A/N: All right, guys. If you remember me from a few months ago (or more recently, if you've stumbled across one of my other stories), I wrote a PSA called "Myth Busting for M-Rated Fics." It originally wasn't meant to be a story, but after receiving quite a few complaints, I've been talked into revising it. Now it is one. I'm probably going to keep the original post up even after I finish this one though, just so readers who want to know the information can access it without having to read the smut in this one. For this rewrite, I haven't changed any of the informative content, just added an actual plotline. So this will be less sex-ed for Austin and Ally and more…how do I put it delicately? ...heavy petting.

You're welcome.

Disclaimer: I do not own Austin & Ally.

Warning: NSFW. This is a really weird fic, probably the weirdest fourth-wall-breaking story thingy I've ever written in my life. If you are in any way uncomfortable with smut, or frank discussions about sex and the anatomy of the female reproductive system, this is your chance to gracefully bow out.

(Seriously, don't read any further if you're going to get uncomfortable with having your illusions and expectations of sex shattered. To exit, you can click that nifty little "back" button on your browser or hit Ctrl + W.)

The Birds and the Tease
1/3

"Wait, so do I turn left here or at the next one?"

"It says turn left onto Cedar Lane."

"These signs are all covered in dust. It's like no one's been here in the last hundred years or something."

Right on cue, a gap in the clouds suddenly lets out a single ray of sunlight. Like a beacon or some kind of spotlight, it hits one of the street signs, illuminating the unmistakable lettering: CEDAR LN

Austin shrugs and makes a left turn.

Moments later, storm clouds roll over the area, and visibility—already reduced by the canopy of gnarly old trees and the weird twists and turns the dirt road takes to circumvent them—becomes near-zero. Turning on the headlights doesn't help much.

From the passenger seat, Ally lets out an "uh-oh."

"Don't tell me—"

"We just lost the GPS signal."

"Called it!"

Ally's already ruffling through the glove compartment. "Well, then. It's a good thing I still keep a map in here somewhere…"

"You would."

"Found it!" She waves it triumphantly, then starts to scan the tiny print for their location. "Let's see…we took the interstate, then exited right…then turned onto Wendover…and then went straight for about ten miles…and…uh-oh."

"What now?"

"This must be a really outdated map. There's no 'Cedar Lane' on here."

"Fuck."

Back when they'd first met, if anyone had asked Austin and Ally whether they could see themselves becoming "a thing," the answer probably would have been "Ha!"

And "no." No, they couldn't.

That would be weird.

And yet, fast forward nine years, at age twenty-four they've become what you'd call the hottest duo in the music biz, with multiple triple-platinum albums to their names and the recent success of their third sold-out international tour. The paparazzi follow them everywhere in Miami, and their faces are plastered on billboards across the nation, and there isn't a radio station between Maine and California that doesn't get hundreds of requests daily for one of their hits, and pretty much every teenage girl on Tumblr goes absolutely bananas every time anything about the duo pops up on her dash.

Because they're Austin&Ally—with a treble clef in place of the ampersand and no spaces, mind you.

And who doesn't love that classic story about two best friends falling in love?

Getting to where they were now hadn't entirely been smooth sailing, though. After their high school graduation, Ally had put her still-fledgling career on hold to attend college at MUNY, while Austin stayed with Starr Records in Miami. Their relationship survived long-distance, as everyone had predicted, but a few months after Ally returned from New York, Ramone Records went under, and for a while it seemed that she had made a serious mistake in deciding to spend four years in college instead of building up a more solid fan base. Indeed, mentioning Ally Dawson's name to even the most avid Austin Moon was most often met with a puzzled stare, followed by "Wait, his girlfriend's a singer?"

It didn't help that the music scene had gotten much more crowded and competitive during her four-year hiatus. After her demo was rejected by a fifth record company, Ally had started to seriously consider just taking over Sonic Boom from her father and resigning herself to "Forgotten Could-Have-Been Who Never Quite Took Off" status. She'd never desired to go into music for the glitz and glamour anyway, preferring to make music purely for the sake of making music, but pragmatic concerns about the financial impact of writing music as a hobby while freeloading in her father's basement weren't exactly unfounded. Her degree from MUNY had come with a full ride, but without a record deal or any real means of income, there was no way she would be able to afford going back to school for a more practical degree.

…And then, in a move that Ally still wasn't quite sure was a stroke of lucky idiocy or pure genius, Austin had terminated his contract with Starr Records out of the blue, sparking a media frenzy. The speculation surrounding his motives for quitting ranged from reports that the record company had allegedly rejected Ally's demo to rumors that America's blonde heartthrob singer was going into rehab.

Then, after a few days of lying low, Austin managed to talk Ally into performing a new duet they'd written together for a charity concert. Thanks to the media buzz that still had yet to die down, it only took a few hours for their performance to go viral on MyTewb.

A few weeks later, they were signed to a new label, this time with a big-name record company based in Los Angeles. Then they packed up, bid farewell to their friends and family in Miami, and moved across the country to the mecca of the entertainment industry.

The rest was history.

And then a year ago, Austin proposed the night of their six-year anniversary, over a picnic dinner of pickles and pancakes in the park. And really, Ally probably should have seen it coming before he went down on one knee—after all, he'd serenaded her with a slowed-down, acoustic rendition of "Timeless" and then told her how happy she'd made him in the six years they'd been together. In her defense, though, she might have been a tad distracted by how the look in his eyes as he sang to her still managed to make her weak in the knees. She might also have been laughing too hard to suspect anything, when he nervously fumbled for the right words and accidently blurted that she was the cuckoo clock to his Owen. (Austin preferred to go with the former excuse.)

At any rate, Ally managed to recover enough from her shock to squeak out a "yes!" And after they'd called up Trish, Dez, and both sets of parents to share the news, their first selfie as an engaged couple actually broke Tweeter with the sheer number of retwits it received.

Eleven months later, the wedding was planned and fast approaching, and everyone they knew and cared about was going to fly out to LA for it, and they were bursting with excitement and couldn't be happier.

So it kind of caught them both off guard when they visited Miami for Ally's father's birthday, and, citing the practical uselessness of silver candlesticks and martini sets, Lester presented them with hiswedding gift: a gift certificate…for a sex-ed class.

Austin would have protested that both he and Ally had already taken Health back in public high school. And they'd been dating for seven years and living together for nearly three years now, so it wasn't exactly a secret that they didn't do more than just hug and hold hands. Did Lester really think they didn't know their way around the, ah, equipment yet?

Evidently, yes.

His future father-in-law had insisted that this class was "really important to take before your wedding night—trust me, I wish it had been available when Ally's mother and I…" and Austin had wisely decided to hold his tongue.

Firstly, because he was already making a mental note to invest in some industrial-grade detergent for his ears and his brain, as Lester launched into the tale of how he and Penny had fumbled around awkwardly for a majority of the night, and… Yeah, having to listen to the story of his fiancée's conception was just a tad uncomfortable…

And secondly, because Lester didn't need to know that there was no need to prepare them for a potentially awkward first time. The very night after they'd moved into their new house in LA, Austin returned from picking up some Chinese takeout to find a completely naked Ally sitting on the edge of his (soon to be their) bed and waiting for him. And it really hadn't been that bad for a first time. Like, at all. Their dinner had long since gone cold by the time they'd finished and made their way out to the kitchen, but Austin was getting a little tired of General Tso's Chicken anyway. Ally, on the other hand, he was pretty sure he would never get enough of. Ever.

So yeah, the possibility of getting castrated by his soon-to-be father-in-law a month before his wedding night wasn't particularly appealing.

…And that's why Austin and Ally are currently driving on an abandoned dirt road in the middle of a creepy forest, about to attend one last premarital sex-ed class.

That is, if they can find the place first…

"The certificate says the class is being held at 6531 Cedar Lane. I guess now we just follow the road until we get there? Or should we pull over and ask for directions?"

"Ally, we're in the middle of a forest. Who's going to give us directions—the squirrels?"

"…Follow the road it is."

…

"Remind me again why we're doing this?"

"…Because my dad was ecstatic when he found out that they're teaching this class for free, and it would be a waste not to go?"

"Come on, it's just a sex-ed class! Does he really think we don't know how these things work at this point? Does he honestly think we're waiting until the wedding night or something?"

"I guess so. But my point still stands. It would really hurt my dad's feelings if we don't go. Besides, the website looked legitimate enough, and they have a near-perfect five-star rating."

"Please. Near-perfect? If I recall correctly, you've given me 'a million stars out of five' before, and I've been your tutor since we were—"

"Austin!"

"It's true!"

"Remind me again why I'm marrying you…?"

"Because I'm 'an absolute god in bed.' Your words."

"Austin!"

"And because you love me. You love me so, so, so much."

"My voice does not sound like that! I hate you. You're the worst."

"That's not what you said last night."

"Austin!"

"Seriously, we've been driving on this road for twenty minutes, and there's still no sign of a building or anything. I think we're lost. Can't we just turn around and go home now?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because we've already used up a quarter tank of gas getting here. On a Prius. It would be a waste of time and gas to turn around now."

"Oh my god, Ally, I think you're turning into your dad."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"…Yeah, I'm just gonna ignore that. Seriously, let's just pull over, and I'll teach you—hands-on!—everything this class could possibly offer."

"We're not doing it in the backseat of my car in the middle of the woods."

"You say that now, but I think you're forgetting that I'm very good at changing your mind…"

"Both hands on the steering wheel, mister!"

"All right, all right! But can we call someone and ask if there's a motel nearby?"

"Even if we manage to find cell service out here, do you really want the whole world knowing that Austin Moon got lost in the woods while on his way to a sex-ed class?"

"…Okay, that was just mean."

It only takes another half hour, but they eventually take a particularly sharp right turn and find the place. It's a modern-ish three-story building with huge glass windows, quite out of place among the creepy-looking trees in this equally creepy-looking forest.

"People actually write fan fiction about us?"

They're sitting in the very back row of the room designated as the class location on the registration certificate. Space was limited on the gift certificate, but thanks to the syllabi that have been laid out on the tables, they're currently seeing the full description of the lecture for the first time.

"Myth Busting for M-Rated Fics: A 90-minute crash-course on physiologically-correct anatomy for any writer on the Austin & Ally fandom planning to write a smutty M-rated fic. Instructor will be taking questions for the second 45 minutes of the course…"

"Why on earth would your dad sign us up for a class like this? Never mind that—how did he even find out about this?"

Ally shrugs, equally dumbfounded. "I guess this was what he meant when he said this isn't your average sex-ed class."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm not that into learning about the porn people write about us. Especially if it's so bad that they had to start a class on how not to write 'anatomically incorrect' porn. Can we leave now?"

"But what if we miss something really important that my dad's going to quiz us on?"

"…Are you even hearing yourself?"

"Come on, it can't be that bad. What if there is stuff we wished we'd learned before we, uh, did it for the first time?"

"You're impossible. Just the fact that we're sitting in a room full of people who read and write about us having sex is making me really twitchy."

"Um…they didn't even let people into the room without making sure they're wearing hats and sunglasses. And we're both wearing name tags that read, 'Hello, my alias is Guest,' like half the other people in here. And we're sitting in the back of the room. No one's going to recognize us."

"Being stuck in a room full of people wearing hats and shades indoors makes me really twitchy, too."

"If you keep complaining, you're sleeping on the couch tonight."

"No fair! You still owe me for dragging me out here!"

At that moment the course instructor walks into the room and clips a microphone to the collar of her white lab coat, and conversation in the room instantly dies down as everyone looks up curiously at the famed five-star myth buster.

She looks about twenty-something. Small. Dark-haired. Her name tag is too small to read from where Austin and Ally are, but she promptly writes something on the chalkboard and starts speaking.

"Hi, everyone. Since we're all using aliases, I'm going to go by 'FirewormPrincess.' Here's my contact information. Like it says on the syllabus, I'm going to be taking questions from audience members during the second half of the class after the fifteen-minute break. But if you feel uncomfortable asking during class, you can always shoot me a private message.

"So. If you're sitting in this room, it's most likely because the name of the course grabbed your attention when you were wandering down the halls and wondering which class to sit in on. As for why I'mhere…well, often I'll see M-rated fics in which Austin and Ally engage in… (Dang it, who let the small children in here?)…sexual activities, usually with Ally losing her virginity. And the process of losing said virginity apparently always involves a significant amount of pain, as well as something about Austin forcing through and breaking her 'barrier.' These stories aren't bad (a lot of them are actually decently written), but they're anatomically inaccurate. And as a young adult going into the biomedical field, I'm starting to go bonkers when I see fics that misleadingly portray sexuality and anatomy, which then cause less experienced writers to assume that this is how things work and then perpetuate these myths in their own stories."

She pauses then, scanning the various people seated in the classroom. "Yeah…we're going to have to do something about the kids in here… All right, in case you missed the bolded sign posted on the door of this room on your way in, if you are in any way uncomfortable with frank discussions about sex and the anatomy of the female reproductive system, this is your chance to gracefully bow out."

(Cue mass exodus of various fan fiction writers. Austin looks hopefully at Ally, but she just rolls her eyes and stays put.)

"…Also, before we begin, I want to make clear that this is not an intro-level sex-ed class. All of you here should at least know the basics of, well, what sex is. So if you're not aware that babies are notdelivered by a stork and if you don't know what goes where or what a badger burrowing into its hole means, you are really in the wrong class…"

Cricket-chirp.

"…and there's the door."

(One more person, probably a ten-year-old girl, gets out of her seat and scurries out to freedom.)

"Okay, now that we've got the grandmas, the popes, and the prepubescents out of the room, we can talk about 'virginity.'

"There are a lot of different definitions for 'losing' one's virginity. Some say a girl loses her virginity when she engages in any kind of sexual contact (so...basically reaching third base), while others claim she's a virgin until she engages in intercourse specifically. But then that just opens an entire can of worms about pinning a girl's value on whether or not she has had sex, and that opens the door to slut-shaming. So let's not go there. Here, for the sake of argument, I'm going to stick to the medical definition of virginity…"

From her periphery, Ally notices Austin sliding a note in front of her.

Considering neither of us has been a virgin in years, I'm pretty sure we already know everything we need to know. Can we go home now?

She sighs and shakes her head, the necklace he'd given her for their one-year anniversary dancing against the skin of her collarbone, exposed by the…rather low neckline of her blouse. She shifts a little to fold her arms on the table, and Austin catches a glimpse of something black and lacy.

He gulps.

"…Most people have the concept that there's this membrane of tissue, called a hymen located 'somewhere' (and it's sort of nebulous when it comes to figuring out where exactly it is) inside the vagina, and that a girl loses her virginity when this hymen thingy is broken or torn or popped, hence slang such as 'popping her cherry.' In reality, the hymen is a piece of tissue located just inside the vaginal opening. It's actually more so on the outside of the vagina than the inside. Assuming you're a girl, you can physically see the thing if you prop a mirror between your knees, the way your pediatrician or primary care physician probably recommended. It'll appear as a pink-ish bit of tissue just inside the 'lips' of the opening, and it has a little hole in it called the corona.

"The corona is a different size and shape for everyone. Infants are born with their hymen intact—no corona—but as girls grow up and reach adolescence, the membrane will thin out and wear down until a corona forms. Some girls will have larger coronas, so it will hurt less when they lose their virginity. I have one friend who said it didn't hurt at all her first time. Other girls have 'microperforated' hymens (ones with really small coronas) or 'septate' hymens (where the corona is actually two small holes next to each other, separated by a small piece of the hymen) and may find it difficult to insert even a slim tampon. There are surgical procedures that can correct for these because they can be a problem.

"So, yes, there is a hymen located inside the vagina. But it's not as deep in there as you might have thought. Rather, it's right there. It is literally attached to and partially covers the opening. The pain from losing one's virginity comes from the fact that the corona is usually smaller than the diameter of the penis, and it's kind of hard to fit something through an opening that's smaller than the thing you're trying to force through. So please stop writing about Austin fitting in about six inches before he hits a 'barrier' and then forces through it. There's no other 'barrier' back there, except the cervix. But we'll cover more on that later if you guys want."

Ally sighs as something starts repeatedly poking her elbow. Another note.

Who are these people, and what makes them think they know how our first time went down?

Sneaking a quick glance at the lecturer (because she's Ally Dawson, and Ally Dawson has never condoned passing notes in school), she writes in reply, Weren't you paying attention, Austin? These are fan fiction writers. Which, by definition, means they don't know how it went.

Whatever. Can we go home now?

How about we make a deal?

?

If you quit complaining and asking to go home, I'll…

You'll what?

I'll treat you.

"…Also, the hymen is not supposed to be intact. The corona's there for a reason. Think about it: The vagina is a self-cleansing organ. How does it expel unwanted 'stuff'—how the heck would a girl be able to menstruate—if there's no egress (the corona) for the fluid to flow out? So technically, there's no 'popping' going on when a girl loses her virginity, since the hymen is not some kind of airtight sealing…"

And if I don't quit complaining?

The smirk on Austin's face quickly fades as Ally "accidentally" drops her pencil on the floor and leans over to retrieve it, giving him an eyeful of exactly what is under her blouse. Then she places a hand on his knee to hoist herself up from the floor.

"Then I guess you'll sleep on the couch tonight," she whispers, drawing her fingers toward his inner thigh.

Austin gulps. "Y-yeah? I can live with that."

"Oh, really?"

Her hand lightly brushes the already growing bulge in his pants. He lets out a not-so-dignified squeak.

The lecture continues, and Ally turns back to the front of the room, looking every bit the innocent star pupil she'd been in high school. Austin grips the edges of his seat and tries his darnedest to ignore the hand teasing him through two layers of fabric. She's languidly tracing circular patterns against the head of his erection, but her touch is feather-light and only gets lighter every time he squirms or bucks his hips into her hand.

"…While it's true that the pain from losing one's virginity comes from the fact that something bigger is being pushed through the corona, a normal hymen is not supposed to be torn. There's no tearing going on unless the hymen is unusually fragile. Rather, the pain comes from the corona being forced open and stretched. Some girls compare it to a rubber band being stretched tight. You do not lose your hymen when you lose your 'virginity.' The hymen stays a part of you; the corona just gets bigger…"

"Easy, tiger," Ally whispers, suddenly digging the heel of her palm into him. He bites the insides of his cheeks to contain a gasp. "You're breathing a little hard. Maybe you should get up and walk around a little when it's time for break. Get some fresh air." Through his pants, he feels her fingernails slowly traveling up and down the length of his shaft, and his knuckles whiten a little more.

"I can't believe this," he mutters.

"I know, right? This class is amazing! Isn't it great that my dad signed us up?"

"I can't believe you're making me sit through a sex-ed class and teasing me under the table in the middle of—"

"We really do need to thank him for this. After the wedding night, of course." She drags her nails back down his length, wrapping her hand firmly around the head, and his protests dissolve into a strangled yelp.

The instructor's still talking, completely oblivious to his torment.

"Now that we've cleared that up, I feel like we should also talk about the G spot. There's still some controversy as to whether it actually exists or whether women who believe they have found theirs only think so because they've been led to believe it exists. Those who subscribe to its existence usually agree that it's located somewhere 1.5 to 3 inches inside, on the front wall, and it's not sensitive for every woman. It is not a 'magic button.' Furthermore…"

She trails off, and all heads in the audience swivel around in surprise as a "Guest" sitting in the back row abruptly stands up, the legs of the table screeching in protest against the floor as he kicks it away, before making a beeline for the door.

"…Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any for you folks to take your bathroom breaks. Let's see, it is currently…two-forty. Eh, close enough. Tell you what, come back in twenty minutes so we can start the second half of this class, and I'll take any questions you have, okay?"

A/N: First chapter's the humor part. Second chapter will be smuttier.