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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years ago

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Extra Credit

based on this cause @avhrodite and I were texting, and she told me to write it! so this is for you miss bailey <3

also feedback is always appreciated! literally rb, comment, or an anon ask means the world to fanfic writers, now that tumblr’s algorithm is messed up.

enjoy 7.6k of professor!harry lovelies!

also the intimidating as fuck photo that inspired this, and will be used in the story!

Sexuality Studies. Room 3017.

You had stalled from walking into class with a nervous gut feeling in your stomach with a heavy textbook in your arms, too big to be put in your backpack, but it felt like your book was weighing you down. People were walking around each other to find a vacant seat as you stood there next to the door as you waited till the last minute to walk in and take your seat.

There were a few reasons why you were nervous to walk in. One, it was basically sex class. Your friend had taken the class a few semesters ago, and had told you the basics of it and the rundown. There was a lot of sex talking towards the end.

And although, you’ve had had sex before, you still felt like you were inexperienced. Your sex life was boring, and nonexistent as of a month ago when you broke it off with your, now ex, friends with benefits. He just wasn’t doing the job, like at all. He never made sure you were having a good time or getting off. And that’s just one of the reasons why you broke it off with him. Luckily, he wasn’t mad and didn’t ask questions. Just said ‘oh, okay’ and bid his goodbye. That had made you a bit sad, knowing he didn’t care whatsoever. You two had only been fucking for a month, and the excitement had left your body the first night you slept with him.

The second reason goes along well with the first, and that’s because you aren’t that comfortable. Again, you’ve sex, but you weren’t comfortable in yourself--your sexuality. You never really had time or experience to explore your body or others because you’ve only slept with two people. In that sense, you didn’t know what you liked sexually and what your partner liked, other than blowjobs, handjobs, and being able to cum while fucking you. But there was more to it; you wanted the details, the ticks, sensitive spots, everything. But you’ve slept with lousy frat boys who didn’t care enough to ask if you had finished.

You checked your phone for the time, seeing that you have about two minutes before you have to go in. You take a deep breath, walking over to the opposite side of the wall, preparing yourself to walk in. You don’t know why it was so hard for you to just walk in and sit down. The thought of having to sit through an hour and a half class that is mainly about sex isn’t that hard to deal with either, but your insecurities and anxiety is getting the better of you. With a couple of neck rolls and inhales to deep exhales, you were ready before you heard a voice next to you.

“Nervous about the first day?” You look up to find an incredibly attractive man smiling down at you. His smile had made you blush and his intent eye contact had made you nervous. The way he just looks insanely sexy, and you think his hair is better than yours. He wears a simple button down shirt with two birds next to the collar, along with black jeans and boots. And you think, he’s so good looking and dresses well too. For a student, you don’t see anyone dress or look like him at all.

“Uh, kinda? I don’t know,” you say as you are not quite sure what to answer, so you said the easiest thing that didn’t have to do with how you’re feeling right now.

“No need to be nervous. This semester will go by quickly and I heard the professor is really cool too,” the man says with a reassuring smile, and you felt a bit better because he was right. This class would be a breeze and then you wouldn’t have to retake it, unless you fail.

“Yeah, you’re right. Thank you. Uh, do you want to sit next to me?” You made the bold move to ask him, and it had shocked you. You never made the first move, but you figured that you needed more friends anyways.

“Oh, thank you, but can’t do that. Let’s go in, shall we?” He waves his hand out, leading you to go first.

You cheeks were filled with embarrassment, thinking that your bold move was a stupid move. Of course, he didn’t want to sit next to you. He barely knows you. You roll your eyes at yourself, making your way to the first row as all the seats behind the front row were taken, and you didn’t want to take the time to look around. You take a seat as your head sank lower from awkwardness you had felt, and you set your book down on the desk and heard your professor speak.

“Hello, class. Welcome to ‘Sexuality Studies.’ I’m Professor Styles. Shall we get started?” Your mouth had been open the entire time he was introducing himself. Shocked was an understatement as you didn’t realize you were talking to your professor outside of the class, but that hadn’t made your embarrassing moment less worse.

How did you not realize that? You should’ve seen it coming because you were thinking about how no student on campus dresses or looks the way he does, and you didn’t think to put the pieces together.

But, fuck.

He was sexy as a ‘student’, but as the professor, that was a different story. You had felt the weird feeling in your stomach, triggering your arousal as you watched him talk to the entirety of the class about what’s to be expected. You turned around slightly and observed the room; noticing that most of the class were girls and there were a few guys, but the female population dominated the class. All the girls had hearts in their eyes, twirling, and biting their lip as they stared at their new professor; probably hoping they would get some extra credit in the middle of the semester to raise their grade or purposefully failing their test so he can call them into his office and they can have classic office sex.

The thought had made your eyes roll. Not at the thought of office sex because everyone knows that’s hot, but the thought of purposefully doing horrible in the class to fuck the professor is beyond you.

The class had gone by rather quickly, Professor Styles only talking about the basics of what everyone is going to learn such as culture, biological, health, anatomy, art, etc.

You walked out of the class in a hurry, not looking at your new professor and anticipated the next time you’ll meet.

The month had gone by rather smoothly, only taking two classes for the semester, so your workload isn’t too bad. The occasional thought about thinking your professor was a student had haunted you, and you think about it a bit more than you would like; feeling quite embarrassed and you’d hope that he had forgotten all about it.

You were sat at the coffee shop, head in your laptop and notes that you had taken during lecture as you were starting on your paper that is due in a little over two weeks. You were so into your introduction that your fingers were typing away on their own, that you didn't feel the presence of someone beside you.

“Hi. You’re in my sexuality class, right?” A voice from your right becomes present, and you look up, seeing your incredibly attractive professor looking down at you with a smile. There was no way in getting out of this one.

“Yes. Mr. Styles, hi,” you say nervously, but trying your best to hide it with your smile.

“Thought I recognized ya. How are you?”

“I’m doing well. I’m actually working on your paper right now,” you chuckle a bit.

“Are ya? What are you writing it on?” You get a bit sidetracked, realizing that he’s still standing and all of your stuff sits on the opposite side of the table. You reach over to move it onto your lap.

“You can sit if you’d like,” you offer. Harry debates for a second, and sees that there’s no harm in sitting with your student, so he gladly takes the seat across from you. “But I’m writing it on the fine line between masculinity and femininity.”

“Ahh, yes. That’s one of my favorite topics that we discussed,” he says.

“Yeah, me too. Pretty important for this day in age.”

“I’m right there with ya,” he agrees.

For the next 20 minutes, you and Harry talk about some main points. Discussing and going over what ideas you had in mind as Harry listens while nodding his head. He notices how passionate you are with the topic of your paper, and he appreciates the passion. Students will lazily write this paper, and it really shows in their work that makes him a bit disappointed because he had thought that he made the class fun; adding a few jokes and having the student participate with the lecture.

But listening to you talk about all the ideas that you wrote down; so far from the earth as you keep talking as he listens intently to you. You’re a sweet person, he’s noticed. You don’t participate all that much in class, but he figured that’s because you’re just a tad bit shy. And he’s still amused at the fact that you thought he was a student, which flattered him. But in all honesty, he can pass as one, and it wasn’t the first time someone mistaken him for a student.

Just as you were finished talking, a hint of pink made your cheeks flushed as you realized you were talking quite a bit, and keeping him from doing whatever he was supposed to. “I’m sorry. I tend to talk a lot when I get into things.”

“Hey, no need to apologize. I’m glad you told me your ideas because I think they’re great.” He checks the time on his phone and sees that he should get going, and his coffee cup is empty already. “But I should get going. Don’t hesitate to ask me about anything for the paper. I’ll see you in class.”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles. Have a great rest of your day,” you bid him goodbye as he softly says ‘you too.’

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Although you had been comfortable talking to him, you have never actually had a close conversation with any of your professors, really. Especially not outside of campus. But you really did feel comfortable. You figured that it’s because Harry is in a way, younger than most professors—at least he looks young.

The rest of your time at the coffee shop was spent finishing up the second paragraph and your coffee before you head back to your apartment.

The paper was due in a week, and you felt confident about turning it in on time and doing a great job on it. But that did not stop you from going into Mr. Styles’ office during his office hours, and he did say not to hesitate to ask if you had any questions, so you were using that to your advantage to make your paper even better.

He was surprised to see you just after two days of seeing him at the coffee shop that happened the week prior; asking him how to rephrase some things and seeing where some ideas fit into the paragraphs that are already written. And Harry happily helped you. Although he thinks you don’t need help at all, seeing as you’re right on track on the topic.

But you had felt a sudden surge of confidence that has never hit you before. And you can tell yourself that you’re comfortable enough to ask him questions all you want, but in reality, you wanted to keep talking to him and most importantly, keep seeing him.

He had this sense of comfort to him that made you feel safe. You never felt the awkward tension that there is in when talking to other professors, and you were glad for it. Mr. Styles had made it a safe space for his students to talk to him. And aside from asking him about school related things, you two had gotten to know each other after the important questions were asked. The conversations were harmless, and you looked forward to them everytime.

A knock was heard on his office door and he told whoever was behind it to come in. You walked in with a smile, laptop and notebook held to your chest, walking in slowly as you closed the door behind you.

“Hi, Mr. Styles. Are you busy?”

He shakes his head, “no, no. How can I help you?” Harry had—and was still trying—to keep it professional between you two. And although nothing had happened, he can’t help but stop the flutter of his heart when you would walk in his class or his office as you gave him a small that he adored. He also noticed how concentrated you are during class; making sure to take every single note and word that he says, making him smile at the thought.

“Uh, I was kind of stuck on something that I could definitely use your help with.”

“Sure thing. That’s what I’m here for,” he gives you a smile, and you open your notebook, showing him the many marks and scribbles that you had planted out when brainstorming.

“So I came up with this idea because I thought it would be important to talk about the history of masculinity and femininity. I didn’t want to just talk about the modern times as of now. But maybe research how it affected people back in the day when they weren’t acting as their…assigned sexuality, as you could say.”

“That sounds great. You can talk about that and during the times of the first pride march. That would definitely be interesting. But I would say not to go too into it, it’s a pretty straightforward topic, and there’s just a lot that is covered during those times. Just so you don’t get too ahead of yourself,” he gives his opinion. You listen carefully and take in his words as if you’re making a mental list of things you should and shouldn’t write about.

“Sounds good. Thank you.”

“Is that all?”

“Yeah, I think so. Just wanted to ask you that,” you say as you close your notebook, but not getting up to leave yet.

“Okay, can I ask you something this time?”

“Uh, sure,” you respond nervously.

“I see that you’re pretty much on track of the paper, like you know what you’re talking about. And you seem really confident in what you want to say, which is good. And I’m all ears when it comes to students wanting feedback, but I just have to ask….” anxiety boils through your throat. “Is coming to see me practically 2 or 3 times a week have to do with your paper?” You take a deep inhale, but don’t let your breath loose. He read you extremely well, you have to say. And it was a bold move on Harry’s part to ask that because if you say the opposite, then he assumed pretty hard.

You finally let go of the breath you were holding in and answered, “no.”

“No. It doesn’t have to do with your paper?” You shake your head in confirmation. “Then what does it have to do with?” He asks, and you think he definitely already knows what’s going on, but needs you to say the words.

“I just…wanted to see you,” you say softly.

“And why is that?” At this point, he’s teasing you already. Probably wanting to make a fool out of yourself so he could go home and laugh about it to his girlfriend or boyfriend, which you assume he has. And the bold assumption that you had thought he felt that pull towards you was enough to make you feel embarrassed for the second time in front of him.

But the remains of the confidence were still pooling in your head, and you figured you had nothing to lose.

“I wanted to see you because… I can’t deny this attraction I feel towards you. And it’s not based solely on your looks either because no can hide the fact that you’re insanely attractive, but I’ve gotten to know you for who you are this past week and we had some good talks, which was nice because no one has ever gotten to know me well enough for me to fall for them within a week.”

You finish your confession with a straight face, but there was still a hint of hope that he would tell you he felt the same way.

“And on the topic of no one getting to know me, and this is a sexuality class and you’ve recently started talking about sex; I’ve never truly had the chance to explore with partners sexually and explore my sexuality more in depth than just someone sticking their dick inside me, and calling it good sex. So, you talking to me and getting to know me means a lot because no one wants to waste their time on what I like and what I’m into.”

You had said a mouthful, and it can be heard as inappropriate to say that to your professor, but again, why would a sexuality teacher judge you based on your past sex life?

A minute had passed that immediately felt like an hour. The only thing that was heard was the ticking of the wall clock, and that made the tension even more unbearable.

You get up from out of the chair, “I’m gonna go. Thanks for the help, Mr Styles.”

Before you reach for the door, he finally decides to speak, “Wait.” You turn around slowly and watch him get up from his chair, and walk towards you. His eyes are dark, and they don’t leave yours as he reaches you.

The proximity is close enough that you could lean forward and be pressed up against his chest, but you’re afraid that you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself if you do that.

“You’ve fallen for me?” Is the thing that he could respond with after all that you’ve said.

“Yes. I’ve developed a crush on you, well, more than a crush because I do like you,” you say as you look up at him. He looks down at you intently, lips rolled into his mouth. He smells amazing from how close you are, that it’s like a potion that keeps luring you in, wanting more.

“Do ya?”

“I think I make myself pretty clear on that,” you respond with a bit of sass.

“Don’t give me attitude,” his tone changed to dominant, and a pool in your panties made itself present.

“What are you gonna do about it, Mr Styles?” You test, and move closer to him, lips almost touching. You can possibly reach up and your lips will be in sync. A smirk comes to play on his face as if you’ve made the wrong move, but you’re so ready for what’s to come.

And for a split second, it looked like he was leaning in a tad bit to go in for a kiss, but retracts back. “I’ll see you in my next class.” With that, he pulls back and walks back to his chair.

You’re left stunned, mouth slightly open, surprised he didn’t make a move. He didn’t even tell you if he felt the same way, and if it were any other day, you would’ve felt extremely sad, but there was so much tension in the room you needed to go home and take care of yourself.

And that’s what you did.

Once you got back home, you ran a bath for yourself and sat in it as you ran over your skin, leading to where you ached the most. Many thoughts of Mr. Styles doing this to you as he sat behind you in the bath, knowing that you would make a mess on his long fingers and pretty hands. And that definitely helped you reach our orgasm as you moan out his name, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly odd about it.

You finally turned in your paper on the last day it was due, and you were extremely happy with it. You added the history of not acting like your original self, taking Mr. Styles’ advice and not going too in depth with it. This has marked as a halfway point to graduating with your bachelors, and you were ecstatic.

It had also been a week since the tension filled scene that had happened in your professor’s office, and you haven’t been back since. Seeming as you didn’t need to since there were no needed assignments, but you had thought you would visit him in his office everyday after what you had confessed.

It didn’t get easier sitting in his class as he stood up in front of everyone looking so hot as he wore a crisp blue button down with a polka dot tie, and a pink blazer over it. He knew your secret. He knew that you had the hots for him. And he knew that he didn’t say anything to reciprocate those feelings. And you tried very hard not to let it get to you.

The lecture had ted to your paper topic: masculinity and femininity. But this time, it was open for class discussion. You weren’t big on talking in class; just preferred listening to everyone’s opinions and making your own in your head, but the ignorance that someone had made you argue with him.

“I personally feel like men should stay on the masculinity side, and women on the femininity side.” You had turned around to see the guy who had said that. He was wearing a football jersey of the university, laughing with his two friends.

“And why do you think that?” Mr Styles follows up.

“It’s simple. You shouldn’t act as if you’re someone you’re not-”

“That makes a good point in your argument though,” you interrupt, turning in your seat to look at the jock at the top. “You shouldn’t act like someone you’re not, so why would you act like someone you don’t want to be?” The guy had shut up, making you smirk. “I just think that being masculine and feminine as your biological gender is a social construct. It just takes away the substance of that person when people look down on them for being true to themselves. So, why does masculinity only apply to men, and femininity only apply to women?”

Harry smirks at your discussion. It had surprised him that you spoke up in his class, but it didn’t surprise him when you spoke up about this topic. You had definitely shut down his other student, and he was proud of you for that.

The class was dismissed and as you were making your way towards the door, someone stopped you.

“Hey, really great argument back there.” It was the ignorant jock.

“Thanks.” You walked out of the class to get out of everyone’s way, stopping at the wall across from the class.

“I didn’t mean to sound so douchey back there, but what you said really got me thinking, and I see where you’re coming from.”

“I’m glad. You learn something new everyday…”

Harry was watching you the entire time you left your seat to when his student stopped you to have a chat. He had thought you were going to shut him down for being ignorant, but he saw you smile and laugh a little, making him breath deeply as he glared at you, brows furrowed, and coffee cup in his hand. Harry then sees him take out his phone, obvious that he’s asking for his number and he sees you blush as you talk.

Harry tries to control his breathing, and in another world, steam would be coming out of his ears. He walks towards the door, thinking that he was going to call you into his class, but decides against it and shuts the door.

It was already nearing the end of the semester, and you have yet to talk to him.

If it wasn’t for the fact that you had slightly gotten over his unreciprocated feelings, you would have probably dropped out of the class and waited another semester to finish. But you couldn’t let him do that to you; you were way too close to the finish line.

Mr. Styles was in his final topic of speaking about the fun part of sex, and how it could be pleasurable. He talked about the anatomy of it at first, moving onto the techniques. And the techniques he used on how to pleasure a woman and man had you hot in your seat. He demonstrated using his finger, showing the class the way to finger someone, and you couldn’t help but cross your legs. And you were sure everyone was doing so as well.

The simple demonstration of his fingers making a curling motion as if he’s fingering someone made you clench. You had been right about his fingers bringing you to pleasure, and all you wanted to do was rush home and imagine it again since you have a full visual.

“Okay, class. I have an extra credit opportunity for you.” The class perks up at that. You had a low A in the class, and although you were confident about the final, you didn’t want to risk it, so you listened.

“Since this is a sexuality class, I hoped I didn’t make anyone uncomfortable on what I just did,” the class laughed a bit, and you smiled. “For this extra credit, I want you to go to a sex store and buy a toy that can be pretty much anything. Come back and show me, and I will mark you down for points. I don’t require a paper on this, so it is fairly easy, but this is to show that you should be comfortable in your sexuality, and walking into a sex store should be easy for you because there’s nothing wrong with that whatsoever because everyone has needs and if someone judges you, then they’re not getting laid.” The class laughs again. “You can return it if you want after I mark you down or you can keep it. A win win for everyone! Okay, class dismissed.”

You walked out of class with a smile on your face as Mr Styles lightened up everyone’s mood as everyone was stressing for finals. You were glad for it; the weight on your shoulders were still heavy, but a good laugh was needed.

You had two weeks to buy and show him the extra credit, and two weeks until you graduated. The days were counting down at this point, and before you knew it, it was the final week.

You had passed both of your finals with flying colors, and you had the rest of the week to finally relax as you were graduating at the end of the week. The apartment was a mess, and you finally had time to tidy it up a bit; fix the mess of papers on your kitchen table and put your laundry away. You also used that time to finally go out and get your extra credit.

It would be a lie if you had told yourself that you were too lazy to go out and actually buy your extra credit assignment, but that was far from the truth. If you had energy to get up and clean around your home, then you could have easily gotten up and buy a sex toy.

But it was the anxious feeling that you had that you were going to see him so up close, and actually get to talk to him again that stopped you.

The crush on your professor hadn’t died done any less, but it hadn’t increased either. You were stuck in a plateau of not getting over him and not falling for him more. You figured it’s because you see him every week, so you were hoping by this time, you were on your way to getting over him.

You made your way into the sex shop with nerves as you haven’t been into one before, and it was a very relaxed set up. Various of sex toys used for both genders were set against the wall, and a red curtain that led to something in the back that, you assumed, was the more extreme items.

You scanned the toys, figuring that it would be easy to just get a vibrator. Your hands shook as you went to grab the boxed toy, and you remembered Mr Styles’ words; there’s no reason to be ashamed in buying any of these, and that relaxed you.

The employee who rang you up was the sweetest. She greeted you with a bubbly smile, and told you that you had made a great choice because she has the same one. You didn’t tell her that it was for a school thing, because that would sound really weird, and you didn’t tell her that you were planning on returning it later on.

You drove to campus, hoping that Mr Styles was in his office. The drive was a 30 minute drive as you lived a bit far from the school, but you didn’t mind the drive.

Harry heard a knock on his office door, telling them to enter. His eyes perked up as you made yourself present as you opened the door. His heart was beating in his chest as he saw you; remembering the last time you were in his office and missing the presence of you being close again.

“Hi. How are you?” He pointed to the chair, and you sat down. Your heart was pounding as well, feeling nervous about being in his office again.

“I’m doing good. How are you?”

“I’m well, thanks. What can I do for you?” He asks politely. You reach into your bag and grab the box to show him your extra credit assignment. “Ahh,” he lets out as he sees the box. “Perfect. Let me mark you down for that.”

“Thank you,” you say as you put the toy back inside your bag. “Can I ask how I did on the final? If you’ve already finished grading it.”

“Yes. You did really well, actually,” he says as he shuffles through his papers, looking for the grade book. “Ah, here. You got a 95.” That made you smile. You were quite confident for the final, but hearing that you did well brightened up your day. “And that boosted up your grade to a 94, plus the extra credit, that will go up to a 97.”

Your eyes widened; you had passed both classes with an A, and you were extremely excited about that; and it takes everything in you to not jump up and scream. “Wow, thank you.”

“No need to thank me. You deserve it. I’m proud of you,” he smiles at you, and your heart swoons, telling him a thank you. “You graduate at the end of the week right?” You nod. “Excited?”

“Very. I really only needed to take this class, but I was putting it off because my friend took this course and said it was pretty sexual, and that made me a bit uncomfortable if I’m being honest. But I really enjoyed this class…you made it bearable.” Harry blushes, thinking how happy he is that you took the class with him.

“Well, I’m happy you enjoyed it,” he says .

There was silence that washed over you two with the slightest bit of tension; debating if either one should bring up what happened the last time you were in his office. You were feeling so many things at the moment, and he was too, but you were sure it was inappropriate to talk about it when technically, nothing even happened.

“I should get going,” you say instead.

“Sure thing. I’ll see you…uh, around,” he says hesitantly. You tell him goodbye and walk out of his office, probably the last time you would ever see him.

You had finally graduated, and you couldn’t be more happy and proud for yourself. A relieved feeling ran through you when you had put on your cap and gown, and the thought made you tear up. You were done, for now, before you had to go to grad school and get your masters degree. But either way, you were ecstatic.

Now a week has gone by since graduation, and you decided to do some errands. You also needed to make your way to the sex shop and return your item.

As you entered the door you had walked through once before, your eyes immediately spotted the familiar man who had made your heart flutter by the simple act of eye contact. And if it was by instincts, Harry turns his head towards the door and sees you standing at the entrance. He hadn’t seen you since the time in his office and he saw you walk for graduation, if that counts.

There was no way of avoiding him, so you walked over to him. “Hi, Mr Styles.”

“You know you don’t have to call me that anymore. You graduated already,” he smirks, and you chuckle.

“Then what should I call you?”

Yours. “Harry.”

You tilt your head to the side, seeing how fitting his name is on him. “Okay, Harry. What are you doing here anyways?” The question had slipped out of your mouth, but you think that there’s nothing awkward with it.

“Oh, uh, just looking for a cock ring,” he says honestly. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m actually returning my extra credit purchase,” you chuckle.

“Are ya? Why don't you keep it?”

“I don’t know…I actually never used a toy before, and I got a bit intimidated by it.” Harry nods understandingly.

“See, a win win for everyone. You either get your money back or you get a nice orgasm out of it,” he laughs, and you agree with him.“I think you should keep it. This is the time you get to explore your sexuality.” You debate a bit. He was right, and you did have some spare time as of now, so you decided to keep it; see what this thing can really do.

“If you’d like…would you like to get some lunch with me?” He asks, taking you out of your thoughts.

Your eyes brighten. “Of course.”

It was like you were waiting for this moment to come. You had waited for him to ask you out and properly get to know each other outside of school. Harry had taken you to a small shop that sold burgers and fries, and you two sat in the patio of the shop; talking, eating, and laughing at stories you told each other.

“Can I ask you something?” He nods, nervously. “When I told you I liked you in your office that one time, why didn’t you say anything back?”

“To be honest, I was nervous. You’re 22 and I’m six years older than you, and although that didn’t matter much to me, you were on the edge of graduating. I couldn’t risk that, even with how much I like you. The thought of getting caught and losing your chance to graduate, and possibly your acceptance for your masters, would just be selfish on my part because I couldn’t keep it in my pants… So I waited until you graduated; didn’t even know if I was going to see you again if I’m honest.”

You understood well on why he didn’t do anything to reciprocate his feelings, and you were grateful he didn’t until now.

By the end of it, you didn’t want the day to end so you invited him to your apartment.

You two sat on your couch, which thankfully you cleaned the place before, and talked some more and put on a movie. You two were inching closer to one another until you both were cuddling. You had rested your legs on his as he runs his fingers over your ankles, scratching your skin lightly.

You were breathing heavily, wanting to just make more than just innocent touches. As if Harry read your mind, he turned his head to look at you; a striking look in his eyes as you both look at each other. The air was heavy, sexual tension coming in hot.

“Harry…”

“Yes, love?”

“Kiss me.”

Harry wastes no time in connecting his lips with yours. The softness of your lips meeting his is enough to drive him crazy. The pull you have on his hair makes him let out a moan into your mouth as you whimper into his. Chests are pulled close together, but not close enough as the hold on each other is tight; afraid one might let go.

Harry found himself in your bedroom, and it seemed like he blanked out during that time. Your kisses probably just pulled him into another world, where he debated if this was real life or if he was dreaming it. It was all real, but it was lovely to dream about.

You sat on the bed as you continued to kiss while Harry was standing above you; him leaning down and you reaching up. You were close to his hard on, and it took everything in him not to drop his pants and have you taste him, but it wasn’t going to be about him.

This is going to be about you.

You’d managed to get both of your shirts off, wanting yourself bare and to see his chest. You were surprised with the amount of tattoos that littered his skin. It was beautiful and raw, and him. You went to press a kiss to the butterfly on his stomach; the only one you can reach, and trailing down to the vines on his hips. Harry throws his head back, loving the feeling of your lips on his. You reach for his pants and before you can fully unbutton, he stops you.

“No, no. Tonight’s about you, baby,” he says as his face is close to yours and he kisses the tip of your nose. You nod slightly, feeling yourself blush; and he pushes your shoulder back so you’re fully laying down on your bed. “You want this, right?” Your head nods quickly, enough to make yourself dizzy. “Need words, love.”

“Yes. I want this so bad.” The words come out quickly, eagerly. Harry smirks at your response, and kisses down your stomach towards the hem of your pants.

He fully removes your bottoms, only leaving your panties, and Harry thinks that you’re just a sight. “God, baby, you’re so beautiful,” he says smiling. His words made you blush, shying away from him by turning your head. “Nuh uh, don’t get shy on me now, my love. It’s just me. You’re comfortable with me, right?”

“Of course,” you respond, remembering that he prefers words rather than gestures.

“I’m glad.”

He continues kissing along the hem of your panties, teasing you slightly by dragging his tongue along your skin. The feeling makes you whimper and buck your hips slightly; wanting more than his kisses.

The fast motion of your panties swiftly being removed catches you off guard as you look down and see Harry looking at your bare pussy with hungry eyes. “Look at you. Fuck.” It takes everything in him to not devour you right then and there, but he wanted this moment to last and for you to enjoy yourself. He has been waiting for this moment the first time you walked into his office, and he couldn’t wait to get a taste of you.

“Harry…” you whimper.

“Yes?”

“Please just lick me already.”

Harry kneels on the floor, kissing your inner thighs before taking one long lick up your pussy. The feeling of his tongue makes you moan out loud from the built up tension that you’ve been filled up with since the beginning of the semester.

“Fuck, so good,” he says, going in for another lick, but doesn’t stop this time. He takes your clit into his mouth, sucking on it as well as giving it kitten licks. Your hands fall to his hair as you tug, and your face falls to the side as you try and drown your moans against the mattress.

You continue moaning, but they’re muffled and Harry looks up at you. “No, none of that. Don’t hide away your moans. Wanna hear ya, baby. Let me know I’m licking you up just right--just how you like it,” he says and gets back to eating you out. You give him an ‘okay’ before wailing out in pleasure.

The thought had surprised you as you’ve never been with anyone who made sure you were feeling good and alright. And you absolutely loved it.

Harry’s fingers enter you, pumping and curling and finding your g spot. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Who got you this wet?” He teases.

“You.”

“I did?”

“Yes. You, Mr Styles.” Although you have been calling that more than you called him Harry, his name coming out of your mouth as you’re a moaning mess makes his cock even harder. He stares at you above him with dark eyes and nibbles on the skin of your inner thighs.

“You say you wanna explore? That no one has ever taken the time to make you feel good? Is that right, baby?” He says as he continues fucking you with his fingers.

“Mhm. No one has ever fucked me good enough for me to stay,” you say in an innocent and teasing tone, knowing that Harry will be the exact person that will do that for you.

“How about we have a little fun? With a certain vibrator of yours that you decided not to return? Do ya want that?”

“God, yes please.” Harry kisses your stomach, up to your chest, and then your lips before his fingers slip out and he walks over to unbox the new vibrator. It was a vibrator that you were able to put inside you as it stimulated your clit, and Harry has been dying to use one on you the second you showed it to him for extra credit. You heard the toy turn on as Harry played with the settings.

“Ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

Harry sets the vibrations to the lowest setting as he starts to tease your clit with it; slowly circling around it as you moan out from the new sensation. “Does that feel good? Do you want more?”

“Please. Give me more,” you say as you palm him over his underwear, but he pushes you away. “Baby, you’re hard. Let me touch you, please,” you plead.

“This is all about you, so be a good girl and just enjoy this,” he says and you close your eyes, waiting for what’s to come. Harry sets the setting a bit higher. The setting is on a medium level, more stimulations to your clit as Harry moves the toy around. “Holy shit, that feels so good,” you throw your head back onto the bed.

“Yeah? Good thing I told you to keep it. You can use this when I’m not here to fuck you, unless I tell you not to touch yourself and have you wait until I stuff myself in your tight pussy.” The dirty talk is driving you wild along with the vibrator. “Gonna put it higher,” he says and doesn’t wait for you to answer.

“Oh my...fuck!” The setting is at its highest along with the part of the toy that is inside you; Harry moving the toy around a bit so it can thrust inside of you. You’re completely thrashing around on the sheets, and Harry has to physically spread your legs apart as you keep trying to close them.

Harry lays beside you, kissing your chest and taking your pebbled nipple into his mouth and sucking on it. Your hand naturally finds his hair and pulls on it as you bring his face to yours, and he gives you a solid kiss. You hold him against you as there were no movements of your lips with his; just the touch of your lips together as you try to control your moans.

As you two part, you scream out, “I’m gonna fucking cum!”

“C’mon, let go for me, baby. Cum for me,” Harry encourages you.

After a few more thrusts and vibrations to your clit, your orgasm washes over you and hits you hard. Your back arched, and you turned, still feeling the stimulation from the toy.

“There ya go. That’s it,” Harry says as he slowly pulls the toy out and replacing it with his hand, gently cupping over you and feeling your wetness as you come down from your high. Your moans have been controlled, and you started whimpering from how powerful your peak was. “You’re okay. Shh. You’re okay, baby.”

You buried your face into Harry’s neck, and he scratches your back, calming you down. After a moment, you lift your head up and lazily smile at Harry, causing him to giggle a bit and kiss you. The kiss didn’t last long nor was it deepened; it was a sweet and loving kiss, and a thank you to him.

“Was that okay?” He asks.

“That was fucking amazing. Never came like that before,” you tell him honestly.

“Well, I’m glad,” he kisses your lips briefly as he couldn’t get enough of them.

“So…” you trail off.

“So…” he repeats.

“Do I get my extra credit?” You ask in a playful manner, and he laughs loud making your heart flutter over the beautiful sound of his laugh.

“Oh, baby. You get more than extra credit.”

feedback here <3

MASTERLIST

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linos-teeth · 5 years ago

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[1/3] aaa so sorry i didnt realize you answered!! (when is tumblr ever gonna.let.me breathe.i canT EVEN POST ANYTHING THATS BULLSHIT) ermmm so are you in uni now? And wellll hope everything's still fine and that the person hitting you with a stick when you talk bad abt urself is doing a good job! But yeah i understand there's a different pov abt coolness and stuff but uh dont wanna sound discouraged but i waS riGhT we're not rlly friends---

[2/3] but i mean i talk to more ppl in my class and i didnt eat alone too much this week? but dont wanna get my hopes too high you know-that sounds depressing hahahavdjg sorry- + uh we're going to slovakia in early march (we dont speak Slovakian but they learn french and we'll learn abt other cultures which is good since we're in the art section??)- Yay ig- but i'll prob have a girl (thanks mom for not letting me choOsE and NoT acknowledging me being a gUY- fuck you mOm) as a penfriend?

[3/3] Which wouldnt be a problem if i didnt have to share thE sAmE bed with her when they come to france. im already feeling deeply uncomfortable with that but i just cant argue w/ my mom uH i guess i'll find a way or smth (like; coming out AGAIN TO HER (spoiler alert: am too much of a coward to do that a second time so prob wont do)) and just ask her what she's comfortable with- sorry that's probably confusing and uninteresting hdjzvdjx- but tell me about your week?? Or how you're doing! :') 💕

MY DUDE PLEASE DON’T APOLOGISE i’m 100% the worst person to be an anon for with the time i take to answer so rly!! dw abt it but if u want i can like.....rb my replies a day after or so in case u didn’t see?

i’m not at uni yet and there’s been complications :/// i think i told u abt sending the documents but now i have no clue if they got them bc i feel like i should’ve gotten confirmation and the deadline’s long over but i didn’t and now on monday i’ll call there and hope to find out so until then i will just Fear ajhskfjasf it’s fun. but if nothing goes rly wrong i should start there in 2 weeks!! i’ll still be around, more maybe bc i won’t have too many classes and will prolly need smth to procrastinate ;) pls also make me write when that time comes i need. TO WRITE

but yeah that’s how my week has been going.......not great and like not a lot of progress but hey i started a new series so that’s fun!! and i actually giffed??? wow

tbh somehow you always catch me when i have one of my tumblr crises you must have an extra sense for that jfhaksfjasf or maybe i just.....have them a lot which is true tbh. but the stick hitting person is doing amazing and is being so supportive baby if by chance u read this ty!!! u save me i’ve been losing followers these days so i’m kinda scared i’ve been fucking up somehow or that i’ve peaked (which isn’t wrong but i’m still scared) but yeah i’m working on not letting it get to me too hard kinda

uhhhhh??? why would she not want to be friends excuse me (says the one who is literally unable to maintain friendships irl as soon as school/uni is over) either u are friends or u aren’t!! i say she’s missing out for sure. i feel you tbh like?? i’m big loner and i lost count of the times i ate alone (on purpose too tho bc i’m too scared to have ppl around me ESP WATCH ME EAT WTF WHAT IF I’M DISGUSTING) but!!! talking sounds good fuck that’s some brave shit ♥

slovakia sounds fancy!!! i remember getting these ads on tv for it all the time (ads for a country feel so weird but i guess they’re a thing here?? ok) i hope you get to see a lot of cool things!! it’s so amazing when u get the opportunity to go places with school imo bc like....how else will u get around sajskshkfjasf i wish u a great time in advance and like....when u get back maybe u can tell me a bit abt it!! i hope things work out with the lang barrier but i suppose if everything else fails there’s still english? also tell me more abt ur penfriend once u get them that’s so cool!! sucks abt the girl thing but then again i personally think it’s big bs to separate by gender in this day and age like relax.........the mere fact that a person of the opposite gender is in the room with you doesn’t make u have sex with them does it now even if they fit ur general bill attraction wise

but you shouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable ofc :/// that’s just shitty how long would it be for? i rly hope you can sort things out with her if it’s a girl!! the coming out again option sounds kinda stressful yeah fjhsfkjashfkas i mean if u had the guarantee she’d understand but?? if you already did it once that’s......messy i’m rly sorry

dw tho!! it wasn’t confusing or uninteresting it’s what ur doing rn and how u feel and i like hearing abt that!! i wish u the best of luck and like....more decent ppl hopefully and a good evening/weekend ♥

#this is a big spam again i apologise my friend #but here u go!!!#ask #💕 anon #Anonymous

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magicarasa · 8 years ago

Text

CFAC 02 Season 2 Entries - Part 1

Lothorewyn, the Corrupted by velinov

The tree isn’t the only horrifying thing this week--my schedule has been frightening and has kept me from delving into the awesome selection of designs I’ve received. I’m excited to get to show you all what’s been submitted this week. The story elements are really coming through and this tree is proving itself worthy of scaring denizens all over the multiverse.

@aethernalstars

Originally i was gonna do something involving zubera from Kamigawa but there’s just not enough to design with from them. However that did lead me to the idea that the tree was formed from a bunch of pieces of spirits, similar to the kin-trees of Tarkir. So if we have anafenza the nice tree, why not a pissed off tree made of all the other spirits? Thus Abzan, who I couldn’t think of a better name for, but i think fits, given Tarkir’s current state, with the forgotten clans and all.

It’s definitely easy to see a more dangerous take on the kin-tree business, especially if you consider one possible twisting of that tradition when forced into hiding. This design has some weird complication going on and it’s all the result of that second ability. What is so important about this the +1/+1 counters being denied half of what they do and this tree being an N/5 barring other toughness boosting effects? The first ability is fine and while I think green usually gets it (not certain on that as it isn’t seen often), it’s fair in black or probably white too. That last ability is cool and seems well-balanced to me. The weird part is that it doesn’t synergize too well with spirits. They don’t typically have a lot of +1/+1 counter play so while that was an Abzan thing, this card is screaming EDH Spirit tribal to me. Which isn’t strong, but could still be fun. If we drop the second ability, it could be replaced with something as simple as “Other Spirit creatures you control enter the battlefield with a +1/+1 counter.” Effectively building on Spirits and making them benefit with the rest of the card.

Two points!

@amtgplayer

It is all in the name: this is a corrupted version of Kodama of the Center Tree, caring about cards in the graveyard rather than creatures on the battlefield. I am not quite sure how exactly would Kodama become corrupted (not too familiar with Japanese mythology), but apparently many entities in the Japanese mythology are very double-faced, so I think this is definitely possible.

This is a cool and relatively simple shift. It feels like something you could see in Planar Chaos. Without a Standard or Limited environment to judge these cards in, I tend to lean toward EDH as the place to look at these cards. This one wants you to play black Spirit tribal as well (or else run Conspiracy) and while you have enough spirits to put one together, they generally just aren’t terribly powerful. Pus Kami has some synergy here. This also plays into black graveyard play and allows you to nuke the board and get stuff back, all the strengths of soulshift, especially in black. That said, any Standard or Limited environment with a number of good Spirits is in a position for this card to shine.

Two points!

@dimestoretajic

Me: *sitting at work, working on some stuff that doesn’t require a lot of attention*

Me: Is there anything I forgot to do? I feel like I forgot somethi-SUBMITTING MY CARD RIGHT RIGHT RIGHT

Anyhoo! Morinsün (derived from the Mongolian phrase “muu yoryn süns”, meaning evil spirit) is a literal and figurative monster. Obviously, because I wanted it to be in both Abzan and Mardu colours (they’re my two favourite Tarkir clans, so this one was right in my wheelhouse), it had to be four colours, and as far as I can tell (not that hard since Saskia and the nephilim are the only cards in these colours), Blueless is a “combat damage matters” set of colours. So I gave it the stuff it’s got… and then I accidentally added “combat” to the first ability, then realized that probably balanced things out anyway, and kept it. If I should have put it back, let me know, but I think it keeps it from being SEVERELY OP. Have a great day!

Glad you got it in! This is an interesting way to produce tokens and while this is probably RB overall in its abilities, it still manages to feel WBRG to me. Limiting it to combat damage seems fine. What’s weird to me is the defender bit. I understand why a tree might have that. But combined with the combat damage it means it will never trigger from hitting a player and your opponent has to choose to attack into it. Losing defender and perhaps giving it vigilance means Morinsun could attack, then tap to deal some damage before combat goes through if you can afford it, and then actually deal combat damage. The result being if you keep the mana up and invest it at that time you can get a bigger token.

Flavor-wise I’m a bit hung up on a (partially) Mardu tree but it’s not like trees don’t exist for them, they just move a lot.

Two points!

@gitblog-monster

This art screams Golgari to me! I wanted to incorporate a form of Scavenge that only worked on itself, representing the flavor of the tree feeding on dead creatures. I think the ability cost of 2BG is fairly balanced, if not a little cheap.

I love this composter. Die near the tree (perhaps because it killed you) and then it eats you up. In fact I’d make an argument that for the flavor and the cost of the ability (which could be tweaked if needed) it should be able to target a creature card in any graveyard. Nice twist on scavenge!

Two points!

@nine-effing-hells

The Planeswalker’s Guide to Theros mentions here that the catoblepones of the plane are said to be the result of the gods (Mogis in particular, but he was apparently told to by the others) cursing a boastful herder’s livestock. It’s not out of the question, then, that they could do something similar to, say, the trees of an equally proud orchardist. So, take one Therosian tree, add black (I’m assuming Mogis is doing it again, and that art doesn’t look red), and make it a monster as only Theros and Fiora can.

Monstrous is a self-contained story and this works well with that. It’s great that the off-color cost feeds directly into that story as well. Turning it monstrous turns on a lot of abilities. Menace, hexproof, and a 4/7 body is a rough thing to deal with. I think this card should either be a rare or perhaps lose hexproof when it becomes monstrous.

Two points!

#cfac 02 #entries #season 2 #aethernalstars #amtgplayer #dimestoretajic #gitblog-monster #nine-effing-hells

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topicprinter · 5 years ago

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Warren Buffet’s sister called.Bohmenian Quacksody and Quackodile Rock coming soonNBA teams reached out to get ducks made for their playersI was actually publishing artwork from television commercials to create the first ever animation art lines for Coca-Cola, Anheuser-Busch, M&M/Mars, etc. Trust me, there were no rubber ducks on my radar as I had absolutely no expertise in how to create these things! But as John Lennon so aptly said, “life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” So one night, at a party, a friend, with perhaps a bit too much to drink, had this funny idea of making rubber ducks that looked like celebrities. I do believe that 99.9% of people would have thought that idea would be impossible to pull off. But for some reason, I thought it was funny and in my mind, I could envision it working! I called King Features and tried to get the rights to Betty Boop to start the new venture. I still remember the conversation with the head of licensing for North America, who I think could not get me off the phone quick enough. She was at least kind enough to say that if I ever wished to make one and send it to her, she would be happy to look at it. I am sure she thought she would never hear from me again! But somehow I found someone to make me a prototype overseas and sent it to her. I came in the office one day and there is a message saying, “we got your little duck, it’s very cute...let’ talk.” And CelebriDucks was born!You have to understand, it took time for this to really get going. I would just plug away and send out my little press releases all day long. One day a reporter from The Atlantic City Press in New Jersey called me and asked me why they should do a story about us. I thought about it for a second and then just told her that, well, I was from New Jersey, and I used to go to Atlantic City. And amazingly, the reporter said that was good enough. That weekend, the Vice-president of the Philadelphia 76ers saw the article and they were always looking for new and cutting edge promotions. So they called me and wanted to do a promotion with their superstar, Allen Iverson. They wondered if we could capture all his intricate tattoos and I assured them we could (but truthfully, I was a bit concerned as they were so elaborate). So they flew out and we met with them and as they say, the rest is history. The give-a-way was a huge hit and suddenly we were getting calls from all these other teams and companies like The New York Yankees, The Chicago Cubs, Gorton Seafood etc. It was like we had a brand new company virtually overnight. I really didn’t want to run two companies so I made the decision to sell off the animation biz and became all ducks and never looked back. We continually refined the concept every so often as with any property, from Mickey Mouse to Apple computers, they are constantly changing and refining their concept.Our first ducks were a bit too big, too hard, and did not float well. My dear friend who creates these with me told me that if we had been friends when the company began, and she saw those first ducks, she would have advised me against starting this business altogether! That being said, we kept working to change all that. After 17 years or so, we hit on a whole new concept and our Costume Quacker line was born which totally changed the company once again. Now we were tweaking the concept from a more human and duck hybrid to a classic yellow duck that gave you the feeling of these characters. Once we moved to this new parody line, we also came up with funny quirky names to go along with the new styles such as GooseBusters, Spa Wars, The GodFeather, Sargent Peepers Lonely Hot Tub Band, etc. It exploded for us and we never looked back. In three years, we did 50 of them which was crazy and there are always new styles that we are working on. So many of these sell out of every store we put them in such as Harry Ponder, Ziggy StarDuck, Paddle like it’s 199, and yes, The “Donald” Duck...who knew!The nice thing about our line is that people of all ages love them...….I mean from Duck the Magic Dragon to GameBirds of Thrones, it is a wide audience. But I do feel that Baby Boomers are definitely one of our top demographics for our product. We put our phone number in big letters on the top of every page. We actually love speaking to our customers and if we’re busy, we’ll always call them back. I think one of the more unusual customer service questions was if we could do a duck of Warren Buffett. The person calling was Warren’s sister! You know, in the early days, I would never try and support myself just selling celebrity rubber ducks. It was too new a concept and I realized that it would take time to get ingrained into the culture. Fortunately, I had my animation business that was doing quite well, so I could run CelebriDucks as a fun side project. My business model is very very unusual. Somehow we have become known as the the top custom duck manufacturer in the world doing them for everyone from Harley-Davidson to Conan O’Brien to SeaWorld. Plus our ducks are unequalled in their detail and design. But the funny thing is I outsource virtually everything, manufacturing, art department, distribution, etc…..I work from home looking out over the lake all day long...love it. What makes it work is having an amazing group of people who I work with all over the world. If you have good communication and organizational skills, a phone and a laptop, it is amazing what you can do these days. So in a sense, you can say it is a one person company as I own it all 100%. But I do realize that one day need to smoothly transition it to another entity to take it to the next level. You run a business, things will always go wrong, you can’t avoid it. You can’t control everything. But you can control your mind set and how you look at and deal with adversity and use it as a way to grow stronger. Also, it’s so important in the early days to really be lean and mean. I always tell people, it’s not how much money you make, it’s how much you keep. And you really want to bullet proof you niche. Make the barrier of entry difficult. Someone can always make something cheaper, but quality is the hardest thing to knock off. Would you ever take investment?I have no doubt that bringing in investors, going on Shark Tank, etc. would grow the business immensely. But for me it’s a bit different. I am happy to make a good living and have a business that I can totally control and have fun with. One day I trust someone will come along, make an offer, and I will ideally find someone who can carry our vision into the future. When I wanted to bring a division of the business back to the USA, I could do that, i didn’t have investors telling me I was not maximizing shareholder value. The rubber duck was invented in America before the whole industry went overseas. I was already the only one doing all our artwork and sculpting here. Now I make our PVC free Good Ducks 100% in the USA and they are considered the safest rubber ducks in the world for babies to teethe on. I would do final production on our whole line here, but our ducks are too detailed, too complex. They just cannot do the very detailed one here cost effectivey, it’s very sad. How do you market your ducks?We pretty much run on PR here. We don’t advertise or spend money on big social media campaigns. But I do feel that Instagram and Facebook are good vehicles for getting your business out there. And if you can create a cool Utube video go for it! We are a pretty simple company in terms of our business model and it’s amazing what a good website and ongoing social media presence can do for you these days.What is the end goal?For me, it’s all about having fun and creating wealth that you can use to do good in the world. Money in and of itself is never going to ultimately satisfy anyone or create a fulfilling life. It’s what you do with your money that makes one’s life meaningful. I love my ducks. But I am also working on music and book projects that I would love to devote more time to. Maybe once I sell the business, I can devote more time to that. There’s just so much I still hope I have time to accomplish. Right now, we have all these new styles of ducks that I cannot wait to bring to life, the possibilities are endless. Bohmenian Quacksody is going to be a huge hit for us as is Quackodile Rock. They arrive in early November with The Queen of Soak. Then in December, we hope to have our Born to Sun, Turn Quack Time, RB Gins-Bird, and The Pinball Gizzard. There are pics of all of them in the Costume Quacker section of our website. In five years, if we continue at this pace, we will probably have at least another 50 new styles. But if we get acquired, it will be a lot more than that. We have sold millions of ducks and have been fortunate to have made millions of dollars over the years. Our biggest goals for the future is how to transition the business to the next custodians and also how to use these monies wisely to help others. I never expected to accomplish what I have thus far, so I have faith things will continue work out for the best….guess we shall see!if you enjoyed this story, the original is here

#/r/entrepreneur #reddit

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cannatuga · 8 years ago

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Cannabis extractions had been around for at least a century, even way back in the sixties. Tincture of Cannabis U.S.P. was one of the most common medicines that the old-time country Doc carried in his medicine bag as he visited patients in his horse-drawn wagon. He used it to treat almost as many different illnesses and symptoms as medical marijuana treats today. Although nobody (that I knew, at least) had tried it, many people in the Haight at that time knew about cannabis tincture. There was even a T-shirt that featured a picture of a bottle of old time Tincture of Cannabis medicine. I kind of got into the cannabis chemistry by accident.

I had a chance to buy a lab from a guy who lived in Topanga Canyon and was trying to make what he called “the philosopher’s stone.” He only wanted $300 (still a tidy sum at the time). It came with a Welch Duo-Seal, a Variac, a really good rotary evaporator, and a nice assortment of filtration glassware. I didn’t know what I would do with it, but I knew I was supposed to have it and I would sure as hell do something of consequence with it. I boxed it up and sent it home to SF on a Greyhound, and soon it was sitting in an apartment in the Haight-Ashbury. But I didn’t have anything to play with it with. A friend, who was, shall we say, an “associate” of the Grateful Dead, was going to help me procure some varied substances that would put the thing to good use, but it would be a while. At the time, nobody had even thought of doing anything with cannabis other than smoke it, make tea from the leftover stems, and occasionally eat it. (San Francisco’s smoking community had only recently learned the difference between leaf and flowers. This happened when the farmers in Mexico discovered that unpressed, well-treated colas could bring $250 per pound, at a time when a kilo of pressed Mexican sold on Haight Street for about $80, regardless of quality.) So I’m dying to put it to use and I realize that I happen to have a kilo or so of fairly good brick weed in the closet somewhere, and there is a liquor store down the block at Haight and Cole. I know that tincture is simply made by soaking the herb in drinking alcohol until some of the goodies therein dissolve in the alcohol. The herb is then filtered from the mixture and the clarified alcohol (which contains the goodies) is bottled as a medicine. I really liked the rotary evaporator, having seen them in use before when friends were making other exotic substances, and wondered what you would get if Tincture of Cannabis were processed in it. Didn’t take long for me to figure it out and there was probably a trail of smoke as I ran down to the store, bought some Smirnoff 101, and made it back to the apartment. Soon the kilo was soaking in a big RB flask full of vodka. It became obvious what was happening as I watched the alcohol turn green. I let it sit for a while, anxiously watching the alcohol get darker and darker, realizing that the goodies were being slowly dissolved into the alcohol. I filtered and ran the sauce thru the rotary evaporator, resulting in a dark green, rather viscous oil. But I had no idea of what to do with it. Pot and hash were the only things smoked at the time, and a lot of the smoking technology we have today was still many years in the future. So I soaked the oil up with cotton and smoked it in a pipe. Pretty nasty but, for the time, new, strong and novel. It didn’t take too long until we discovered that smoking dabs on tinfoil with a match and a straw (this was the era that might be called pre-Bic!) was a whole different type of high. Vaporized cannabinoids like modern dabbing. Yes! (Never smoke anything on tinfoil, even if you first heat it in a gas flame until it “turns.” Research on hard-drug addicts who smoke on foil has shown many bad effects from the practice. I believe that Parkinson’s is one of them.) Right after this I got my hands on some powerful Afghani hash and did it again. Hash oil. The first I had ever tasted or even heard of it. Turned on many folks around the Bay and, soon thereafter, the counterculture had a new toy. The first product to surface soon thereafter was Mexican oil mixed with powdered grass. It was about two parts oil to one part pot and came in a gram vial, complete with a tiny, one-hit glass pipe. It was called “The One” and was all over San Francisco and Marin for a few months. Several other oils soon hit the market, and the paraphernalia manufacturers followed suit, offering glass oil pipes that vaporized the oil. They smoked as smoothly as tinfoil for the first three hits, but then you had to clean them between hits or the coughing would be so severe that it’s a wonder that nobody’s lungs ever popped out and landed on the coffee table. Hooray for modern vape devices and technology. The University of California San Francisco Medical Center is located on a hill that’s about a mile southwest of the Haight-Ashbury. They had a fine medical library and, in these pre-internet years, technical libraries were the only source of knowledge. I was up there some time in the late sixties, probably 1968 or ’69, reading about the experiments carried out by Dr. Roger Adams in 1947, the year I was born, and came across a process he did that utilized the extracts from a huge chunk of seized hashish. The hash had many times the CBD as it did THC, and the experiment was isomerization with sulfuric acid, which converted the CBD to THC. The bottom line of the experiment was that the THC content of the oil was increased about six times by the isomerization process. I read over the experiment several times in amazement and had to stifle myself from shouting “Eureka!” in the library, realizing I had just discovered something that, in this case at least, increased the THC in a given and finite amount of cannabis by six times. I spent the next six months working on testing and processing as many different kinds of cannabis as San Francisco had to offer and found that most of the Mexican cannabis, as well as the Asian hash that was around those days, had significant amounts of CBD, resulting in dramatic potency increases after isomerization. The weed from commercial kilo bricks of so-called “regular” Mexican – eighty bucks “retail” on Haight Street – increased in potency more dramatically than the $250 pounds of Mexican “superweed” which were unpressed, well-cared-for, huge colas of cannabis that had received some love and attention from the growers … even though they were still about 50% seed by weight. However, when a strain of superweed reacted favorably with the isomerization process, the results were just incredible. We heard rumors of the legendary stuff the Mexican growers smoked themselves, which were seedless and were called “sinsemilia”, a legendary and magic term that many smokers heard about long before they had the chance to experience it in some manner. Then I met this guy, Djanandruman Baba, who published a series of counterculture pamphlets that he sold thru head shops. His pen name was Mary Jane Superweed and he had books such as the Supergrass Grower’s Guide, Drug Manufacture for Fun and Profit, and a few other choice titles. I asked him once how many books he had sold altogether and he told me about 200,000. It took me about 10 seconds to decide that I should write a book about my research. Another event happened at this time that caused me to really consider changing my mode of operation from underground chemist to writer and publisher. An old science buddy of mine was shot and killed by federal agents at his lab in Humboldt. He is considered the first casualty in the war on drugs; his story made the cover of Rolling Stone for several issues. The final event that led me to write Cannabis Alchemy was a lab explosion that put me in the hospital for several months. A friend was distilling some 30 to 60 degree pet ether and blew about a liter into the air. I was sleeping in the next room and went into the room he was working in after he woke me up yelling. I walked into the room and, all of a sudden. WHooooosh … boom. Blew out the front and back windows in a large Victorian flat, and actually jammed the doors shut. I was in the epicenter so there was no concussion, just a thorough frying. I reached into the flames and removed a 5 gallon can of pet ether. Good thing I did or it might have leveled the Haight Ashbury. I came up with the safety methods that are in the book while I was in the hospital for a few months. The methods in the book were designed to give the operator the greatest degree of safety possible. I didn’t want anyone going thru what I did. So I wrote the book and started a publishing company. The first edition was called Cannabis Alchemy – The Art of Modern Hashmaking: Preparation of Extremely Potent Cannabis Products. It came out in 1972. It was the first serious book on cannabis science that was published from a consumer’s point of view. Level Press was started with several friends and we soon published a number of similar books. Among them was the first edition of Ed’s Marijuana Growers Guide, as well as a series of how-to books with High Times, and several by Dr. Leary. Right around the time that the book came out, a wave of Afghani Honey Oil hit San Francisco. Made in Afghanistan from fresh charas and purified by fractional distillation, this wonderful product was the strongest cannabis preparation that anyone anywhere, up until that time, had probably ever smoked, in my opinion. It was probably around 80% or more cannabinoids, but was unlike similar oils available today. It had all the high of the THC that one would expect, but retained the powerful ass-kicking knock-you-down power of fine Afghani. It retailed for $50 a gram and was worth every cent to everyone who partook of the lung-crushing delight. Its acrid taste indicated that it probably was isomerized, but I don’t think it was acetylated. Many people attribute its import to the Brotherhood of Eternal Love in Laguna Beach, a courageous bunch of long-distance surfers! For the next decade or so, many different extraction products were available in California. The original Honey Oil from The Brotherhood was the standard and very few offerings approached its intensity and quality. One interesting late-sixties product that I liked was pre-rolled packs of 20 “reefers” called Bay Area Bombers. They were named after the local roller-derby team and consisted of several varieties of quality marijuana mixed with chunks of hash, and dipped in tincture and dried. The “reefers” were machine rolled and filtered and the packs looked as professional as a box of Marlboros. The main customer was the Jefferson Airplane and they smoked them down as fast as the folks making them could put them out. The Bombers were considered by many to be the best smoke out there at the time … at least until the Thai Stick reared its pretty little head in America. (I was recently told that the Hash Museum in Amsterdam has a package that was once displayed and may still be today.) Edibles first came out at about this time. Several people were making candy bars and butter cookies, as well as a few oil caps here and there. Tincture was around as were small bottles of traditional bhang, made like it is in Nepal. My favorite edible from the early Summer of Love days was a milkshake that turned into a ritual into which a number of people indulged. A fat ounce of sometimes bad, sometimes great pot sold for between five and ten bucks on Haight Street. A friend had a girlfriend who worked at the donut shop near the SW border of Golden Gate Park on Stanyan Street, a place renowned for its milkshakes. We would roll out the seeds and give her an ounce to put into each milkshake. Very strong, even by Haight-Ashbury standards. Cannabis economics went thru some drastic changes soon after the summer of 1967. The $80 kilos of 1966 pressed Mexican regular went up to $100 a pound, and the hand-picked, high-quality Mexican colas were bringing about $250 a pound, even though they were up to half seeds by weight. Panama Red came in about once a year and the whole city stopped for a week or two, or at least slowed down considerably. It was also half seed and cost about $250 per pound retail. While Panama only showed up occasionally, all of a sudden San Francisco was awash in really good Columbian red and gold buds. A guy named Bruce Perlowin tells of how he organized a major portion of the fishing fleet in Bodega Bay to go down to Columbia and bring it back. He even bought a pier, which is right beside the Richmond–San Rafael bridge to unload the bales into his trucks. Columbian was king in SF until the first Thai Sticks made it to the mainland. An ounce of good Columbian sold for $50. An ounce of Thai sold for $200, establishing a new high in cannabis prices. Thai was also the first sensi, or seedless weed, that most San Francisco smokers experienced. It set the tone for the soon-to-come Humboldt and Mendo sinsemilla that so radically changed so many aspects of the cannabis scene. Thai weed is greatly responsible for today’s huge industry in the Emerald Triangle. Prior to Thai, there was little incentive to grow weed, as the imported cannabis was so cheap. People even wrote rock songs about not growing weed. The lyrics went something like: “You know it’s well known … you don’t smoke homegrown.” When Thai established the new top shelf of the market at $200 per ounce, it was soon followed by Hawaiian at the same price and, soon thereafter, folks in the woods discovered that some of those seeds they have been saving for so many years would produce incredible cannabis if grown with proper nutrients, love, and care. Once the cannabis culture discovered that a single plant could yield $10,000 or more in returns, a whole new industry, and lifestyle, was born in the hills of the North. I recall the first time I saw cannabis for sale for $50 per eighth was about 1978 in North Hollywood. That guy named Jack that has the super sativa strain named after him and is famous for extolling the benefits of the fiber had it … Traditional domestic hash was created around this time. I describe dry screening the resin heads from dry, spicy flowers in Cannabis Alchemy, and Ed makes the first mention of water hash in one of his early books describing “Sensi Sam’s Secret.” Sensi Sam was the guy who took his super collection of California seeds to Holland and sold them to Neville for $1 each. Neville started the first seed company and made a fortune from the strains selling the offspring back to America. Back to Sam’s secret: Powder up some resinous weed and drop it in a glass of ice water. The plant material floats but the resin sinks. Viola! Ice hash. In 1977 I made and marketed a machine called The Isomerizer. It made oils, isomerized CBD to THC, made hash concentrates, etc. I started a factory in El Segundo that made about a thousand of the original isomerizers, followed by about 20,000 of an upgraded model called the Iso-2. Sold them thru High Times, head shops and record stores. The feds sued us to stop after two years because we weren’t shy about saying what it was used for. It was patented as The Isomerizer, a do-it-yourself marijuana intensipurifier, tar and nicotine remover, perfume, incense, and essential oil making machine. In 1979 or 1980 I became fascinated with a technology that was brand new at the time and I believed – still do – that the technology could be a powerful force against world hunger. I’d like to outline the technology here in hopes that it resonates with one of the young alchemists who follow this site, and he or she puts some effort to seeing if the technology still has a place in today’s socio-economic world. The world was going thru regular gasoline shortages at this time. The shortages were blamed on enemies of the US withholding oil, instead of the fact that the average family car got about ten mpg … Now the US is actually pumping more petroleum than it is using domestically, but gas still sells for about ten times what it did back then. The technology I liked was called “farmer’s alcohol.” It was basically traditional high-proof moonshine that could be burned in an easily-modified internal combustion engine. The fuel could be easily made on the farm, either from certain types of farm waste, or from crops like corn that are grown especially for that purpose. As expected, even in a fuel crisis, big oil immediately negated the concept of alcohol fuel. They claimed that distilling the alcohol used more energy than the alcohol would produce when burned, a claim that has since been debunked on several levels. I had just spent a decade or so studying different means of distillation, and knew that a vacuum can be used to lower the boiling temperature of alcohol down to what is essentially room temperature, temperatures that are easily reached with simple solar technology. By utilizing a combination of solar and vacuum, I figured that alcohol could be distilled without burning any fossil fuel. The corn cobs that provided the grain being fermented and distilled presented a fine fuel source with plenty of BTUs to cause distillation when combined with solar and vacuum. One of the coolest aspects of ethanol from corn is that the ethanol is created from the starch, leaving behind the protein. A powdered residue from this process contains 28% protein and can be cooked into a number of tasty food products. It is currently fed to livestock. What fascinated me about this process was the fact that if most of the drivers in the US and Europe used this process for transport, the resulting high-protein by-product would be sufficient to end world hunger. A far better deal for the human race than oil provides. So I built a 5,000 gallon solar/vacuum alcohol fuel still on a ranch that I had in the mountains above LA. The main tank was a 5,000 gallon butane tank with a 5/8” steel wall. The vacuum was supplied by a GMC 4-71 supercharger (roots blower) that was run backwards. A type of moonshine technology called “thumpers” purified the alcohol to about 175 to 180 proof. Passive solar heating was used to pre-heat the beer before distillation, and a trench under the tank facilitated the burning of the corncobs. For a year or two, farmer’s alcohol was researched mostly by seat-of-the-pants experimenters, with good support from many agricultural colleges and universities. Big Oil continued to spout that ethanol was worthless as a fuel. Even so, the fears of gasoline shortages were so big that the government supported all forms of experimentation in alternative energy. I received some funding from Jimmy Carter’s so-called “superfund.“ Then politics came onto the scene. Carter was replaced by Reagan, who promptly cut funding to us independent researchers, and literally gave the billions in the superfund to Big Oil. Then lawmakers in agricultural states found that they could buy a lot of votes from farmers by pushing a subsidy on corn meant for alcohol production, and they assured the profitability of the venture for Big Oil and Big Ag by mandating that gasoline be blended with 10% corn ethanol, as it is to this day. So the economically-sound concept of farmer’s alcohol was co-opted by corporate creeps, and now hundreds of thousands of tons of food, that could otherwise feed hungry people in other parts of the world, is used as motor fuel. But the technology that I think most important is virtually unknown, and was actively suppressed and kept hidden for many years. What is the magic new plant? Cattails! Especially a variety that grows in Asia named, if I remember correctly, Typha Domingensis. Cattails are the plant that is often seen lining roads in wet areas. Each cattail top looks like a cigar on a stick. The value lies in the roots. The plant forms a thick mat of roots that have a food value that is similar to corn. Except each crop can outyield corn five times. And a technique known as strip farming allows up to three harvests per year. A 40-acre test crop was grown in Florida in the late seventies, which reported these figures. Then the venture that carried out the experiment dissolved and the reports on the project became impossible to locate, even though it was funded by the government and publishing the findings is required. This was all pre-internet. A decade or so later, when the internet was just getting started, I found that the experiment had been uploaded. But all the important data did not scan well and was indecipherable. It is a shame because, according to all the data that I had at the time, the protein by-product from a robust cattail for fuel industry would be sufficient to end world hunger many times over, if even a small portion of all gasoline was replaced by ethanol sourced from cattails. So I apologize for diverging from the main theme of this writing. I just feel strongly that, as I said, some young alchemist may want to take this a few steps further. I worked on it for a few years, and came to the above conclusions. I never got the chance to put it into play. I didn’t see a lot of new progress in the world of cannabis science in the eighties, as it pertains to extraction and chemistry. There was great progress on the agricultural side of the coin, as growers developed new strains by crossing California breeds with genetics imported from exotic countries, and as inventors developed equipment and techniques for indoor growing. Cannabis science took a wonderful turn at about this time when the aforementioned Sensi Sam took seeds of California’s finest to Holland and sold them to Neville, who started a company called The Seed Bank. He sold the seeds to the US thru High Times, much to the annoyance of the regulators in America. The Dutch government had no laws against cannabis seed, and refused to shut Neville down. One of Neville’s strains, Skunk No. 1, won the first High Times Cannabis Cup in Amsterdam, and the cannabis world saw the first standardizations of the best strains that were available at the time, the ancestors of the thousand plus strains that make up today’s market. Soon after the establishment of the Amsterdam coffee shops and the first Dutch seed companies (Neville’s competition billed itself as The Super Sativa Seed Club), new extraction technology began to hit the market, much of it coming from Amsterdam. Several different devices were marketed to automatically screen hash from intact buds, and the first devices and equipment for making water hash hit the market. The next milestone in the cannabis world, as I saw it, was when Dennis Peron opened the first Cannabis Buyers Club in San Francisco circa 1990. AIDS was discovered a decade or so earlier and was ravaging San Francisco’s gay community. Doctors had no idea how to treat the disease; none of the lifesaving anti-AIDS drugs now common had been discovered or developed. The end of the line for many patients was the advanced AIDS ward at SF General Hospital. When a new patient was admitted to the ward, the Docs knew that the patient’s bed would be emptyin four months or so; patients at this stage of the disease died like clockwork. Suddenly the Docs were perplexed. Logjam. Patients suddenly stopped dying on schedule and some of the advanced patients even started eating, putting on a few pounds, and became able to walk up and down the halls. After intense investigation, the Docs found what was different. A kindly old lady from Marin County named “Brownie” Mary Rathbun, had been bringing the patients her potent cannabis brownies for a short time, and the patients chose to keep it from the doctors. Only when they were pressured as to what was different, did the patients tell the Docs. The doctors were amazed and went to the city fathers, who were all desperately seeking relief from the epidemic. The doctors suggested the supervisors pass a law permitting AIDS patients to use pot with a doctor’s recommendation. Dennis Peron volunteered to sell the medicine to the patients who qualified. And thus were the humble beginnings of medical marijuana in California. It would still be a few years before Prop. 215 would legalize cannabis for all patients statewide. During this time four or five other dispensaries opened in San Francisco, Marin and Oakland. Dennis’ club became the focal point for the movement. Dennis was given use of a five-story commercial building on downtown Market Street. Soon the building was full. Intake on the first floor, offices on the mezzanine, and the upper floors dedicated to growing, sales, and smoking. California had a jerk of a governor then, Pete Wilson (whose buddies called him Six Pack Pedro). His Attorney General was even worse, a conservative political hack named Dan Lungren. Wilson and Lungren busted the Cannabis Buyers Club several times. Jackbooted thugs busting dying folks in wheelchairs. Truly disgusting. Dennis came up with a novel way to keep Lungren from busting him at every opportunity. Lungren was running for Governor. Dennis decided to run against him and mounted a campaign that got him 3% of the total vote in California. It was hard for Lungren to bust his political opponent, so he didn’t. Dennis didn’t win, but, thankfully, neither did Lungren. Dennis did, however, win us one of our biggest victories ever in that election. Dennis was the driving force and organizer behind Prop 215, which legalized medical marijuana in California for anyone with a doctor’s recommendation in 1996. Dennis reopened the Cannabis Buyers Club on Jan. 2. This time membership was open to anyone with a note from their doctor. I was in the line that day. It was a memorable occasion. Over the next year or so, extraction products began to show up at the dispensaries. The quasi-legal environment was very conducive for the technology to progress. Butane extracts made their first appearance around this time. Several friends and I opened the first new legal dispensary in San Francisco since the passage of Prop. 215 sometime around the middle of 1996. The dispensary was called Dharma Producers Group, and was located in the old Warfield Building at Sixth and Market. I had the opportunity to test a preparation we called Dharmanol. It was a delta 8 THC isomerization and we gave it to many seriously ill patients to try, especially AIDS and HIV patients. The results were very encouraging. Nobody said it got them particularly high, but many praised its pain-relieving properties. I would like to see a good test on delta 8 as a pain treatment. After a bit more than a year serving patients, we were sued by the feds and closed. I kind of welcomed the change as I was able to withdraw from the daily rigors of running the dispensary, and I went back to producing for Dennis and occasional research. As more dispensaries opened in San Francisco, more different products made it to the retail counters. Honey Oil was again available, this time made from modern Humboldt cannabis. It was good, and made with butane by a guy who called himself The King of Hash Oil, but I still don’t think it can compare with the original that was made from Brotherhood Afghani 25 years earlier. Medical marijuana started to really take off soon after the turn of the millennium. More and more different extracts, edibles, and tinctures came on the market, and soon there were enough dispensaries in California that people began to form companies to vend cannabis products to the ever-growing network of dispensaries. One of the first “brands” to come on the scene was a line of candy edibles called “Tainted.” They were professionally packaged, fairly strong, and made available thru dispensaries all over California. The company’s high profile quickly caught the attention of the feds, and the owner was soon in jail. Butane extracts started to proliferate around this time. The first preparation I saw was called “earwax.” It was strong and fun to smoke, and the fact that it was a semi-solid instead of an oil made it a novel new thing to smoke. Soon following the earwax, we saw “Shiva Crystals”, budder, and shatter. The processes, of course, were highly secret, until someone’s thirst for internet fame overcame their desire to keep a process secret. This usually takes about a month, and always pisses somebody off. I greatly prefer the free sharing of info here on the Skunk Pharm blog. Along with the products themselves, we saw a quantum leap in smoking technology. When I was first introduced to shatter, I met one of the guys who supplied a number of local dispensaries with a fine product. When he traveled, he carried a medium-sized hard shell suitcase everywhere he went. It contained a large glass bong, a torch, various dental tools, etc. He told me that in order to get the perfect shatter hit, all this stuff was necessary. Thankfully, smoking and dabbing technology has come a long way, and now a small bong with a titanium “nail” and an electric heating unit can deliver the perfect dab hit with much less rigamarole. In 2001 I moved to Florida for several years to work on an aquaculture project. It was an interesting change. The medical climate in California was one that felt like full legalization, with everyone having a myriad of new strains and products. Florida, on the other hand, was still an illegal state, and I had to go back to buying an eighth at a time from a local dealer. What a regression! It was wonderful to get back to California. I returned at about the time Harborside Health Center, now the biggest dispensary in the world, was opening. I taught the D. Gold Sunday Afternoon Grow Class for many years … with many sabbaticals to attend to different projects. While a friend of mine teaches most of my classes these days, I still design the classes and teach them occasionally. On my return to California, my wife and I started a non-profit supplying oils and edibles to various dispensaries. While I had been studying the work of Rick Simpson … admittedly with a bit of skepticism … I was relatively unaware of the recent work done in Spain testing the efficacy of cannabis as a direct anti-cancer, anti-tumor medicine. I knew that it had wonderful properties as a palliative, but was unaware that people were studying it as a direct anti-cancer medicine, and seeing very promising results. Then one day a relative from Florida showed up at the door. He had received chemo and radiation twice before for non-Hodgkins lymphoma. The disease came back and the Docs said that he needed another round or he would soon die. He chose the latter. He looked like death walking. His skin was yellow, his eyes sunken, and he looked like hell. We didn’t know exactly what to do so we started studying Simpson. He said a gram a day of hash oil and the cancer often goes away. We tried it and within a few days his skin went from yellow to grey. Soon after that he regained a vibrant look and, after five weeks, had his cancer checked at Alta Bates Hospital in Berkeley. They could find no cancer. Well, as you might guess, we were struck pretty hard by this finding. For the first few days we had a lot of trouble assimilating the info, and then we dove into the research with a lot of vigor. Over the next year or so we wrote a 300-page book entitled Cannabis Chemotherapy – The Art and Science of Treating and Preventing Cancer with Concentrated Marijuana Medicine. The theme of the book is basically explaining and outlining the most important published studies so that a non-scientist can easily understand the science. At this time we also began supplying whole-plant cannabis oil and capsules to a number of dispensaries. We put the book on CD and gave away a copy with each gram of medicine. Thousands of copies were circulated. We formulated the venture into a non-profit Care and Hospice Program. Our mission statement was simple and describes much of the work we did at the time: We provided cannabis medicine at no cost to every qualified Californian with cancer who asked us to and had no capacity to pay for the meds. My extraction chemistry actually went the other direction during this period. Instead of making the strongest and purest oil possible, with the highest possible percentage of cannabinoids, we found that so-called whole-plant oil – containing every different substance that the plant had to offer – was superior in healing power to refined extracts. This has been referred to as the Entouage Effect, and shows that all the 421 elements in the herb (I think they screwed up and counted one twice) seem to work together to provide the best healing. This was confirmed by the Harvard-trained Dr. Lester Grinspoon, who took our whole-plant capsules regularly and said there was something “different” about them. We kept the Care and Hospice Program operating for over five years, treating many patients with cancer and other serious illnesses. We regretfully had to close the program this year when the State of California outlawed the making of extracts with volatile solvents. It is easy to see why the state took this step. Too many Bhotards were blowing their asses up, burning down houses and setting the forests afire up in the Emerald Triangle. The problem with butane extraction is that any idiot can buy 4 bucks worth of pvc pipe at the hardware store, a couple of cases of butane lighter refill cans at the head shop, and easily and quickly fill his basement or spare room with butane fumes … which blows right up as soon as the water heater comes on. I think that 90% of the problem comes from the fact that one can do a relatively efficient extraction with open tubes. If everyone blasting butane in this manner did so outside, away from any means of containing the fumes and away from any possible source of ignition, there would be no butane fires. Or, if everyone utilized safe equipment and followed standard laboratory protocols, there would also be no problem. It seems to me that the biggest problem is developing a sense of confidence and familiarity with the process … usually because it did not blow up the first few times. One gets casual, one gets lax, and soon a mistake happens when all the conditions are ripe for disaster, and disaster happens. Interestingly, I know of a guy who let familiarity get the best of him with a CO2 extractor rig. He removed a valve before relieving the 2000 lbs. pressure, and destroyed his hand. I very much appreciate the safety inspections that Skunk Pharm carries out on new equipment, and the relating of any concerns to the extracting public. I am against most any form of government regulation, but keeping equipment safe that is offered for sale is a good thing in all ways. I have been working a lot lately with ethanol extraction. Too many amateurs are frying themselves and their surroundings with butane, and guys using 5 bucks worth of extraction equipment certainly aren’t putting much care into purging. And we just had a big fire in Humboldt that was caused by two industrial butane extractors being operated by seemingly unqualified stoners. I have been developing a safe, low cost, very easy to use machine that can utilize vodka as a starting material, and produce clear to translucent oils that, in my humble opinion, compare to or even exceed most of the concentrates I see that are made with butane, and even CO2. The machine is designed for extracting any manner of food, plant or herb, and will be marketed as such. So this kind of brings us up to date. From shortly after the time that Skunk Pharm started up, they have, in my mind, been the leader in all forms of cannabis technology. I continue to play around with some of the new technologies (I’m starting to really like fractional distillation), but not with anywhere near the degree of science that Graywolf and Joe maintain in their work these days. These guys are the NASA or JPL of cannabis extraction technology today, and I greatly appreciate the opportunity to contribute as best I can. And as I have said before, what I love most about the Pharm is this blog. The free sharing of information in the two-way format that allows anyone to add their 2 cents worth is the tool that I believe will allow cannabis science to progress at its fastest possible rate. We all oughta be really thankful for this wonderful resource.

#cannabis #Extraction #skunk pharm #oil

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