Ernest King was a lover of wine, women, and literature. He was a man’s man, full of vigor and amusement. He filled all of his senses with good food, a bottle or two of red, a good book, and a voluptuous woman. He was on his way to Africa to write another great American novel, have an adventure, and go on safari.
Kristie met up with him on the Long Island compound where all the students gathered as a home base before leaving to various parts of the world to experience culture. There were six staffed campuses to choose from: England, India, Mexico, Australia, Kenya, and New York. From these head quarters, students would design whatever project they were working on, keeping journals of their progress.
The World College ideal was that each student would experience the culture of six of the continents in whatever ways their interests led them. They were expected to plan and complete projects based on the advice of their faculty advisers. Some planned health or social projects, some simply observed and lived the anthropological experience. Writing, presentation, discussion, and debate were always involved.
The compound was a hundred acres on Long Island sound remodeled to become a college campus. The main house had quarters for instructors, staff, and meeting rooms. The carriage house had been modeled into dormitory rooms with a large living room for over flow – kids flopped out on sleeping bags, waiting their next assignment, and a large kitchen where most of the food prep took place.
Everyone pitched in to help. There was only one cook in charge and she could work miracles with some beans, miscellaneous vegetables, and pasta. At least half of the students were vegetarians, so she saved money by simply not buying meat. Her menu featured dishes from around the world: spaghetti, burritos, biryani, tofu stew, champs, lentils, chili, broccoli casserole, Spanish rice, corn chowder, mac and cheese, vegetable soup, etc.
Only one meal was offered each day besides the oatmeal or Cream of Wheat that was left in a crock pot for students to help themselves. If you weren’t up and at it by 10:00 AM, it was cleared away for lunch which amounted to peanut butter or cheese sandwiches and a piece of fruit. It wasn’t fancy, but it sufficed.
Kristie and Vicki were staying in the Kennel house which had been remodeled to accommodate the students. There were five bedrooms, two baths, a working country kitchen, and a small living room. Both of the girls caught the eye of Ernest King. He was a determined lover of women in general, but both of these girls had the blue eyes, long blond hair, and voluptuous figures he desired.
He culls Kristie out of the herd first. They take the boat out onto the Sound ostensibly to hunt for oysters. Ernest takes his shirt off to do the work of guiding the boat to a sylvan spot where they anchor. His red beard and chest hair glisten in the sun with his sweat as he rows. Kristie sits back relaxing in the surge of each stroke, admiring his maleness, and looking forward to an afternoon dalliance.
They stop to make love on a grassy knoll partially hidden from the water’s edge by some trees that were beginning to shed their fall colors. She smiles at him as he stands above her with his fiery red pubic hair nestling his half erect cock dripping with semen after their union.
He beats his fists against his chest looking down on Kristie who is beautifully splayed out in post coital bliss on the grass beneath the dappled light of the trees. Then he looks to the sky and shouts, “God! I love women! I love you, Kristie! Do you know what I mean?”
She knew exactly what he meant. She felt the same way. She loved him in his magnificent vulnerable splendor. She loved men!
(First published 7/12/12)
