Just Say No To Sex; Dr. Coburn Shows You How!
Author: Tom Attea

(Extended spoof, presented In 10 installments of 4 pages each.
This is the eighth installment; previous ones are presented on
this site or below each new installment at NewsLaugh.com, in
case you miss one or more.)

He looked at Dan critically. "Now, I realize that you know more
than most of my students about the snares of evening – evening,
when the human race seems to be most susceptible to lust,
generally disguised as moonlight and romance, love, as the
euphemism goes."

"I kind of remember."

"I'm sure. But now, thanks to your diligent studies, you're
armed against its manifold inducements to dereliction. That is
why I do not hesitate to send you into battle, so you may wrest
from it your greatest triumph – a triumph that will bring you
far more distinction than all of your achievements in football.
The clinical presents an absolutely stellar opportunity for you
and Melanie to realize the potential of the blessed restraints
I have provided you and to make us all magnificently proud."

"I appreciate your confidence in me," Dan told him, and dared
to ask, "Are we going out on a date?"

"You can if you wish. But I suggest you enjoy a perfectly
unromantic evening right here."

"Here?"

"If you like. You see, Dr. Ernst has been kind enough to invite
me out to dinner. I'll be leaving any moment – I should add,
without any concern whatsoever about your mutual capacity for
sexual abstinence. Tell me, is my confidence in you justified?"


"Yes, sir. I can handle it."

"Of course, you can," he said, and stuck out his hand. "Here's
to an uneventful night."

They shook.

"Thank you for all you've taught me. I'm ready."

"Excellent!"

The doorbell rang.

"Ah, that must be Dr. Ernst now. Be right back."

He went to open the door, and Dan did his best to restrain his
delight.

Soon, he reentered the den, accompanied by Dr. Ernst.

"Good evening, Dan," she said, noticing his diploma.

"Hi, Dr. Ernst," he replied.

"I see you graduated," she commented mockingly.

"A well-earned achievement," Dr. Coburn informed her. "He has,
in fact, come so far that I've decided to let him spend the
evening with Melanie."

"You did mention that when we talked," she acknowledged. Then
she changed her tone. "Now, you've your month to train the
young man. Let me help the evening along."

"In what way?" Richard wanted to know.

"Well, first of all, I must ask, where is your vaunted
ecological conscience?"

"What do you mean, Priscilla?"

"Do you always leave this much light on – when you know very
well how much unnecessary pollution is created by excess
electrical generation?" Having made her point, she went to the
dimmer switch near the door and dialed it down. Then she turned
her attention to Dan and gestured into the newly mellow
ambience. "Now, tell me, Mr. Fox, what does the soft light of
evening bring to mind?"

He and Dr. Coburn exchanged confused glances.

She walked toward the stereo on the bookcase, saying, "Of
course, accompanied by some rapturous music." She selected a
CD, inserted it, and turned it on. Soft music altered the mood
of the room to a treacherous degree, and she asked Dan,
"Feeling any latent stirrings?"

He yawned, and replied, "I think I'm getting sleepy."

"Ha! Spoken like a true Coburnian!" Richard couldn't resist
effusing.

"He can't possibly be that far gone," Dr. Ernst retorted.

"You mean to say, that far advanced," Dr. Coburn admonished
her. Then he turned to Dan. "I'm sure you and Melanie will have
a wonderfully redemptive evening."

"Thanks," Dan said.

"But it is a little stuffy in here," Dr. Coburn observed. "Let
me just open the window a tad before we leave. The fresh air
will do you good."

"Thanks" he replied. "Maybe that's why I'm a little drowsy."

"Let's hope so," Dr. Ernst interposed. "I would hate to think
the flames of yesterday have been completely snuffed out."

Dr. Coburn went to the window and slid it up a little. "Oh,
good. There's a bit of a summer breeze." He walked back and put
forth his arm. "Shall we, Priscilla?"

"Gladly," she replied, and placed her arm around his.

"Have a nice dinner," Dan told them, "and don't worry about
anything."

"Thank you," Dr. Coburn replied. "I'll let Melanie know we're
leaving."

They departed the den.

When they were walking across the living room, Dan heard him
call, "Mel, dear, Dr. Ernst and I are leaving. Don't make Dan
wait too long for his evening class."

"I won't, Daddy," she called back.

Dan listened for the front door to close. When it did, he
realized he was alone with Melanie. He considered his demeanor
for a moment and opted to open his autographed copy of Dr.
Coburn's book and present the appearance of exceptional
studiousness. He heard Melanie coming down the steps, and soon
she appeared at the doorway. He pretended that he did not sense
her presence.

She cleared her throat. He turned to look and was astonished at
what he saw – not the usual plan-Jane Melanie but a voluptuous
young woman in a revealing black evening dress, made up to
personify a seductress to the extent she could manage the
transformation.

"Hi, there," she breathed. He felt desire move within him and
out toward her, but he restrained himself, and said as calmly
as he could, "Hi, Mel."

"Ready for your clinical?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, and put down her father's book on the coffee
table.

She walked over to him, and his eyes could not help but follow
her fluid desirability.

Meanwhile, Dr. Coburn and Dr. Ernst stealthily took up their
presence outside the open window. Their intention was to
observe Dan's evening class and, as agreed, decide the fate of
Dr. Coburn's method according to the outcome.

Melanie came to a stop disturbingly close to Dan's adoring
eyes, and asked "What do you think?"

"Tyrannosaurus Rex," he said, and with a lump in his throat,
added, "What's going on?"

"What's a postgraduate clinical without a little temptation?"
she replied in her best assumption of sultriness.

"Looks like advanced study to me," he told her. "Good thing
your dad taught me to see a beautiful woman as mere transient
protoplasm." Then he reconsidered his estimation of her.
"Great-looking protoplasm, though."

"Thank you. It's the first time I made myself up since my
mother left."

"I feel honored," he said. "I've never seen you look so
'Texaco.'"

"I wanted you to see me this way."

"Just to give me a hard time?"

"Naughty boy. What kind of time?"

"Sorry about that. A tough time."

"Excellent replacement!" she said, and sat down beside him. "I
want to look ravishing for you."

"Really?" he replied, with his voice unavoidably rising an
octave.

"Un-huh," she intoned, and glanced at the coffee table.
"Reading Daddy's book again?"

"Yeah," he said. "I need all the knowledge I can get."

"We all do," she exhaled, and put her hand on his leg. "I think
I like you."

"Really?" he replied, and reached for his resources. "What
about Coburn's sixty-third axiom? 'Touching leads to –'"

She silenced him by kissing his lips delectably, and completed
the premise of the axiom for him. "' – arousal.'"

"This is really advanced stuff," he said. "I don't know if I'm
ready for it."

"It's not advanced," she said.

"It isn't?" he struggled to say.

"No, it's for real."

"It is?"

"I'm not in the mood for a postgraduate clinical," she
whispered, and twirled a lock of his hair.

"You aren't?"

"Not really."

"Well," he queried, "if it's not a clinical, what is it?"

"Just me, myself, and I."

"Oh," he said. "You're making living by the book a real
challenge."

"I am?"

"Yeah. I mean, part of me says, 'Watch out!' And the other part
says, 'Wow, this is hot!'"

"Which part are you going to listen to?" she asked, squeezing
his leg.

"Mexico! The whole enchilada!"

"Very good," she said, and gave one of his earlobes a tender
bite.

"Texaco! High octane!"

"Silly boy. Do you really think you can resist me?"

"I'm throwing everything I have at it."

"You're the first man who ever took my dad's training so
seriously."

"The first?"

"The very first."

"You mean, all the others – "

"– only wanted one thing."

"Tyrannosaurus Rex?"

"No, big boy. Sex, " she uttered, and stroked his cheek with
the back of her hand. "But you're different, aren't you?"

"You bet," he avowed, and then sought to understand the truth
of his plight. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go right ahead."

"Are you really being yourself or are you just trying to break
me down? I'd like to know."

"Would it change how you behave?"

"It might."

"I'm just being human."

"Not just my downfall?"

"No, not tonight," she whispered, and opened the top button of
his shirt. "I think we deserve a night off, don't you?"

"Wow," he said, "this is getting hotter than a jalapeno
pepper."

"Is it?"

"Yeah."

"That's because I adore you, Dan."

"You do?"

"Yes. So much I want you to be the first man I have sex with."

"That much?"

"You have no idea," she said, and leaned over to kiss his bare
chest.

"I didn't know you could be this hot," he commented.

"I don't usually show my true emotions," she said, and moved
her hand higher up his thigh. "I want to be naked with you."

"You do?"

"And make wild and crazy love with you."

"Melanie, I'm not sure your father prepared me for this."

"That makes two of us," she told him, and reached for his now
quite erect "love maker."

"OK, Melanie," he said, "that's it. Cool it or I flunk my
practical."

"I want you to flunk."

"What about your virginity?"

"I'm only human, after all."

"Well, what about your dad? If he found out you had sex, it
would kill him."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Are you?"

"Why would I do that?" she replied, and cooed in his ear,
"Please, make love to me."

"Really?"

"I'm so crazy about you."

"I can't," he managed to affirm, and tried to remove her hand,
but she was determined to keep it where it was.

"Why not?" she wanted to know. "I think I might even love you."


"Come on, you're kidding?" She sat back and looked at him with,
what he decided was, totally disarming innocence. "No, Dan. I
really have this deep, tender feeling that says I always want
to be near you and, yes, make love with you."

"OK, I've heard enough," he said, "you're breaking my heart."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a rotten liar, that's why," he finally had to
confess.

End of Installment Eight


About The Author: Tom Attea, humorist and creator of
http://NewsLaugh.com, has had six shows produced Off-Broadway.
Critics have called his writing "delightfully funny," "witty,"
with "great humor and ebullience" and "good, genuine laughs."