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Everyone depicted in a sex scene is 18 or older.

This is the sequel to Handsome, which can be found on Literotica under Paris Waterman.

Handsome Goes to College deals with the resumption of his porno enterprise and subsequent move to the west coast to expand his film making.

*****

Prologue

Monday morning I was sitting in my Geometry class, killing time watching the teacher, Miss Felez, a twenty-three year-old redhead from Costa Rica.

I had heard the grapevine rumors that Miss Felez and the physics teacher had a thing going, but it was only a rumor. Mr. Theodore was hardly a stud, and probably ten years older than her. But from what I knew about women, that meant next to nothing.

My boredom dropped away like an autumn leaf as Miss Felez moved from behind her desk and began to pace back and forth in front of the class. Her thighs were flashing out from under her miniskirt and I was certain that her very appearance was another school board prohibition.

Teachers were required to be staid, and not given to any conduct that might affect our youthful hormone driven minds.

In my hormone driven mind, this Latin beauty was playing numerous roles in the next few films Hayley and I put together; of course I would be playing the male lead alongside her.

My daydream was interrupted when I realized that two huge men were standing next to my desk. I looked up; they were at least the size of NFL defensive linemen.

"Aubrey Morgenthall," one said ominously, "You are under arrest." He followed with what I believe to have been a Miranda warning. I was told to stand, and did. I was handcuffed with my hands behind my back and marched out of the school.

I saw two police cars, and what I assumed was Hayley's head in the back of the lead car. I was ushered into the second car, and taken to the local precinct, and then fingerprinted, photographed and taken to a cell and left there.

I knew I had the right to a phone call and at the first opportunity asked permission to make it. The guard laughed in my face and walked away.

That's when the fear hit me. I had been arrested for making the films.

Eventually I got to make my call. And, while it seemed like years, it was only two hours before my mother showed up with a lawyer in tow.

There was a sequence of "what have you done?" And "why did you do it?"

From my mother, but before I could answer, the lawyer told me to remain quiet and not say a word until he had advised me as to what was going on.

"You've been arrested for making films involving the use of minors performing sexual acts, plain and simple, Child Pornography."

"But that's not true!"

"Doesn't matter, if you were present when a minor and by the way, that would include yourself... performed any sexual act, then you're involved in Child Pornography. To be specific and I need to be specific for your benefit, Aubrey, the law reads as follows: 'any visual depiction, including any photograph, film, video, picture, or computer or computer-generated image or picture, whether made or produced by electronic, mechanical, or other means, of sexually explicit conduct where: (A) the production of such visual depiction involves the use of a minor engaging in sexually explicit conduct. (B) Such visual depiction is, or appears to be, of a minor engaging in sexually explicit conduct.© Such visual depiction has been created, adapted, or modified to appear that an identifiable minor is engaging in sexually explicit conduct. (D) Such visual depiction is advertised, promoted, presented, described, or distributed in such a manner that conveys the impression that the material is or contains a visual depiction of a minor engaging in sexually explicit conduct.'"

He shuffled some papers and resumed talking to me. "The DA more than likely has one or more films with you in them, or you wouldn't be here. We don't know yet, but will by tomorrow. They also arrested a young lady from your school..."

"Hayley!" I blurted.

"Yes, that's her name... last name is..." He was thumbing through a sheaf of paper, "For distributing said films, and have warrants out for the arrest of several other individuals, whom we know next to nothing about."

"Never mind," I said, then turned to my mother and apologized for causing her all this trouble.

"Aubrey, we want to get you out of here, and will..." She said and started to cry.

The lawyer, whose name I didn't get at the time, interrupted her. "We can't get bail today. They're deliberately holding you over night. In the morning they'll take you in front of the judge and we'll be there will bail money. That will get you home until the trial. But you're here for the night. I must warn you not to talk with anyone about your problem. Someone, either a guard or another prisoner may try talking to you. Best advice, don't talk back. Be Silent John for the night and until we bail you out tomorrow."

"Why can't I talk to anyone?" I asked.

"It wouldn't be the first time someone befriended a prisoner the last of us izle and then turned around and testified against them for favors in their own sentencing. Further, they have been known to lie about what was said. So keep that mouth closed, got it?"

I nodded, and a minute or so later, after hugging my mother, they left me there alone and scared to death.

Needless to say it was a long, sleepless night. I worried more about Hayley than myself, for reasons I no longer remember.

I was given breakfast at seven, and then, wearing an orange jump suit and leg-irons, marched into court. I saw my mother and my lawyer, whose name I then learned was Smathers.

The judge told me I was charged with a total of 23 crimes, of which the only one I remembered was Child Pornography.

My attorney jumped in, and plead me not guilty. I was released to my mother after bail was posted with the strict admonition that I was not to contact Hayley or Janet, or a Mrs. Teannel.

It took me a few seconds before I realized that Mrs. Teannel was non-other than Claire, with whom I'd made our first hour length feature. That meant they (the prosecution) had our first three tapes. I shuddered thinking it would only get worse when the others surfaced.

I was given my clothing back and left the courthouse only to be besieged by three television news crews, and a dozen or so reporters, all screaming questions at me and taking videos and pictures from the moment I walked out the door until I closed the car door behind me.

My mother just about ignored me when we got home, so I went to my room and started to call Hayley, only to hang up after remembering what the judge had warned me about. All they need to do is check our phone record and they'll know I called her, I thought.

A moment later my phone rang, and I answered. "Hello?"

"It's me," Hayley said.

"You calling from your own phone?"

"Fuck no! Think I'm stupid? I bought a clean cell. I'll be quick. My father has just hired a high powered attorney..."

"That's great you're going to need one, I..."

"Shut up! He's going to represent all of us. Well maybe not Claire, she's over twenty-one and will have to fend for herself."

"I have an attorney..."

"I know, shut up and listen, will you?"

"Okay."

"This guy costs a fortune. Fortunately my dad is loaded and doesn't want my name, or his besmirched... that's his word, not mine. This guy went to school with the judge. Not the one we saw today. The one we'll be facing at the trial.

Don't ask me how I know, I just know. The thing is my guy can pull strings your guy doesn't know exist. The thing is everyone in our videos is of legal age. I'm told they think otherwise and that's what all the fuss is about. We'll get off with a slap on the hand, and we'll most likely get to keep our money.

Oh, that's another thing. Tell no one about the money. We're still considered kids. Our story is that we were taken advantage of."

"By whom?" I asked.

"Who the fuck knows? We just were - that's all."

"Okay. What do I tell my mom?"

"Nothing. You don't know anything. Just go with the flow. I've talked to this guy, and that's what he told me to tell you."

And that's what I did. Two days later my mother called me downstairs and told me the good news. We had a fancy attorney taking over our case. Mr. Smathers had advised Mom to allow this gentleman, a Mr. Craft, to take over for him. He also told her that Mr. Craft was already engaged and paid for by Hayley's father. This meant that our legal costs, some $84,000, for which Mom had mortgaged our home, had vanished.

Mom was elated on that count, but petrified that I might be sent off to prison and be labeled a sex offender for the remainder of my life.

What actually happened was this: the principal pieces of evidence, i.e. the three videos, mysteriously disappeared from the police storage center.

This is not all that unusual, although the DA certainly thought so. Seized drugs have a long history of wandering off, before, during and after trial of drug peddlers. The Chief of Police chalked it up to some horny cop, or cops who wanted to watch the tapes, and who had then destroyed the evidence rather than risk getting caught returning them.

Even at eighteen I knew better than that. Mr. Craft had paid someone to remove and either destroy the tapes or give them to him and he destroyed them.

We were all released to go on with our lives. Janet left town to live with an aunt in Michigan, Mrs. Teannel went back to work as if nothing had happened, and as far as she was concerned nothing did. Well, she did happen to marry a police lieutenant a few months later, I suspect he got to view that particular tape, and to this day wonder if he was the one who made the tapes disappear

Even so, there were repercussions I hadn't counted on. Hayley was transferred to a private school in Vermont, several hundred miles away, against her wishes.

I the lying life of adults izle was no longer welcome at my high school, and had to transfer to Rutherford B. Hayes, where I spent most of my time avoiding Dreamer and his friends.

My mom's fiancée broke off their engagement, claiming the relationship was bad for his business. My mom was distraught and eventually sold our house and we moved to Cincinnati.

I finished my senior year there without going out for football, and probably because of that I remained just the new kid in town.

Even so, there were repercussions I hadn't counted on. Hayley was transferred to a private school in Vermont, several hundred miles away, against her wishes.

I was no longer welcome at my high school, and had to transfer to Rutherford B. Hayes, where I spent most of my time avoiding Dreamer and his friends.

My mom's fiancée broke off their engagement, claiming the relationship was bad for his business. My mom was distraught and eventually sold our house and we moved to Cincinnati.

I finished my senior year there without going out for football, and probably because of that I remained just the new kid in town.

I enrolled at the University of Cincinnati and walked on to the football team, made it, and became the fourth string quarterback. I was second string before leaving school, but there's no sense in getting ahead of myself.

Chapter 1: Picking up where I left off...

While not a really well-known school, the U of C had roughly 40,000 students enrolled, 60% of who were female. I loved the odds. Some of the more well-known alumni from the school are: Kathleen Battle, opera singer; Thomas Berger, author of Little Big Man, George Clooney, Movie Actor; Cris Collinsworth, Sports commentator, former NFL player; Greg Cook, former NFL Quarterback; Sandy Koufax, Hall of Fame baseball pitcher; and Oscar Robertson, one the best basketball players ever.

I found life on the campus itself interesting and the sex life there probably higher than many other colleges; at least as far as I can ascertain years after graduating. The same cannot be said for the rest of Cincinnati.

Although I remove myself from the following comments, as I had my early education in having sex with women here thanks to my Aunt Nicole.

Forbes Magazine recently rated 40 of the nation's singles scenes by city, and Cincinnati came in 40th - out of 40. Columbus, Detroit, Indianapolis, Louisville and Pittsburgh all ranked higher. The author called Cincinnati "bland" and "inoffensive" and described us as eating at Applebee's in our "good sweatpants."

It's a sad scene, a tense scenario, but it's mostly true. Many voices speaking on the Cincinnati singles scene have expressed frustration with the area's "meetability" factor, and the swarm of engaged and married couples.

Many young people are dismayed, as well, with the Cincinnati cliques, defined by two categories: place of employment and high school attended.

It's a fact newcomers learn quickly: The scene bubbles with an annual crop of Proctor