The Sexual Escapades Of A Proper Harvard Girl - Getting Her Money's Worth With A Palestinian, A Jew, And A Black Man

Abigail Potter, direct descendant of the New England Potters, Mayflower co-founders of the Massachusetts Bay Colony and the New Haven Plantations, heir to a family fortune and bright star of the Boston elite, was eager to enter Harvard in the Fall. 

Harvard had educated generations of Potters and Davenports, and the Admissions committee had only to see her name on the application form to stamp their approval.  She, of course, was of fine temperament, solid academic credentials, and stunning beauty - not that the Committee was to pay attention to this last quality, but all in all, when selecting among highly qualified candidates for America's premier institution of higher learning, charm, allure, and physical beauty could not be overlooked. 

The Chairman of the Committee, Branford Cummings, a progressive champion of affirmative action and finely attuned to the plight of the black man, had second thoughts; but when out of courtesy to the Potter family he agreed to break protocol and meet Abigail, he was taken by her absolutely remarkable beauty.  Most Harvard girls were the Jewish type - frizzy hair, fleshy face, tight lips and all twitchy intensity - but Miss Potter was a lithe, graceful, blonde, and blue-eyed woman without a trace of importunity or showy intellect.  

Cummings knew that he should be on the lookout for black inner city women, but he simply couldn't resist the physical charms and graciousness of this patrician, elegant girl.  What was one place in the entering class, after all, and he had had already emptied the ghetto with more than enough LaShondas and Letitias. Abigail would lend a certain classical elegance to the university, a rose among prickly, pushy weeds. 

And so it was that on a fine, warm September day, Abigail took up residence at Harvard, arranged her room in Adams House, and prepared for what she knew would be the experience of a lifetime. 

Her father, uncles, and grandfathers had spoken fondly of Harvard, a place of inquisitive learning, intellectual excellence, art, music, and poetry - the best that a liberal arts education could offer.  They had contributed mightily to the university, were active alumni, and members of the Board. 

Harvard had changed since their day, of course, and was no longer the Bostonian redoubt it once had been.  Affirmative action had cured all that and made Harvard Yard a uniquely diverse place, brimming with all sorts of young people from all over the world, and as such the old ethos of academic and social excellence was sent packing in favor of street experience.  Black people would show their white classmates what's what and would share the reality of the 'hood with them.  

Pharoah Jones, for example, had been a pimp's pimp, learning the trade by the side of the brothers on MLK Avenue, preaching the gospel at the Tabernacle of The Risen Christ, and fighting pit bulls for ready cash. His college boards barely registered on Harvard's scale, and most of his grades were left blank, but Chairman Cummings and the committee saw him as the new direction, the way forward, the first, most ambitious step to reforming Harvard and making it a people's place. 

Mahmoud al-Abbas was a Palestinian from Gaza who had been selected according to Harvard's foreign inclusivity program - a deliberate attempt to put a hold on European applicants and admit people of color from the world's oppressed minorities.  Abbas was, at least in his interviews, a mild-mannered, studious young man who professed an interest in number theory.  He reminded the admissions committee that Arab mathematicians had invented both algebra (an Arabic derived word) and calculus, and he felt honored to carry on in their august tradition. 

Thanks to Harvard's myopic insistence on diversity wherever it was found, this Jew-hating radical was admitted and from day one began his seditious campaign to turn the campus into a pro-Palestinian, anti-Israeli place of protest.  There were enough credulous, faux liberal, diversity wannabees to fill Harvard stadium, so his job would be easy. 

Shmuel Bernstein was the last of the old generation of Talmudic conservative, observant Jews to attend Harvard.  With prayer shawl and tefillin Shmuel was the ur-Jew, a brilliant scholar, violinist, and profound moralist. 

Abigail wasted no time in bedding all three.  Men of color (Jews and Italians, she knew, were in that mix), wherever they are from, are suckers for blonde, blue-eyed white girls, all of them sick and tired of wiry black-haired pussy and longing for that soft silken bower of earthly delights. 

A bit of background here.  Abigail was no easy lay nor was she a Belle de Nuit, an upper class sexual deviant wanting to taste the 'other'.  No, she was a woman of precocious will and sexual ambition - a kind of Hedda Gabler, Rebekka West, and Hilde Wangle, Henrik Ibsen's characters who with ploy, determination, and careful tending made men their subjects. 

Since Abigail, thanks to her remarkable beauty, could have any man she wished - and indeed she had her share of Cabots and Lodges while at Andover - she wanted to play the field, graze on the periphery; and so it was that she headed for terra incognita and the horny, rutting men of the ghetto and the Third World.  

First was Pharoah Jones who despite all his macho pimp-walking and braggadocio had never had a white woman before, cock of the walk only for the sisters of Anacostia.  He was a pussycat when it came to Abigail, a shy, stuttering fool put in his place simply by pure white skin and cerulean blue eyes; and if the truth be known his humping ghetto ways in bed were off-putting to say the least, so, experiment over, Pharoah was left on the curb, begging for small change on Harvard Square, unmanned, a fish out of water. 

Mahmoud al-Abbas, for all his Jesus-like good looks never shut up about Palestine, Gaza, Hamas, and the Jewish devils.  He had a small mind, a smaller dick, and because of his existence shuttering women, he had clue how to treat a lady; and she left him howling, ranting, and raving, the leader of a thousand benumbed Harvard students crying for the extermination of the Jews. Not long after he was left on the curb, ICE came after him shipped him to Guantanamo on the first boat south. 

Finally was Shmuel Bernstein who was so caught up in Talmudic exegesis and Old Testament kabbalah that he rarely paid her any mind.  Yet there was something boyish about him, the spirit of a thirteen year-old singing psalms at his Bar Mitzvah and getting loaded up with presents from Aunt Esther and Uncle Abe.  If this was Jewish, it wasn't so bad. 

And that was only freshman year.  The final three were back to normal.  She studied micro-biology and genetic engineering, graduated Summa Cum Laude with a full academic scholarship to MIT, and along the way returned to the fold of the St. Grottlesex crowd, the Cabots and Lodges, summers on the Vineyard and winter skiing in Gstaad. 

Manipulation? Callous sexual exploitation? Misandry? Nothing of the sort.  A sexual jamboree for the privileged was all, a four year of hijinks and high spirits.  Harvard was most definitely worth it.