Sign the fucking statement and thank the Dean you’re not facing prostitution charges. If it wouldn’t look like prostitution, I’d say blow jobs a...l around were in order.” The Dean looked at me strangely. “What’s your last name, Mark?” I told him, and he wrote something on a notepad. Maybe he wasn’t thinking of Bozo. They signed, we left. Sylvia called me. There was a show in her dorm that night. Only dorm residents and one guest per girl, if approved by the senior resident, were invited. I was. Just commands.But as the week went on, the fantasies in her head ran away with her. Could she maybe live it out? On Friday, she was still torn, so she drove to his neighborhood early and looked at his house. It looked like a nice suburban house, hardly noteworthy. There was no car in the driveway, but there was an attached garage. The lights were on downstairs. As 8 PM approached, she'd decided that she would regret it if she passed up the chance, so at 8 PM on the dot, she walked through his. My parents had decided ice cream was a good idea but dairy had never been kind to me so I chose an ice pop instead and while I was eating it he caught my eye. He was stunning, over six feet tall with wide shoulders and what looked like hard muscles all over his topless chest. I sat all sense absent and licking the ice pop, running my tongue around it before taking it in my mouth when he looked up and his dark brown eyes met my sky blue eyes. He smiled at me and I decided to put on a show for. "Man, you must have some stories to tell." Uh, not to disrupt the conversation, but what are you doing here waiting for us? No one in Charlotte heard our broadcasts, and Atlanta is even farther away." Oh, we're familiar with you from the radio." Jody spoke as she wrapped the rappelling cords around her arm with a practiced hand. "We've been hearing about you for weeks now. We feel we know you and your group personally, but we can't pick up your broadcasts either." Wait, you've never heard our.