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Well, my life is in shambles now. I had a loving wife whom I adored,
and was in my final year of my master's studies. It all started with an
assignment in my English class. Our professor was a very strange person.
She had some weird sense of humor, and was always pushing us to write about
things that made us very uncomfortable. Her idea I guess was to help us to
push our own private boundaries.

The assignment in question had to be an erotic piece that dealt with
some aspect of our lives, in the past or present. It could be written as a
sci-fi, historical, or present day. It had to have some truth to it, and
it had to have affected us in some deep way. She then gave us one month to
complete it. This in itself was unusual for her, since she was always
pushing us on short deadlines, saying, "In the real world, you don't get a
long period of time to complete projects."

We were all surprised by this assignment, me more so than the others in
my class. I had never read or wrote 'erotic' anything in my life. I
actually used to read Penthouse and Playboy for the pictures. I had
written some poetry for my then fiancé', and even something once in a while
for her after we were married. I didn't want to go into my past for erotic
stories, and especially didn't want to write about anything that had
happened to me then.

It took me a full week to finally find something that I thought 'fit'
the assignment. My wife, Kate, knew that something had been bothering me,
and I finally told her part of the truth. I told her how we had to write
an erotic story for our class, based on our knowledge. I should have,
looking back, told her everything about the assignment. Maybe the things
that happened would never have occurred, and I would still be in marital
bliss.

Some of my classmates were very into this assignment, especially Gary
and Ted. They were you typical jock-type guys, always grab-assing and
flirting with the ladies. I tended to be more, well, moderate in my social
and public outlook. I had a beautiful and loving wife at home, and I
didn't need the attentions of other women. Hanging around with those two
would have been something I wouldn't do in any circumstance. To be honest
though, deep down, I wanted to 'be one of the guys'.

When I started to write my story down, I used a very personal memory of
when I had been about thirteen years old. My father had owned an apartment
building complex in the city. He had tenants that were for the most part
college kids. Some of them were married, and most were single. As long as
the rent was paid and trouble kept to a minimum, dad would leave them to
their own devices. Usually they were busy studying and tired from working
part-time jobs, to be too adventurous. It wasn't like that at all in the
dorms down the street a ways though. There, the parties were notorious,
even a geek teen like me had heard about some of the goings on at those
parties.

Anyway, one afternoon, dad had me working in the building. My job was
to sweep up the hallways, and dump the garbage cans on each level. I got
paid a very small sum for this, but dad was a firm believer in hard work.
This day, I swept up and was on the third floor finishing up when near the
door of an apartment I heard many voices. The tenants in this apartment
were always in my mind because they were one of the few married couples in
the building. I had a crush on the girl. She was the embodiment of
everything I looked for in a woman. She had long blonde hair, great
figure, big chest, and to top it off, she talked to me like I was an adult.
She was very nice, and was majoring in teaching.

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