First, Some Homework

Kelly wanted to throw herself into her new idea, but still found herself somehow nervous about it, too. Even if they felt no shame about it themselves, she wasn’t sure how appropriate it would be to start interviewing her own students about their sex lives. That seemed like a good way to get herself canceled, though the fact that Emma seemed confused about this concept when Kelly mentioned it to her made her think she was a couple editions of the slang dictionary behind.

Still, she decided that it would be better to avoid directly studying the students at her own school, at least until she could get a better sense of what boundaries were actually at play here. After some moments thought on this, Emma said she knew a girl from her high school who had gone to Cassidy College across town.

“I can DM her and see if she can get us an in somewhere,” she offered. “But no promises. It’s been a minute since I ate her out, hopefully she still remembers me.”

The fact that Kelly found herself not quite knowing whether Emma meant “ate her out” literally or not brought her to her next request, which was for Emma to give her some recommendations for background research. That is to say, were there any books, movies, or heck, YouTube channels she suggested Kelly check out to get a better sense of what so-called Generation XXX (she was relieved to find out Emma used this term as well, though she pronounced it “Gen Triple-X”) actually acted and sounded like when hanging out with each other. Or at least to start learning enough of the lingo to allow her to take competent notes in a social setting.

Emma laughed at the idea that her she and her friends would be caught dead on YouTube, and ominously told Kelly she “wasn’t ready yet” for her generation’s social media. Instead, she recommended a binge session with a reality TV series called Sluts of San Diego.

“I finally get to give a teacher homework and it’s watching the trashiest thing imaginable, but… you did ask,” Emma said.

Kelly actually had heard of the show. It was apparently a huge hit, to the point that several spin-offs had been added to the Sluts franchise, though she had never really considered watching it before. Still, she found herself taking time out from lesson planning to sit in bed in her PJs with a pint of low-fat ice cream and her cat next to her, turning on a streaming service she had forgotten that she was paying for.

The show featured the (clearly staged) travails of a group of very rich girls in seaside California, who seemed to spend most of their time at the beach, on the dicks of various guys, or on the dicks of various guys while at the beach. They frequently professed to be “Besties” with each other while simultaneously stabbing each other in the back in various ways. Great art, it was not. Still, Kelly decided that Emma was right, she was learning a lot.

She had thought she was prepared for the show to be unabashedly sexual, but Kelly still found herself surprised at how many sex scenes there were and how little clothes the girls actually wore. Several times an episode, the girls would perform various sex acts with guys (often with only their face shown on screen, the rest just being heavily implied) or, for that matter, with each other, often in front of guys. This was all portrayed very matter of factly. The girls mostly called each other “slut” as a term of endearment.

Though the show occasionally seemed reticent to turn into pure pornography, it had no problem showing its stars going topless to the beach, to the club, or just when hanging out with each other. They called this “going JP,” short for “Just Panties.” When they did feel the need to cover up, for example if they were in some situation they anticipated seeing a lot of people older than them, the clothes they wore seemed designed to emphasize their assets, rather than hide them,

She took notes on the way the girls seemed to maintain relationships with different men simultaneously, and those relationships were not all of the same type. Some men were “boyfriends,” others were “fuckfriends.” When these categories overlapped, especially if a girl had one of her friends’ boyfriends as her fuckfriend, drama ensued.

She tried her best to keep track of the terms. They had their own words for various sex acts. They called public fucking “pub” and people who they saw as overly sexually conservative (which turned out to be basically everyone who wasn’t them) “crits,” short for “hypocrites,” Kelly guessed. Orgasming was shortened to “gazzing.” So a girl might say, “I got pub from my fuckfriend John in the park and I was gonna gazz so hard until a crit narc'd on us.” Kelly found herself thankful that her students seemed to be able to talk more comprehensibly in class. Then again, not every popular girl had a full Valley Girl vocabulary in 1987, but many picked up a phrase or two.

Kelly had to admit, the girls and their various boytoys were all very attractive. She was surprised to find herself getting a little turned on watching a rich girl named Malina with really great tits ride her boyfriend’s off-screen dick, a dick, if Malina’s dirty talk was to be believed, of truly prodigious size. More than a little turned on, if she was honest. And she was alone, so nobody except her cat would know if her hand drifted inside her pajama bottoms…

The next day, Emma, wearing a t-shirt Kelly thought was several sizes too small above a healthy slice of bare midriff, caught her just before class and mentioned that her friend at Cassidy College, Christy Zhang, had agreed to give the two of them invites to a party being thrown by Christy’s sorority that Saturday night at eight.

“I know you’re the Professor and I’m the RA, Dr. Wyndam,” Emma said, “but I feel like I should say, there’s no pressure if you don’t want to go. Or if you do go, to do anything you don’t want to do. This isn’t about that.”

“I appreciate the thought,” Kelly replied, “but you don’t have to protect me. I want to find out what makes your generation tick, and I’m sure I’ll have to go outside my comfort zone to do it.”

Emma did not seem convinced. “Still, no pressure.”

“I know I’ll stick out,” Kelly said, “but I’d like to do what I can to minimize that. What do you think I should wear?” She looked around to make sure none of the other kids were standing too close and asked, “Will people be… going JP?”

A very loud, surprised laugh came from the younger girl. She immediately covered her mouth, doing her best to be nice. “Sorry, um. JP’s not always as practical in places that aren’t San Diego, though it’s been really hot lately, so... maybe some people? I don’t know what the scene is like at Cassidy, but I wasn’t planning on it. And honestly, if you did it would be extremely ‘Hello, fellow teenagers,’ you know what I mean? I take it you watched Sluts of San Diego?”

“Only the first three episodes,” the professor replied. “I found it really mentally tiring.”

“Look, let me know if this is too weird, I’m just trying to help,” Emma said. “Do you live near campus? Why don’t I come by beforehand, help you pick something out. Then we can head over together. Does that work?

Kelly normally wouldn’t invite her students over to her apartment, especially students that she was fairly certain fucked other girls regularly. But the blonde was right, she needed the help. She hadn’t gone to a sorority party in… ever, and she wanted the subjects to open up to her and act normally in her presence.

“Six thirty sound good?” she asked.