Archive for April, 2009

The Anatomy Lesson

Wednesday, April 15th, 2009

I teach anatomy to medical students and nurses. Although I
have never tried to seduce a student, I often have
fantasized about making love to one or more of my students.
The following is a story based on that fantasy.

I hear a knock on my office door. As I open the door I am
greeted by the sight of two sensuous students, Tina and
Linda. Tina is a brunette with large, dark, inviting eyes.
She has a slender figure, with small, firm breasts, a tiny
waist, and a nicely rounded ass. Linda is a voluptuous
blond. She has a beautiful face, framed by long blond hair.
Her figure flows from her abundant mammaries, to a slender
waist and then expands into her full, round ass. Both these
freshman nursing students really fill out their student
nurse uniforms. They both are freshman nursing students in
my anatomy class. Unfortunately, neither of them are doing
well in the class. I do welcome their presence in lecture,
because they wear short skirts to class. Since the lectures
are given in a large ampitheater and these two do not keep
their legs together, I have a very nice view of their crotch
all during class. I often have thought about screwing these
two, but no opportunity has presented itself. That is until
now.

“Hello Tina and Linda, What can I do for you?”

“Professor, we know that we are failing anatomy. We want to
know if there is anything we can do to improve our grade in
your course. Perhaps you could give us some special
tutoring.”

“Well Tina, I think that special tutoring sessions can be
arranged. After all, its still early in the semester
so you both still have time to raise your grade. Both
of you come into my office and sit down.”

As I begin my tutoring session, I explain to the girls that
they must come in twice a week for the remainder of the
semester to pass the course. They quickly agree. I ask
them some questions to break the ice:

“Tell me girls, how old are you?”

Tina replies “I’m 18.”

“Me too.” adds Linda

“Have either of you spent much time away from home before
coming to college?”

“No” and “No” are their replies.

“I realize that it is difficult being away from home for the
first time. Tell me, are you comfortable discussing the
human body?”

“What do you mean?” asks Linda

“Are you embarrassed by talking about the human body?”

“No”

“Are you embarrassed by looking at the human body?”

“Sometimes.” answers Linda

“Never” replies Tina.

“Are you comfortable with your own bodies?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” answers Linda.

“Linda, have you looked at your own body in the mirror?”

“Well, yes, everybody does that.”

“How about you Tina?”
…End of the part1. To be continued..

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Tuesday, April 14th, 2009

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Monday, April 13th, 2009

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Sunday, April 12th, 2009

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Saturday, April 11th, 2009

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Friday, April 10th, 2009

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Friday, April 10th, 2009

Greta spent most of her mornings behind her desk, dutifully working.

She was a Dutch girl from Utrecht, and she took her job pretty seriously. But every now and then she clicked over to a Dutch women’s forum to read up on other women and their bumps. Most of the topics were standard – about hormones and the nesting instinct – but one caught her eye.

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Thursday, April 9th, 2009

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Afraid

Monday, April 6th, 2009

By Dryad

I was walking into Mr. Allan’s class when Gary spoke to me.

“I signed up.”

“Signed up for what?” For a sport? For a class? What?

“The Marine recruiter is down in the guidance office.” The Marines? Was he crazy? I looked into his face. Purpose and excitement.

“What about College?” I guess I was saying what about me. He thought it was a fucking game! Go play soldier. Didn’t he realize people DIED?

Died. Then I got scared. I mean, we’d been going out for 2 years now, ever since he moved into town.

“You know I gotta go. College will be here when I come back.” He kissed me. The bell rang, and we took our seats. English class flew by; I didn’t hear a word. I sat next to him, covertly watching him.

After English, we went down to study hall. The junior/senior study hall was open, and ever since the war began, they’d put the large screen TV in there, so we could watch CNN. We sat close to it, watching the night-vision commentaries; him in anticipation, me in dread. I held his hand, as if I could keep him here with me.

I took a deep breath. All the “experts” seem to say it won’t last long. So I began to do something stupid. I started to pray. Pray to God, pray to fate, hell, pray to any greater being who’d listen. Make it end. Make it end before graduation. I gripped his hand tighter. He looked at me, questioningly. I couldn’t answer. I rested my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around me. I willed myself not to cry.

Fuck. I hate being selfish. Here I am worried about me, how it will affect me and my plans.

“Why?” I finally managed to whisper.

He squeezed me tighter, “Aw, honey, it’s not about you, it’s about what’s right.”

He was the one who was going. Willing to stand up to the bullies of the world; hell, whip their ass. I squeezed him tightly to me. The teacher walked up to us, make us split up, I’m sure.

Then he did something strange.

“Gary, you were in the guidance office this morning, weren’t you?”

“Yep.”

“You’re going?”

He nodded shyly. Gary was always cute that way; one of the things I loved about him was his modesty. Like he never realized what a great guy he was.

Instead of making us sit apart, he just smiled this weird adult smile and walked away. I swear, I nearly lost it. I felt Gary kiss the top of my head, his arm holding me tighter to him. We sat and watched the news repeat the same news bytes over and over until the end of study hall.
That night he came over after he got home from work. He asked my parents if it was all right if we went out for a drive, since it was a school night. My parents of course, loved him. My dad just nodded when I told him that Gary’d enlisted. He seemed to expect it. Maybe its some sort of guy thing that I just can’t understand.

While he was at work, I poured my anger into my diary. My hurt, my fear. Because as I started thinking about it, I realized what it was.

I was afraid. Afraid how this would change him, change US. I knew change was coming, I mean, we’re leaving school; but I never considered that we’d be apart. War is so REAL. What would I do if he died? I can’t act the widow; we aren’t married. All I heard in my head was “just a girlfriend” Just. Jesus. He could have at least talked to me about it!

But he couldn’t. I tried to be logical about this. It’s his life. Hell, in some ways, he thinks it’s a responsibility. And damn it, I hated to say it.

It is.

Then I got really proud of him. HE didn’t need to be called; he enlisted of his own free will. He knew what’s at stake. And part of me–the part that isn’t selfish– loved him even more.

I’ll try to be a bigger person. I quashed down that selfish part, told it to shut the hell up, that it doesn’t know what it’s talking about.

So when he asked my parents if we could go for a drive, I knew what he was asking me. My parents, said yes, though they never had before. We drove around for a bit, just quietly talking about whatever, but avoiding the real topic. We made it to one of our make out places. Yes, we had a few. He turned off the car, and we climbed into the back. For a while, he just held me, kissing me softly. I sat in his lap, curling up against him. My fingers traced his face and I could feel his smooth skin. I sighed into the kiss.

I leaned into his body, wanting him closer to me. In my head I was already counting down the time to when he’d be shipped off to San Diego for basic. Three months, more or less. Five months until he’d be shipped overseas. I sighed again, holding him close to me. His hands moved to my waist, sliding beneath my shirt and skimming my chest to my breasts. I shifted in his lap, and straddled him, as his hands shed me of my shirt, momentarily breaking our kiss. His lips returned, but to my breasts, rather than to my mouth. My back arched as I moaned in response. His mouth was hungry, and I was desperate for this closeness. My fingers worked through his hair, pulling him closer to me. He rolled, and placed me laying on my back. The moonlight reflected in his earnest eyes. I could see the unspoken question in his eyes.

I leaned up and kissed him gently, easing his t-shirt over his head. We kissed again, my chest pressed up against his chilled skin. His body shivered, and it made me smile. Suddenly, I felt powerful. I nibbled on his chin, my fingers sliding down his back to his jeans. A slight tug got him looking at me again.

We tried to squirm out of our respective jeans, both of us giggling at the contortions necessitated by the small confines of the back seat. Then, he came to me. I could feel the heat his dick brought against my thigh. I shivered, not sure of the decision I was about to make.

For the last 2 years, I’d said no. Victorian charm, fear, censure, morality; call it what you will. I loved Gary. He knew that. And it’s not like I never let him do anything; we’d fooled around as much as any other teenage couple; we just never actually “did it”.

But fear is a powerful thing and I needed to be closer. I arched into him, moaning his name, as he nibbled at my neck. I pressed my pelvis into his, silently begging for more. Gary must’ve felt the difference in my reactions because he leaned up from me. I gave a barely perceptible nod.

Shaking, he asked, “Are you sure?”

I leaned up to kiss him in response. He jumped, and I had to giggle as he hit his head on the roof of the car. He reached into the front seat to get his wallet out of his jeans, and pulled out a condom. Putting it on the ledge behind the back seat, he leaned back down to kiss me. His fingers went down lower, teasing my pussy. His fingers moved within me, making me jerk beneath him. My breath became ragged, until I was begging him. Quickly he slipped on the condom, and nervously pressed his head against my opening. It felt different, bigger than his fingers, firmer. I breathed deeply, shakily as my body started to get used to the feeling. I opened my eyes to see him watching my face for my reactions. I smiled gently at him and pressed back against him.

I felt the pull as something tore, and my body tensed. He groaned, visibly shaking to keep still.
He murmured, “God, you are so beautiful,” then slowly pulled out. It ached a bit, then he pressed gradually back in. He moved gently inside me, his eyes focused on my face. I watched the concern and love and yes, fear, in his eyes. Even in the half-dark, I could read their glittering depths. I leaned up and kissed him, first tenderly, then more passionately.

It was as if I had given him permission, and he was pressing into me more and more firmly. The ache was gone, only a fullness and a yearning. I pressed up against his bucking thighs, moaning incoherently. He continued, as he stroked the sweat soaked hair out of my face. I could feel his thrusts getting choppier. With a deep groan, he jerked against me, and I felt the sudden expansion of his dick.

I was panting, still unfulfilled. He collapsed against me, kissing my breast, moaning against my skin. Suddenly, he shifted, his hand reaching lower.

“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help myself. You’re so beautiful.” He gasped out. And as he said it, his fingers found my clit, flicking it quickly. My inner muscles squeezed against his deflating cock, causing him to moan. His fingers moved faster, practiced at making me cum this way. It didn’t take him long to get me to join him, and I was shrieking my praise.

We laid down together spoon style on the seat, his arm curled around me, holding me to me. I felt him whisper in against my hair.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“You’ve said that already.”

“Well, it bears repeating. I love you.” He was quiet for a moment, his fingers moving idly over my skin. “I’ll come back. I promise.” His fingers stilled, then squeezed me.

I whispered quietly as I turned to look at him, “don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Your love for me will keep me safe.” I looked at him. If he weren’t so serious, so earnest, it would have sounded like the corniest thing in the world. But I saw the look in his eyes. And there was nothing I wanted more than to believe him.

Copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com) 2003

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