When he opened the class to discuss any topic, I asked, "How does a writer develop lyrical rhythm?"Professor McWilliams grinned. "Part gift and a lot ...of sweat. It helps to read writers who are lyrically gifted."After class, he said, "A thoughtful question. Colonel is rarely wrong about someone. It's a pleasure to have a thoughtful student in a freshman class."I went back to the fraternity house before I went to the airfield. Colonel left a note to call tri-delt for Judy Stokes. I remembered. Shouldn’t take more than an hour or two.”Mike kind of shifted from one foot to the other. He looked away when he said this and I figured something was bothering him.“Nah. I’m kind of tired from this morning. Think I might stay here this afternoon.”As far as I knew Mike wasn’t sick, and he was in as good a shape as I was, so what was the deal? I figured I’d let it go for now.“OK. I still feel like going, so I’ll see you later.”I didn’t think much more about it. With a wave to Professor Bertolli,. .."I led her by the arm, but was carrying nearly all her weight by the time we got to a door I could unlock.I sat her on the bed and pulled off her boots. I unfastened her jeans and unbuttoned most of her shirt. I pulled a sheet over her. She was out light a light. If it was six beers, her bladder would wake her soon.I looked around and saw that she'd hung her dress and my suit before becoming the belle of the bar. I turned out the light and went back to the party. The half-bottle was still. " This" turned out to be a highly unusual gag, with the mouthpiececonsisting of a lengthy plastic cock. This was fed into my mouth andthen fastened in place, its end well into my throat. I couldn't helpgagging slightly.Then I was left alone again for a while, desperately trying to withstandthe relentless tide of stimulation to my back passage, as well as theconstant tug on my new breasts. Finally, Joanna - or at least I assumedit was her from the costume - released me from the penis-shaped.