[M]y [f]avorite assignment at university | 2016

Line break is where the action begins, skip to there if you aren't here for any of that set-up stuff. Enjoy! I certainly did...

I was only there in the interest of a participant observation research project for a class at university. My goal was to gather data on how alcohol affects behavior in a public, social environment. I had studied this Irish pub on various days and at various times for three weeks. I went for a few hours each day, had some bangers and mash, sipped a glenlivet 12 year neat (I didn't want to get too pricey coming in everyday on a college budget) and took my notes. I had seen the college kids flood in on the weekend, the regular working stiffs who showed up Monday through Friday just moments after five o'clock, and everyone in between. I watched all kinds of people come and go in their pursuit of getting white-girl wasted or laid or just a fun evening out with friends or even to drink away the stresses of their day. One old man stood out to me with his leathery grimace and bristling gray beard. He was there every day and stayed until closing, drinking a scotch neat sitting all alone, staring down into his drink for hours saying nothing to no one. I looked at my own glass and then around at all the happy friends and laughing couples. No time for those thoughts, I need to gather data.

I knew what to expect from Saturday at ten. Still I arrived later than intended, and all the best spots to perch myself were already taken. The only open seat I could find that didn't involve sharing a table in the noisy crowded tavern was at that terrible location right by the lift gate used to get in and out from behind the bar. Sitting by the bar was bad procedure because almost everyone would eventually head towards the bar and this increased the likelihood of them becoming aware of your observance. “I'll make do,” I decided as I watched the front door. Like every previous observation period, I waited for the next person to walk in to keep the sampling as random as I could, and noted that person as my subject for the night.

She walked through the double doors and I began recording my observations. As a researcher, I noted physical characteristics: height, weight, ethnicity, age, etc. She was about 5'3”, 110 lbs, with dark features and an olive complexion. Her jet black hair was straight and shoulder length and she had chestnut brown eyes with long lush lashes. As a horny college-age male I mentally noted other features such as her slim waist that curved out into a nice round ass or the two perky handfuls that looked like they wanted to jump out of the plunging neckline of her taut black dress. I watched her, noting how she sipped her mixed drink cautiously, licking her lips between each gulp. She texted for awhile looking quite lonely sitting at her table all by herself (how she managed to find one I'll never know), but then some of her friends arrived. Her drinking pace accelerated then and she began to smile much more. Soon she reached the end of her glass. When she headed towards the bar to get another, towards me, she caught me watching her and taking notes. She got her second cocktail, then came over to me.

I thought, “Damn it, guess I'll have to start over tonight. Well, at least I've only lost an hour.”

She walked up hips swaying through the crowd, and I gave her my friendliest smile. She raised an eyebrow and smirked as she wordlessly motioned me to follow. I did. We returned to her table where her friends awaited.

"What were you doing?" she questioned curiously. I explained my study, as the professor said we must when noticed by our subjects.

"Clever way to go to the bar every day for a whole semester," she mused as her friends laughed and whispered to themselves.

"I thought so," I replied, “I've never been much of a bar-goer. It's interesting to observe the patrons.”

"So you were studying me tonight, huh? Well, let's see what you've got on me," my subject said reaching for my notes. I handed them over and she read through them. That smirk returned as she looked up and said, "Asian, early twenties?" Another laugh from her friends. Of course she was only interested in the physical estimations.

“Have I been mistaken?” I prompted.

“I'm half Sicilian half Columbian,” she explained.

“Well go on, what else did I miss?” I prodded.

“How old exactly would you guess?” she questioned.

“Hmm, Twenty-two? Twenty-three?” I guessed honestly. She shook her head to the right and left, smile widening.

“You're not underage are you? You have to be Twenty-one or older to be in here, you know,” I teased.

“Try Thirty-one, you flirt,” she said seeming to have forgotten her friends now as she slapped the notepad on my chest, “I want you to have accurate information for your assignment. I'm Anastasia.” I shook her hand and gave her my name as well.

She offered me a seat so I sat next to her and ordered a second drink. Scotch neat, of course. I could falsify one night's worth of notes I convinced myself. We drank and chatted for a long while, and I was delighted to find she was a bit of a nerd like me. We talked about slow zombies versus rage zombies and how Diablo III was such a disappointment compared to the second one. We arm wrestled at her insistence and I won a tougher fought battle than I expected, but she got me in a thumb war so we concluded that we were pretty evenly matched. Her friends left at some point, but we barely noticed. I got up to use the restroom later, and when I came back Anastasia was writing on my notes.

“What are you doing,” I asked as she continued to write for a moment.

“Just making some observations,” she said casually before handing me the pad, “What do you think? Pretty spot on?”

Her flowing script that was as delicately curvy as she was herself read, “Five foot and nine inches, 160ish lbs, dark hair and eyes, scruffy looking nerf herder, smiles like a scoundrel, 100% probability of getting laid tonight if he plays his cards right.” I looked up and gave the only appropriate response:

An indignant, “Who's scruffy looking?”

She gave a short laugh, then stood up and put a hand to my cheek, brushing against my stubble. She then ran her other hand back through my hair; her fingertips running over my scalp was electrifying. “There...fixed it...” Anastasia said, trailing off in a sultry tone. Our eyes were locked and we just stood there looking at one another, our faces inches apart.

I leaned in and kissed her softly feeling her delicate lips press back against mine. One hand on her hip and the other on the back of her head, silky dark hair between my fingers, I pulled her in closer. We both knew it was time to go. She wordlessly headed for the door, pulling me along. I took one last look back at the bar, and sure enough spotted the old man sitting alone with his sad drink. I had no intention of looking back on tonight with regret.

Her place was only a few blocks away so we walked there as fast as possible. She couldn't get the door open fast enough as I grabbed her by the hips and pressed myself against her from behind. I kissed and bit her on the neck and ears as Anastasia finally got the door opened with a moan of relief. I can't really remember her place very well. It was dark, I was intoxicated, and I didn't really care, but we did make it to the bedroom. Once inside we continued to kiss passionately as I slid a hand up the front of her tight black dress. I rubbed her panties gently as I kissed down her neck to her exquisite cleavage.

Anastasia undid my belt and pants as I threw off my shirt, but I interrupted by spinning her around and bending her over the bed. I pulled up her dress to reveal her gorgeous ass. I groped a handful and then spanked it; she jumped with a breathy gasp. Then I pulled her tiny red panties down, and a trail of shimmering wetness followed. Lifting Anastasia's perfect round ass to reveal her tight little shaved hole, I then buried my face into her dripping pussy, licking her slowly but firmly. Her gasps grew louder and more frequent as my tongue glided around her clit, circling just beyond that sweetest point. She moaned as I closed in, increasing pressure and speed of my rhythmic lapping at the holiest of holies. I could see after several minutes her sheets bunching in a clenched fist as this evening's subject began to shake in an orgasm that ran through her whole body, quivering from curled toes to her trembling barely audible sighs.

She continued to twitch in ecstasy as I pulled her dress completely off, undid her bra, and rolled her on her back. I began to lick and suck her small but perky breasts, nibbling at the nipples lightly. Anastasia regained her composure when the shaking in her legs subsided, and she finished undoing my zipper to drop my pants and underwear, finally fully unleashing my throbbing cock. I pushed into her, inch by inch, gliding into her wetness easily until she was full of me. Grinding my hips against her in circular motions, gripping her by the hips with her legs hanging over each arm, her high-heels bouncing in the air, I fucked Anastasia with animal lust. She told me later that I was grunting like a savage beast as I pounded her. She began to come again and so did I. I could feel my seed filling her with warmth, pumping out in ecstatic bursts as she clamped down on me in her own spasms of joy.

Pulsing inside her for several minutes, we kissed and caressed each other everywhere we could reach from our current position. Anastasia pushed me off of her gently so that I was once again standing at the edge of the bed. She spun her body around and rolled onto her stomach, those black high-heels in the air above her ass. My cock stood hard as granite inches from her face, dripping with the mingled fluids of our orgasms. She took my dick into her mouth cautiously at first, licking her lips between each taste. Then suddenly she forced it down her throat with a gulping sigh. I felt her nose press up against my pubic bone, exhaling warm air rapidly as she swallowed all of me. She sucked on my cock, her tongue teasing the underside as my glans rubbed against the back of her throat. I ran a hand through her shimmering hair as she looked up at me, pleased with herself at the way she made me squirm and moan. She winked, then backed off a bit to begin gliding her lips up and down my shaft. I thrust gently as she picked up the pace, reaching over her to get a handful of her magnificent ass. There really is no feeling quite like being deep in a nigh-stranger's throat as you fondle their firm round ass. I came again as she sucked me with increasing fervor. Ropes of cum coated the back of her throat as I held her ass in my throes of passion. Anastasia gulped down my seed greedily.

We both rested for a few moments looking up at her ceiling, talking about the Walking Dead and what we thought might happen (though I already knew likely since I had read the comics, so I mostly just listened to her ideas and only talked about things involving non-comic characters like Daryl or Beth). She got up a few minutes later and brought me a glass of water. After I drank it she said I had better get dressed and get going...her boyfriend would be home sometime in the early morning from some business trip. Thinking she was joking at first I laughed, but her lack of eye contact now along with the way she bit her lip made it clear to me she was serious. I got my clothes on and now mostly sober headed back to my car, a bit confused on how I felt about what transpired. We lived far apart anyhow, so I never had any intention of anything longterm with this older woman anyhow, but I still felt a bit bewildered.

Although I never see Anastasia anymore, we remain “facebook” friends to this day. She likes all my posts and pictures and we never talk, that is. As for the paper...my professor and TA couldn't seem to comprehend why I was smiling about a B+ as it was my lowest mark in the class. I just told them simply, that I enjoyed this assignment far more than the rest, and I certainly would never forget it.