both faces hit her sixth sense as had those of the two boys in front of them.

Stupid ass Darren. There was more and better prey in this room than she’d seen in a while. And with the slim pickings over the summer she’d come to understand what Asha meant by hunger.

But that ear. The one she saw through colorful hair on the girl’s left side was definitely pointed! And that wasn’t all. There was something off about her eyes. Tracy intentionally turned and took a couple of steps away from the quartet and then slowly back as she scanned her section.

“I haven’t spoken to Darren, well, no one has as he’s in a coma,” Tracy said with a shrug, “but I take it he previewed the syllabus and the assignments and exams?”

She scanned the room but lingered again on the quartet. Multiple students nodded and she heard a few ‘yups.’ Good. She’d met Darren, and the other incoming grad students, in the week of orientation before the quarter. He’d seemed competent if not the second coming of John Nash. Of course, she wasn’t that either!

“Good. We’ll jump into the first programming assignment in a moment, but,” she set her notebook on the desk and held up a clipboard, “I want to do a quick roll so I can put names to faces and if you prefer to be called by a middle name or whatever you can tell me. We won’t make a habit of it, this isn’t high school. We trust you.”

“You don’t know us very well, do you?” It was a solidly-built young man just to the right of center in the third row back, sandy hair cut short. She joined the ripple of laughter then brushed her hair back and tilted her head in a way she knew emphasized the lopsided aspect of her face. She noticed her two ‘target’ boys to the far left both smiled at that while a few other expressions showed the surprise she was used to. She tapped the clipboard.

“And your name is?”

“Brent Singleton,” he said, his tone wasn’t a challenge but he was definitely cocky.

“Ok, Brent,” she said as she made a show of unlatching the pen from the clip and making a mark near the bottom of the paper, “I’ll make sure you get two assignments this week. Just to keep you focused.”

“Hey, I still have frats to visit! They need me, just haven’t all figured it out yet to start the bidding war.”

“You’d be a better fit in a sorority,” a blond guy at the far right said.

“Later, children,” Tracy used what Asha called her ‘Doom’ voice to forestall Brent’s reply.

“Please don’t dissolve our brains, Professor,” the blond said to mass confusion and Tracy’s surprised silence but she noticed the quartet all smiled softly at the comment. She smiled at the blond and poised her pen at the clipboard.

“And your name? So I can inform your next of kin should you suffer an untimely stroke?”

“Bottom of the list. Kenny Zabriskie, but call me Zee,” he said, his smile had softened and he kept his voice level but their eyes locked for a moment. Not a name she recognized but his comment indicated he was part of a coterie that was thankfully shrinking rapidly. More interesting was that ‘her’ quartet were part of it despite seeming to have little else in common with this jock. It wasn’t just her crotch that had a dangerous interest in those four.

“Okay, Zee, and I’m not a professor. Yet. Just your run of the mill poorly paid grad student.”

“But you’re good with guns too,” Zee said and winked to Tracy’s glare. Her limited time to check out the students when this assignment was dumped on her indicated just over half were incoming freshmen. This one didn’t seem so and she suspected he might be her age.

“That’s enough… Zee,” she glared, he held her eyes for a moment before he looked down and nodded slightly, she nodded and looked up, “now, William Albert.”

“Here,” answered a cute boy with reddish-brown hair, she nodded.

“Javier Alcides,” the dark handsome boy member of her quartet shyly raised his hand.

Gears engaged in Tracy’s brain but she nodded and her smile offered warmth without conscious thought.

“Martin Amis,” she said. A tall and thin young man with sandy brown hair and seated to her right and near the back raised his hand. She nodded.

“Donald Anthony,” she said and the cute boy in his glasses and next to the wall raised his hand, Tracy’s smile stayed warm and a second gear engaged.

“Don,” he said, his voice a shy baritone.

“No,” Polychrome’s voice behind him was deeper than a contralto that like with her skirt reminded Tracy of Devil Girl, but with vocal cords that hadn’t been attacked by sixty grit sandpaper, “he’s called Dark Star.”

Don, Dark Star, grunted and twisted quickly and mouthed what Tracy thought was a ‘no’ but the girl put her hand on his shoulder and Tracy’s crotch reacted anew to that girl’s smile. Javier and the black girl laughed lightly. Had they all known each other before the Uni? Their body language indicated togetherness but this was only the second Tuesday of the quarter.

‘Back to sleep, idiot pussy,’ Tracy’s brain screamed at it again. It responded with tingled wetness, its version of sticking out its tongue, with the encouragement of the goddess.

“Okay, you’re Dark Star,” Tracy said hoarsely as she scribbled quickly to force truces, “now–“

The door to the room didn’t so much fly open as it seemed to dissolve. Tracy’s head turned ninety degrees and almost as one the students made confused sounds as a red headed whirlwind engulfed their TA. A couple of ‘whoops’ before Tracy was released.

“I finally found you,” a purred soprano well-trained in seduction said as a taller woman about Tracy’s age spun to face the students with her right arm across Tracy’s shoulders, “this sweet little TA of yours is my best friend.”

“Asha…,” Tracy started, “kinda busy–“

“Of course you are. Won’t be a minute,” Asha said, “I just wanted to tell all of these math students about the wonders of Accounting.”

“We don’t have ti–,” Tracy tried but knew this was the one person on whom her Doom voice was truly ineffective. Asha kissed the petite brunette’s cheek and strutted in front of students, most of whom stared with gaped mouths.

“I know you’re all in Calculus One,” Asha purred as she ensured her posture emphasised her impressive chest, “and this cute little math genius is teaching you Numerical Methods to go along. And she’ll make sure you all pass.”

Asha beamed at Tracy before she scanned the audience and as Tracy had done she paused when she found the quartet. Tracy stepped forward and read her friend’s expression that cycled through confusion to lust to hunger.

‘You bitch, not them…,’ Tracy meant to say but Asha moved her gaze and continued.

“You, what’s your name?” She purred and strode and put her hands on his desk and leaned forward.

‘Him, fine, you slut,’ Tracy had a grim smile.

“Br… Brent,” he slurred slightly as he drooled a bit and his eyes seemed about to pop out of his head, his earlier confidence shaken.

Tracy understood. The most awesome set of double-dees were less than a foot from his face. Asha had chosen a bra that employed heretofore unknown feats of engineering that forced her breasts into perfectly smooth globes that exposed every bit of latte colored skin that wasn’t areola or nipple and her tight short-sleeved blouse followed its contours. His view was held by a force stronger than a black hole’s gravity and not even the beautiful face surrounded by crimson red hair could move it. Nor could long legs in six-inch heels, sheer stockings and a knee-length skirt with a slit that allowed the bare top half of a perfect thigh to be exposed.

“Well, Brent,” Asha’s purr continued as she straightened and caressed his cheek before she turned and looked at Tracy, “just remember Tracy’s real name is Hand Smasher. And she’s good at it. So you better study hard. All of you!”

Asha winked and Tracy glared. Brent was silent because his brain had probably lost its supply of blood.

“But the rest of you,” she walked quickly and turned toward the quartet before she looked across the room, “check out Accounting. It pays MUCH better than Math. And it’s lots more fun than Engineering. And everyone in Computer Science is a weirdo! And Physics? No one SANE goes into Physics! Especially Astrophysics, total blazing loonies there! And, as you’ll notice, accountants wear nicer clothes!”

“Asha,” Tracy said but no one heard her. Asha stood so her right thigh was again exposed and this time a garter strap was in view. She put a hand on the black girl’s and Polychrome’s cheeks.

“You two are welcome to come spend a day with me to see how fun Accounting is. What are your names?”

“D… Dani. Danielle Henderson,” the black girl managed as her eyes blinked behind her glasses. But her tongue ran quickly across her top lip. Asha beamed and turned.

“Umbra Flowerday,” Polychrome said, she put her left hand on Asha’s forearm and held the hand against her cheek, “are you the Pirate Queen?”

Tracy’s breath caught. Who the hell is this girl? Then she noticed the two boys who were turned in their seats to give them prime views of Asha’s round ass both nod before they glanced quickly at Tracy. Umbra released the arm and Asha put her fingers under the girl’s chin and quickly leaned over and kissed her on the lips. Then she stood and backed up.

“I AM the Pirate Queen! Asha Washington! Umbra, Dani, bring these two lovely boys with you on your Accounting day,” she reached through the slit of her skirt and pulled a business card from the top of her stocking and handed it to the black girl, “here’s my number. Don’t lose it!”

She quickly touched Dark Star’s and Javier’s cheeks and strode back to the front of the room and turned to face the students.

“Make sure your TA invites you all to our Halloween party,” Asha said to the room with a wave and a cheer from most of the students, “we still have our lunch date later, Tracy?”

Asha winked so everyone could see her. Tracy’s mouth worked but she couldn’t summon her voice so she nodded.

‘Why the hell not? Someone needed an ass kicking!’ she managed to not say aloud.

Asha grinned then waved again and strutted out of the room and pulled the door closed.

“Woo hoo,” Zee said, “now THAT will be one hell of a party, teach!”

A few laughs and cheers as Tracy growled in her throat and closed her eyes and took a slow breath. Asha’s interruption was bad enough, but that she’d made clear her intentions on the quartet was worse. And she wouldn’t have done that if she hadn’t confirmed they were… prey.

“All right,” Tracy said firmly, “calm down. Now, Amit Bakshi, “dark eyes blinked before he registered his name and raised his hand, “Sheryl …”

“And, finally, I think we already know you’re here, twenty-sixth letter of the alphabet,” Tracy said as she looked at the grinning young man. Well, man. She’d have to check, he didn’t seem any younger than she was and this was her seventh year at the Uni. And he was too composed, he’d stared at Asha, he was apparently a straight male after all, but he hadn’t seemed as overwhelmed as the others. As to this Umbra Flowerday and her friends…

“Let’s do some real work,” Tracy set the clipboard down on the desk and flipped open her notebook, “if anyone didn’t receive an email on your student account with specifics for the math systems we’ll be using, stay after class, I have printouts and I’ll get your names and check with the admins.”

A couple of students lifted their hands and Tracy acknowledged them.

“Details are in there as well for the first assignment, but I’ll summarise it and handle any questions.”

She turned to the new whiteboard. These were being slowly installed across campus, changes from the chalk that had been her life since she’d been five years old. Suddenly the door opened again, but more deliberately than before.

“Asha, get ou…,” Tracy’s voice froze.

It was an older woman with dirty blonde hair, about the same height as the previous interruption. Tracy was tired of her brain not quite making connections, but it was happening again.

“Sorry, I’m not Asha,” the woman’s tone seemed amused.

The new arrival’s heels were only a touch shorter than Asha’s and her skirt was a similar length but with a shorter slit. But her legs and figure seemed almost as impressive, her fitted blouse attested to a considerable bust but her unbuttoned blazer softened the view. A smile flitted across the face before her expression returned to neutral friendliness.

“Can I hel…,” Tracy said just as a cog in her brain fell into place, “can I help you Dr. Lynch?”

Tracy had only met this woman a couple of times and had seen her a few more. But something was off. Her hair, it was loose, it had always been in a bun.

“Thank you, Ms. Turnbull, I apologise for the interruption,” she smiled at Tracy, “won’t be a minute.”

As had Tracy and Asha she surveyed students who were again confused.

“I’m Dr. Lydia Lynch, I’m the Associate Dean for student services,” the woman’s mellifluous voice conveyed warmth but something else although Tracy couldn’t read it, “I’ve always been hidden in my office but I’m trying something new and getting in front of the freshmen classes.”

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