I was a college student a few years back and let me tell you, college was not easy. It was rough, I mean, I had great grades in high school. In fact, I didn’t even have to study and I would still rock an A. That’s the kind of high school I went to.
I’m not saying that all my classmates were dumb. I’m not saying that the school that I went to had low standards, but I just knew how the system worked. I knew the kind of information my high school teachers were looking for during exams. This is why I was able to rock great grades consistently through high school.
In fact, I only had one B and it was very disappointing. Everything else was an A. People were patting me on the back. People thought that I was going places in life and college would be a breeze and the worst thing happened: I took them seriously. That’s right, I let all those things get to my head and I thought that my shit didn’t stink and college would be a pushover. Not surprisingly, I punched way above my weight class and applied to this Ivy League school.
Part of me thought that it was not going to happen. Part of me thought that there was no way in hell they would admit me because they usually admit people with straight A’s and who did all sorts of extra-curricular shit in their community. However, I got this fat envelope in the mail and sure enough, I got into this Ivy League school. I was stoked. My parents were stoked. Of course, nobody was stoked about the fact that a 4-year degree from that school costs over $400,000, but thankfully I did get some scholarships.
So, I was all stoked going to school and boy, college hit me like a ton of bricks. During my first week, all I did was hang out with my dorm mates smoking weed and not going to class. All we thought about was just trying to get pussy and getting high, and then this week dragged on to eight weeks and then dragged to a semester. Sure enough, when I looked at my grades I realized I was going to get expelled if I didn’t get my shit together.
Forget about maintaining my scholarships. I can kiss that shit goodbye. I was barely hanging on to school. I just want to stay in school, so the dean sent me to a special tutorial program where basically students were given one last chance. I was a mess, I mean, I basically just was shitting my pants and I was a nervous wreck. I thought that this was the end and that nobody can fucking turn me around and the school was just a complete, total misery to me.
That’s where I met Rebecca. Rebecca was a tutor there and she basically was my overall tutor. I didn’t really need much help with Math and Science and all that shit because I got that shit on lock. English, Humanities, History, that is the kind of stuff that was really puzzling to me because it required a certain type of attention. If it’s anything having to with numbers, I can knock that shit out of the park.
So, she was trying to tutor me but basically I was just too fixated on her big tits. She’s had like this huge 38 DD tits. I mean, it’s like having an extra pair of eyes looking at you while you’re trying to look at her straight in the eyes and pay attention to whatever the fuck she was saying. So, it was really hard to concentrate, but she was able to get me to think differently about English. Since I tend to look at things in terms of relationships and spatial structures, she had me look at stories, plot lines, and themes in terms of mathematical equations.
This really blew my mind because Rebecca was the first woman that actually got how I was thinking. She took the time to learn how I thought and reworked the material that I was struggling with into a form that I could understand. We became really good friends and she was this type of chick that really had a low self-esteem. She was kind of plump, I mean, having big tits tends to make any kind of woman look fat, but she was plump and she also was more comfortable with words than with people. I, on the other hand, love people. I love hanging out with people, I love meeting new people and I love doing stuff with them.
So, there was kind of a weird spark between her and me until one time, we were talking about Marcel Proust and her hand slipped and got to my knee and I just saw her going down on my cock. After I fucked her three times and I got her to orgasm three times back to back, we both knew we were into something special. That’s the one free sex hookup that really rocked my life because it helped me understand that there are certain people out there that have the skill of working with how people thought. They knew how to rephrase and reorganize things for people to understand them better.
She was truly the best teacher and she helped me learn more about myself, about the world. She was amazing. She’s now a college professor and based several thousand miles away from me, but we still get in touch and I really can’t downplay the importance of a sex hook up. Whether you’re hooking up with an anonymous person or you’re hooking up with somebody that you thought you would never hook up with because you’re never physically attracted to that person, don’t write the idea of a sex hook up off of your mind. It might just blow your mind, open a lot of doors and help you understand yourself better at the very least. That is exactly what happened with Rebecca and me.