Assume The Sale


[This is a sequel to Nora’s Term Paper.]

I was entering the South Campus gate at 135ht Street and Convent Ave when I saw a young woman, one of my fellow students, walking in the opposite direction. She was a tall, pale girl with straight medium-brown hair and steel-rimmed glasses. I recognized her as Nora Meara, who had been in my freshman history class during the spring 1974 semester.

She wasn’t just any classmate. Near the end of that term she had offered me a blowjob in return for a final paper to be written by me. I was foolish but horny; I had no experience with woman whatsoever as I passed my nineteenth birthday. Perhaps it was in a spirit of experimentation that I had accepted her arrangement even though I had never before considered buying or trading for sex.

The transaction had been completed although neither of us was completely satisfied with the results. A few days later we had a bitter argument while we stood outside our classroom building, Wagner Hall. She had made it clear that I should never approach her if I saw her around campus again and I was happy to comply with her wishes.

Now the fall semester had just started and this was the first time I had seen her in over two months. I considered veering off to the side to avoid passing her but she saw me too and she walked directly towards me. In the few moments, as I stood there in indecision, she had closed the distance between us.

“Hey Paul, I haven’t seen you in a while.”

My social instinct automatically answered for me, “Hi, Nora.” I almost continued with, how are you doing? but I stopped myself.

“I haven’t seen you since last semester.”

I decided to use a bit of honesty here, “I thought you said you didn’t want to see me again.”

She made an expression and a shrugging gesture that seemed to say, well, what can I say, that was then. I suspect it was faked; I knew she was a good manipulator.

She replied, “Okay, so we had a bit of a kerfuffle last year.” Actually I remembered how nasty and threatening she had been then. Now he gestured for me to step aside a few yards into the plaza in front of Cohen Library. This took us out of the flow of pedestrians using the pathway.

She said, “Anyway, you know why I’m here now.”

I probably did know but I didn’t want to admit it, “No, not exactly.”

“Come on silly, I’m going to offer you another deal, or maybe more than one deal.”

I wasn’t that pleased with how the previous one had gone and she had to know that. She took an indirect approach, “Do you have a girlfriend now?”

“Ah no, but the semester just started.”

“Well, you had the whole summer.” Yes, a whole summer as a foot messenger downtown; not exactly a pick-up paradise.

She continued, “In any case, hope springs eternal.” She had put an odd fake lilt into her voice. She was teasing me as she had done last semester and it was not in a friendly way. I guessed, or maybe just fantasized, her thoughts about me: with the past as a guide, the odds are that you are not finding a girlfriend any time soon. That’s where I come in.

She looked at her slim gold watch and said, “So you can at least meet me in the Finley cafeteria and hear me out, say at five?”

One part of me thought, turn her down, get away from her now. And yet another voice, a devilish one, said in my left ear, go ahead, check it out, it’s just talk.

I briefly looked her over. She was wearing a pullover long-sleeved blouse, a skirt that came to just above her knees, and her bare feet were in a pair of brown loafers. Somehow she appeared both more modest and more sophisticated that previously, although perhaps I was imagining more than was really true. But I could picture a faculty member or administrator noticing her enter Cohen Library. They might think, what a nice studious young woman.

Yes, this exemplary coed offered sex acts to other students who did her coursework for her. I had made some inquires about her and I found out that she was an amateur campus prostitute exchanging herself for cash or academic services, depending on whatever her clients could offer.

With some reluctance I decided to go to the next step, “Okay, I’ll be there.” I wanted to find out what she had available this time. Just knowing couldn’t hurt, right?

She smiled – faked again I guessed – and then turned to leave.


The South Campus cafeteria of New York’s City College was in a huge old building called Finley Hall. This place served as the Student Center for the college and it also contained the office of the newspaper I wrote for, The Salient.

I was sitting at a table in that grungy room when Nora came in and sat down. I noticed that she was wearing lipstick now and she hadn’t been earlier. I’d have called it dark pink, not red. I knew it was not a coincidence that she had applied this bit of makeup.

The first thing she said, “Okay, I’m tell you what I need and you can tell me if you can provide it.” In an instant she was taking out some papers illegal bahis and arranging them on the table. These were the materials from her courses, the syllabuses and reading lists.

I hadn’t yet heard the phrases “always be closing” and “assume the sale” but those could be applied to Nora. She went over the four courses she had and asked me which ones could be mostly or entirely handled by me.

She had one each in English, sociology, political science and history. The title of the history course, America Since 1945, seemed promising but it had a huge reading least. I settled, tentatively, on the poli sci and sociology classes as the ones I could handle. Each of them required two papers but there were no tests.

Nora said, “Probably it would be a good idea if you got permission to sit in and audit those classes.”

“Aren’t you going to be attending them?”

“For the most part yes, just so everything looks kosher. But you’re the one actually doing the work.”

I checked the dates and times and saw that there was no conflicts with any of my courses. However, I would have to deal with commuting and then attending these classes. For one thing, I’d have to be on the campus on Thursdays which I originally had intended to be an off-day.

Then she leaned back and said, “Okay, your end, I mean what you’re getting. I know one thing you want.”

I think I knew but I said, “Which is what?”

“Oh, coitus, copulation, balling – whatever word you want to use.”

I felt shame and embarrassment and I think she noticed that in my expression. She ignored it and kept on talking. “What I propose, I’ve thought this through already, is you get a bang for each end-term paper and a blowjob for each midterm.”

Like before, she was managing my side of the deal. I tried a mild protest.

“That’s it? I have no say in this?”

“It’s retailing, baby. You go into Sears and you get a certain product for a certain price.” I guessed she didn’t believe in haggling.

She must have noticed my dissatisfaction, because she added, “All right, I’ll add one bonus blowjob and one handjob as part of the overall deal.”

I attempted a joke, “This is like when a car dealership throws in the floor mats.”

She did laugh at that. I thought, Nora, you’re so pretty and you’re smart and witty too. Yet, you’re also damaged in some way, deeply fucked in the mind, and there may be nothing that can be done about that.

I think she sensed my doubts, “I’ll give you three days to think it over. Meet me here again, same time, on Friday.”

I sat for a moment and considered things, “Nora, I was thinking, this is kind of ambitious. I might rather do like one course, or maybe just one paper.”

“That’s fine, I’d be amendable to that. It’s your choice. In fact . . .” She leaned closer and she had a very serious expression. “You might be cautious and really consider what you can handle. I wouldn’t want to repeat what happened last semester.”

What had happened was that I was disappointed in the blowjob I had gotten, and she had been unhappy with the mediocre grade she had received on the paper I had written for her.

She continued, “You’ve got to get your head straight this time. If you make a commitment, I expect you to uphold your end of it.”

I dropped some pseudo-philosophical comment, “Life does take some strange turns.”

“Hey, don’t do it if you don’t want to. Spend your semester trying to get into the pants of some nice girl for free.”

She was getting under my skin again and I responded, “You said something like that once before.”

“Because I’ve seen that kind of thing before. The age of Aquarius: guys think that liberated-chick pussy is going to be coming from the sky like raindrops.” She made a motion with her fingers indicating rain falling. “But it’s a harsh world, everything is pay for play.”

She had some need to open up to me, “Listen buddy, you want a lot of free poon-tang, or even a little of it? Become at least moderately famous or rich, try out for a rock band perhaps. Otherwise, be prepared to put a ring on the finger of that girl you’re lusting for.”

I decided to challenge her, “It’s not all like that.”

“Oh really, what have you seen yourself? Some of these chicks will give you a taste before they rope you in, but that’s their goal. And on the other hand, guys will make all sorts of promises to girls, then fuck them and dump them. Not me baby, I’m not going for either scenario.”

It struck me that she must have been jilted once herself, maybe more than once.

Then she said, “Three days.” She held up three fingers. “Can you be here again Friday afternoon?”

I told her I could and then she got up and left.


I had had a few fantasies about Nora over the summer.

One of the most disconcerting took place in a Garment District loft building that had been on one of my rounds as a messenger. I imagined that for some reason I was there late at night and I had entered the illegal bahis siteleri elevator lobby on one of the upper floors. Nora was being raped in there by two guys. They had tied her hands behind her back and taped over her mouth. One of them held her down on a pile of cartons while the other pounded her.

When I walked in they didn’t notice me but she did. The look in her eyes signaled, please help me. I stared for a moment and then I watched the man’s buttocks clench as he rapidly thrust into her. I caught her attention again and I shook my head. A moment later an elevator arrived and I got on it.

I was disturbed by this waking nightmare I had created. I tried to rationalize it by thinking that it was actually Nora’s fault; her dysfunction was having a baleful influence on me.

I hadn’t planned on seeing her at all during the fall semester, but now I had voluntarily met her in Finley and I was going to meet her yet again to finalize arrangements. I knew what the pitfalls could be but I was doing this anyway. Now I had to admit that some of this darkness was not just within her but within me too.


“I was wondering if we could work this differently, I mean I’d pay cash and it would pay as we go. This academic thing, doing your coursework, it just seems like too much for me.”

This was during our Friday afternoon meeting. I had gotten the nerve to tell her my reservations and to propose some alternatives.

To my surprise she accepted that without complaint, “All right, that’s fine, we’ll talk about other arrangements.”

“I’m sorry about your classes.” Why did you just apologize to this grasping harlot?

She smiled at me, “I’m not worried, I have back-up, guys in reserve who are willing to take over.”

I was surprised and I blurted out, “Really, you could arrange that so easily?”

She seemed to be in a chatty mood, “Yeah, I think I told you this already. You don’t know the depth of male pussy starvation on this campus. Probably it’s on all campuses if I could speculate. Anyway, college is certainly one big – call it corral or complex full of eager dicks looking for pussy to pound.”

She warmed up to the topic, “I guess it’s always been like that, but back in the days of raccoon coats and rumble seats men understood there wasn’t much being offered for free. Most of them – probably – held out until they got snapped up into a marriage. Now they have this post-hippie delusion that gaping pussy is everywhere to be had and – well, to their dismay it just isn’t so.”

I dared say, “You seem to have figured all this out for your benefit.”

“Damn right I have; I just snag these poor schmucks for my own purposes. I got three of my courses covered already by horny but frustrated scholars. The only exception is that history course; the reading list is a real bitch. Since I can’t lower the price I’ll probably have to increase the services offered.”

She’s got an entrepreneurial spirit, that’s for sure. I decided not to ask her about any further details.

“So, Paul, I know what you want: some jelly roll.”

I think I understood, but I wanted to confirm it, “You’re taking about?”

“Some snatch, the magic vagina; I heard you mention mine last semester.”

I had been staring right at it at one point but I hadn’t been allowed to touch. Nora said, “You’ve got some money available, I assume?”

I had worked that minimum wage job over the summer but most of the $3,000 in my savings account had been placed there by my paternal grandfather when I had enrolled in the college. Now I was on the verge of drawing it down to pay for access to his brazen strumpet.

“Ah yeah, I’ve got some cash on hand.”

“Good.” Then she told me the price for one session and I realized I had underestimated the cost.

She must have sensed my misgivings. “That’s the going rate. You could check around to confirm it but you probably wouldn’t know who to talk to. Anyway, The Salient office is the best place to go as before. That couch up there is awful but it will do for this. Pick an evening and show up with the money. Remember the cab fare too.”

For once in my life I was decisive and I choose the following Monday evening. Nora said, “Keep in mind, you’ve got to wear a rubber.”

I didn’t say anything but she guessed I needed an explanation, “If you’re wondering why I don’t just take care of things myself. I deal with a number of guys and I don’t know where they’ve been poking their eager schlongs. I don’t want to get a dose of the clap or something worse.”

Then she brightened, “However, I do have quite a selection I can bring in.” I wondered if she had bought them or if they were extras donated by her clients. “Consider the condoms on-the-house!”

I was reminded of how bars provided peanuts or other snacks to encourage more beer sales. Nora had a knack for business; that was obvious.


On Monday evening I sat in the newspaper office on the third floor and waited for Nora. This canlı bahis siteleri time when she knocked and I let her in I made no pretense of greeting her or trying to be friendly. She just sauntered in and put her hand up, saying one thing, “Money?”

I took out the cash and handed it to. After she had counted in and put it in her purse, she looked around the room, “Yeah, I remember this. The whole school is a dump and this place is certainly a part of it.”

I responded with, “Well, you’re a student at this school. Why did you come here?”

“Free tuition, baby, probably the reason you’re here too. If I could afford it, I might be at NYU or whatever.”

Yeah, and you’d be turning tricks down there too, I’m sure. She had a longer skirt on now, not one of the minis she preferred last semester. Again I was struck by the idea that she was “repositioning” herself to look more mature now. I speculated about her eventually graduating from amateur hooker to call girl status.

As she walked through the room examining it I thought of a Bette Davis character scoffing inside some dive bar. When she looked at the office sofa, a worn-out red-vinyl castoff, she said, “You’d think you guys would get some decent furniture by now.”

“We depend on the student activity fee, you know that.”

“Still, you could chip in to buy something from, I don’t know, the Salvation Army.” She winced, “This school is not just in a slum, it is a slum.”

She sat down on the couch while I stood in front of her. I already knew the outlines of how this would go. There was nothing spontaneous about being with a prostitute; everything was part of a process. Nora was going to withhold any emotional involvement and turn the whole act into a purely physical procedure.

She took a packet out of her purse that contained a condom, “Don’t worry, I’ve got more if something goes wrong with this one. By the way, it’s an ‘endz’ version. You know what that is, right?”

“Sure, I know.” That meant it had a bubble-shaped tip that allowed some space for semen to collect. After she gave that to me, she took out a small brown bottle. “This is a sexual lubricant. After you put the rubber on, use this on it. Believe me, everything will go much smoother that way.

I deduced that she didn’t have to get aroused at all; with the lotion her vagina could be completely dry and we still could copulate. Copulate; what a perfectly uninspiring word for this. She said, “All right, let’s get ready for this. For your part, take your pants down and get Mister Weiner upright.”

As I undid my clothes, she quickly lifted her skirt and removed her white panties. I was standing about a foot away from her as she spread her legs and leaned back on the couch. For the second time in my life I saw her reddish-pink cunt surrounded by her brown pubic hair.

As I started to stroke myself she said, “You can talk if you want, say what’s on own mind.” I noted she didn’t phrase it as, you can talk to me.

I took advantage of the leeway she offered. I said things like, “I’ve thought about you all summer, Nora.”

“You imagined fucking me then?” I thought, her tone of voice is as dry as her cunt probably is.

A moment later I said, “It would help if you touched yourself while I watched.” It was strange to see a woman with legs apart and a look of boredom on her face.

She replied, “You want me to masturbate for you too? That’s an extra twenty, payable immediately.”

I wasn’t about to stop for that and in any case I didn’t have an extra twenty. I tried a joke, “Extra money for something that benefits you?”

“You don’t get it. It would be for your benefit. I don’t care if I feel anything or not.”

I was impressed by her bluntness. I tried another gambit, this one a bit riskier: I insulted her, “Nora, you’re a dirty little whore, you know that?”

She frowned about otherwise didn’t seem that bothered by my comment. I suddenly understood her strategy. Whatever I said or did to get myself erect was to her benefit. The whole act could get done faster and she could go home earlier.

Shortly after that she said, “You look ready enough. Get the rubber and lotion on.”

As I did that she lay down on the cushion with her legs apart. A rubbed my hand clean on my jeans and then I knelt between her legs.

She said, “Okay, put it in already. You must have fantasized about this enough. It’s not that complicated.”

With a little bit of maneuvering I guided my penis to her crotch and rubbed the glans in her opening. I guessed I had it right and I pushed my hips forward. With the lotion I had applied I entered her quite easily.

Okay, I’m inside her and thus. . . I looked at her face and I hoped she wouldn’t do something like put her hands behind her head while I attempted to screw her. I was grateful that she put her hands on my back, but her eyes were closed at this point.

I tried to follow my instincts and I thrust as rhythmically as I could. I used one hand to hold her shoulder and the other to grasp the back of the sofa. I was aware of the condom and I supposed it would be preferable if it wasn’t there. Perhaps the most pleasant sensations came from where the bare flesh of my crotch was rubbing against the bareness of hers.

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