A young woman upon matriculation was expected to be familiar with the classics, some mathematics, at least a foreign language or two (I myself am perf...ectly fluent in French, quite conversant with Latin, and at least cognizant of Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese), and of course possess the varied requirements of etiquette and decorum necessary to make one’s way in society. However, it was the unofficial curriculum that made a graduate a rather desirable and marriageable commodity!Mrs. Pembleton. He liked to call himself ‘Primetime’ after some old football player by the name of Dion Sanders or somebody. Pardon my French, but it was so fucking annoying to walk around the school and hear everybody call Marcus “Priiiiimetime”, exaggerating and emphasizing the word every single time. It was just my luck that I had multiple classes with him every year, and senior year was brutal. In class, he would prattle on about his conquests and brag about his ability to pull just about any girl. Marcus. I put on a robe and opened it, there was Mike Jr standing. I let him in and offered him a drink, and told him to take a seat. While I was mixing the drinks he came up behind me and hugged me. He laid his head on my shoulder and slipped a hand into the robe and rubbed my chest. I told him not to start something he didn't want to finish. He reached down and untied the belt on my robe. I shook a little allowing the robe to open, and handed him a glass. He took his drink and sat on the bed, Making. I thought I was going to get blown by this guy as well, a chance to compare actions perhaps. He knelt in front of me and started to lick the length of my throbbing cock, he then turned me round and spread the cheeks of my arse. I thought the blowjob I had received from his friend was the best thing that had happened to me, until now. I felt his warm breath on my puckered rosebud, and then I almost blew my load as his tongue licked the length of my arse crack. He sucked around my hole and then.