The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Heather slowly stood up from inside the pit. Her knees ached from being in a crouching position for so long. She stood up and bent over, stretching her hamstrings. Holding her nose to her knees, she exhaled deeply trying to get the most from her stretch. As if on cue, she heard a wolf-whistle coming from directly behind her.

“Wow, I’d love to tap that!”

Heather stood up straight and turned to face her audience. Chad was one of the other students participating in this semester-long study-abroad archeological dig. A few years ago, Chad would have been just her type: athletic, young, funny and a bona fide party-boy. It’s amazing what a few years could do.

“You can look, but don’t touch, Chad,” she said with a wry grin. Chad staggered backwards with his hands over his heart, as if she had literally shot him down. For three months now, Chad’s attempts to get into her pants had become almost a daily ritual. She was sure he’d gotten the message, but he was no less persistent. She had to admire the boy’s persistence – he never quit. It had begun to seem that a day just wasn’t complete unless Chad had made SOME obscene comment. As he picked himself off the ground and brushed the dust from his back he called back to her, “I’m done for the day. See you over by the trailers for dinner?” Despite their routine, Heather still couldn’t get used to his ability to be a total sleaze one moment and a perfectly normal companion the next.

“Yeah, I just want to finish documenting this mosaic.” The pit she was working in had revealed a tile floor with 3-inch square pictorial tiles. Of all the students’ finds, the professor had been most excited about these…to the extent he was ever excited about anything. As Chad walked back to camp, Heather picked took the camera out of the bag and began taking pictures, first of the whole layout, then of each individual tile, some with a ruler in the frame to keep the sense of scale.

It was cozy little set up: five students and one teacher with Heather being the only woman. The four male students, or ‘the boys’ as she referred to them, shared two campers. She had her own smaller trailer, and the professor had his own larger trailer. Although it was hard to call it large with all six of them cramped around his small table going over a particular find or a photo or some notes.

At 24 years of age, Heather felt much older than her fellow students. All of them were undergraduates, but the oldest guy, besides the professor, was David, and he was only 20. Four years difference didn’t seem like much, but she’d spent a few years out of school, in the “real world” and in those years she’d gained a maturity that these boys were nowhere near. She grinned again as she caught herself thinking of them as ‘boys.’

Putting camera back into its case, Heather walked back to her trailer to wash up. The days were long, but when she looked at the Mediterranean Coast just a few hundred yards from the camp site, the weariness of the day drained away. By all rights she shouldn’t have been here. She had only started at Eastern State U last semester in the Fall. She still smiled at her school’s name. How did a school with that name end up in the near north suburbs of Chicago? She remembered reading somewhere about it once being on the central Illinois border closer to Indiana, but some rich benefactor had bequeathed them acres of land closer to the city. The land was once part of some industrial park that went belly-up…or something like that. She really didn’t care, just so long as it was near where she lived and was affordable. It was no University of Chicago or Northwestern, but it would do. She hadn’t even declared a major yet. She signed her name to the interest list for thi

s dig because it sounded interesting. She was quite surprised when she got the call from the department chair saying she had been picked. There were five slots available for the trip but only five people signed up. ‘I guess the students thought Tunisia was too politically unstable for Americans’ she thought. ‘If they had put a photo of this sunset over the Mediterranean on their brochure, they would have had a line around the block!’

She had never been on an archaeological dig before and knew nothing about ancient Carthage, but that didn’t really matter. She was learning. Their site supervisor was ‘El Professor’ as Chad liked to call him, but his real name was Dr. Gregg Walters. He was actually only two years older than her, some young hotshot genius who discovered these ruins in the first place. Well, maybe hotshot wasn’t the right word – he was so shy and introverted that maybe prodigy was a more appropriate word. He didn’t converse much with his cadre of students, so she didn’t know much about him personally. Most of their conversations had been as part of the group and were academic, not personal. She guessed that if they were in high school together, she’d be the popular head of the dance-squad, and he’d be the bookworm doing her assignments for her. Even in those learning sessions in his camper, he barely made eye contact with the guys, and especially not her. But he spoke of his rese

arch with an infectious passion and despite the hard work and long hours, she and the other students looked forward to their debriefings to hear him talk about what they had found.

Maybe thinking of him as a bookworm was too harsh. He was kind of cute, in a handsome-nerdish sort of way. She liked to imagine that if she was given a chance, she could turn him from “geek-to-chic” like in some after-school special. But his looks (or ‘looks-potential’ weren’t the only thing that intrigued her about him. She knew he could read close to a dozen ancient languages. She even found it cute the way he could talk at length about a piece of pottery, but remove the prop from his hand, or steer him away from his work, and he would fumble for words and not make eye contact.

Heather changed into her swimsuit – a modest black one-piece (modest for her, at least) that was cut high at the hips and dipped low at the bust, showing off her generous cleavage. She had brought two swimsuits, this one and a far sexier white bikini. After arriving, she decided ‘the boys’ just wouldn’t be able to handle her in such a revealing outfit. So it remained in her closet, as yet unworn. She wrapped a white sarong around her waist, intending to walk down to the beach and take a swim in the sea before it got too dark.

She checked herself in the mirror before heading out. Her years working as a dancer had kept her in great shape. She was about 5-foot-9, trim, long-legged, and full-chested. Oh, who was she kidding – she wasn’t just a “dancer.” She was an exotic dancer, a stripper, and she had the body for it. Her fellow students didn’t know that bit about her past. She had convinced them that she worked as a waitress for the past several years. Despite their 38DD size, her breasts didn’t sag one bit, and unlike some of her fellow dancers, hers were not the product of surgery. Her red shoulder-length hair framed a beautiful face that featured deep green eyes, a lightly upturned nose, and full sensuous lips. Her skin was naturally lightly bronzed, so she didn’t need to worship the sun or a tanning bed. She was sure that if she had the inclination and a brass pole, she could make her fellow students beg for mercy and even get a rise out of El Professor.

She put on her sandals and went to the cook fire to join her team. Brian and Adam were already eating, and Chad was serving himself. One chair remained empty. “Where’s David?” she asked Chad. There was only one empty chair because Dr. Walters rarely ate with them, usually preferring to use that time to work in his camper on his laptop.

“El Professor drafted him for some video project. He’s running the camera.” Heather was amazed. Chad had managed two sentences in a row without some sexist comment, and even managed to lift his gaze from her chest for a few seconds.

“Dr. Walters, are you about ready?”

Gregg looked up from his notebook. He had one finger on his writings and another on a page of one of the dozen or so open books on his make-shift desk. His right hand momentarily left the book to push his glasses back up his nose. “Almost. I just want to go over my notes one more time.”

It was important that he get everything right. A lot of money was riding on his performance. Eastern State University had told him that due to the budget crunch, it didn’t have the spare resources to spend on an assistant professor and a group of students studying clay pottery filled with ashes in the middle of Africa. That they didn’t even know where Tunisia was only proved their lack of interest in his project. W’s only hope was to show his superiors at the university as well as the Tunisian official who owned the land that there truly was something exciting at this site and worth preserving. If he could convince them that something special happened here, then it might spark an infusion of cash from the college or their benefactors and the publicity it would give the university would allow him the time he needed to fully excavate the site.

The problem was that the bureaucrats who owned the land were waiting to turn it into a hotel to capitalize on the tourist dollars. With the PLO mostly gone from their country, tourists had started returning. It was only because of the generous check one of the campus regents had made to the government that they promised to wait until this summer before reconsidering what to do with the land.

The problem was that Gregg had no experience in these matters. He really didn’t care how the dig stayed open, he was only concerned with learning as much as he could. At the age of 26, he was the youngest Ph.D. in his field of archeology. He was gifted in ancient languages and wowed the academic world with his translations of an ancient scroll that pointed to this very site. Upon publication of his results, he was granted an assistant professorship at ESU, and was given permission to begin excavations. The university was eager to lend initial support to its “wunderkind” new hire in the hopes he’d bring them some fame and maybe even make their archeology program world renown. The only stipulation was that he had one year on site before he had to come back and teach and he had to supervise students in the field. It was publish or perish and since he didn’t have tenure yet, the university had only so much patience waiting for results.

Spending a summer on the Tunisian coast would seem a dream for most, but not for Gregg Walters. One doesn’t earn a Ph.D. at such an early age by spending time at parties and with women. Gregg was painfully shy and preferred to keep to himself. He could barely look his students in the eye and was almost completely speechless around women. His female students barely suppressed their giggles when he tried to talk to them and he’d stutter and stammer and trip over his words. He would have much preferred to be on the site alone, as he usually was, but his superiors dictated that he make this into a learning experience. The fact was that given his time constraints, he really needed the extra help. The only concession he had was that he could parse his students off to various sectors and pretty much leave them alone while he focused on the areas that were of particular interest to himself. To his relief, they were good students, and learned the ropes of an archeologic

al dig quickly. Especially Heather. She was often able to translate his stutterings into coherent thoughts the guys could comprehend.

His own area of specialization was the sacrificial rituals of ancient Carthage. He knew that what he had learned so far was pretty gruesome by today’s standards, but the idea came to him after getting a notice from the university that his time was running out and if he could find other funding, he could keep the site open, and, more importantly, he could avoid having to return to the States and be forced to lecture. He his findings were exciting enough, but his was a narrow world view.

He wasn’t a fan of movie violence and gore, but he knew enough of the world to know that if he could sell his benefactors on the shock-value of the Carthage rituals, he might be able to convince them that this was truly exciting. That, and the fear of spending hours a day in front of groups of students scared him more than anything else.

Gregg gathered up his notes and headed out to the ruins. His plan was to film a re-creation of the most disturbing of the rituals and send his tape to various ‘learning’ cable channels. With their money, he thought he could keep the dig open longer and continue his studies. He had David set up the camera at the lip of the pit. David was the only one of the group that had any film experience, having taken a film studies course at the U. He wasn’t exactly Stephen Spielberg, but he’d have to do. Gregg attached the remote mic to his lapel and got ready to explain the ritual. The other four students Adam, Brian, Chad, and Heather were lounging at their campsite, enjoying an evening off.

Gregg stood behind the sacrificial table he had personally unearthed to give his monologue, figuring it would add to the mystique of the dig. He took his virtual audience through the ritual putting special emphasis on some of the more outrageous aspects of the rites. He felt especially sleazy about this plan since it wasn’t really what he was researching. His specialty had to do with a rival religious sect that only small group of nobles participated in.

He explained each section and then demonstrated it, using the incantations proscribed in his translations. When the ritual came to the part involving the sacrifice, he naturally skipped any real slaughter. Gregg looked at the sky noticing the approaching storm clouds. The weather forecast didn’t mention anything about rain…but then again, what did weathermen know? He hoped he could finish the tape before the storm hit. He really didn’t want to go through all this again.

The final part of the ritual called for the ashes of the slain to be poured into the special urn he had uncovered and mixed with the high priest’s blood. W grabbed a fistful of ash from a pile next to several broken urns and placed them on the altar pouring them out in a circle with a wavy line down the center. He then took out his pocket knife and sliced a small gash in heel of his palm. It didn’t even occur to him until much later that he could have used fake blood or ketchup. He let a few drops of his blood drip in the left side of the circle. W put down his notes, weighing them down with a nearby stone to keep them from blowing away and raised both hands to the sky announcing the final lines of the ritual, trying to be as dramatic as possible.

There was a sudden blinding white flash and moment of seering pain and everything went black. In the blackness a voice sounded in his head, “Cath’ ma le datrah lo pah…” and he knew what it meant: “We answer the call…”

Gregg tried to open his eyes. He thought he could hear voices, and a slow rhythmic beeping off to his right. He first noticed the antiseptic smell of wherever he was. He had a distant recollection of being at the dig, but his memory was full of holes. He tried opening his eyes and they cracked open just a little. The little light in the room blinded him and he immediately shut his eyes tight, groaning in pain. He heard more voices in the room, mostly male. He felt a woman’s hand grab his and a voice, “Dr. Walters, can you hear me?” W tried opening his eyes again and managed to open them to slits. Everything was blurry, but he focused in on the person closest, the person holding his hand. As she came into focus, he couldn’t help but think she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. If he’d believed in angels, he would have said she was one. He was caught in her green eyes. Suddenly a blinding pain hit him in his head right behind his eyes. Just before

he blacked out again, he thought in a panic – ‘Help! Don’t leave me!’ If he had managed to stay conscious through the pain for another few seconds, he would have heard another voice in his head, “He has chosen…”

Greg was coming around again. The first thing he noticed was how dry his mouth was. He didn’t want to open his eyes again, not right away at least. He strained his other senses, trying to hear, smell, sense if there was anyone there. He couldn’t explain it, but he was sure there was someone just off to his right. He turned his head and with his eyes still clamped shut; he opened his mouth, and managed to croak the word “water.” He felt the bed shift a little and a few moments later a straw was in his mouth.

“Slowly. Drink it slowly.”

In his thirst, he didn’t listen and was soon coughing and choking and spluttering water onto his chest.

“Slowly I said! You’ve been unconscious for two days.”

Gregg listened this time and took miniscule sips of water while his brain tried to process that last bit of information. Two days? Couldn’t be. The straw was taken away and he felt a towel wiping his chin and his chest. Next he felt a woman’s hand smoothing his hair. It felt good, comforting.

“Dr. Walters, can you open your eyes?” It was the same woman’s voice.

Gregg tried again, hesitantly. As his vision came into focus, he saw two people. The first was the angelic vision he saw last time. He focused in on her eyes, her very green eyes. They served as an anchor as he came back to reality. As the rest of her came into focus, he began to notice details. She had been crying, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Her name was Heather, he remembered. One of his students. He’d seen her many times, and had even talked with her, or at least at her. But he never really looked at her before, always avoiding her gaze.

“Well, look who’s awake.” That came from the shape standing behind Heather. He pulled his eyes away from Heather’s and glanced up, recognizing another of his students, Adam, he thought. “I’ll go tell the doctor.”

Dropping his gaze back to the vision still holding his hand and stroking his hair, he managed, “You’re Heather.” She smiled and a tear rolled down her cheek and splashed on his arm.

Another male voice from somewhere behind him piped in. “Yeah, she hasn’t left your side since you gave that horror movie scream! We practically had to crowbar her off you just to get her to go to the bathroom!”

Heather shot him a dirty look.

“Is David okay?” Gregg whispered. He remembered David was with him at the dig when everything went black. His immediate thought was that some terrorist group had dropped a bomb on them.

Heather responded, “Yeah, he was sent home yesterday. You caught the worst of it. The lightening apparently hit you in the left shoulder and exited through your right hand. It must have shot across the ruins at David because it blew up your camcorder. He was a bit loopy for a while, but all in all, he’s just fine.”

The doctor came into Gregg’s room, and everyone moved out of his way except Heather. She stood up and gave him room only after some gentle pressure was put on her shoulder by the doctor, but she still didn’t release Gregg’s hand.

First, the doctor shined a light in his eyes, checking the pupils’ responses. Then he listened to his heartbeat and breathing sounds. Checking his pulse and looking over the printouts, the doctor pronounced, “Well, you seem out of the worst of it. Your CAT scans show everything to be normal. For now, let’s just have you rest and see how you’re doing tomorrow.”

The doctor looked over at Heather and said, “You too young lady. You should go and get some rest. You look like you can do it. There’s nothing more you can do here tonight.” He made some notes on the chart and let left the room. Gregg suddenly realized that the doctor had never introduced himself. Emily was the last to leave after the guys gather up their things and practically forced Heather to leave also. He heard part a comment Adam was making – something about getting the crowbar again. Emily stepped through the door and before closing it, gave Gregg a long look. She looked down at her feet, shook her head as if to clear it of stray thoughts, and let the door close.

As Heather was ushered out of the room by the boys, she couldn’t help feeling she was abandoning Dr. Walters. She knew he said it was okay, and the fact was, she really needed a shower and some sleep. She couldn’t explain why she went from concerned observer to being overtaken by an unbelievable urge not to leave his side. She just knew she couldn’t leave until she knew he was all right. The strange thing was that those few words he spoke to her while waking were probably the most he’d ever spoken to her in one sitting. He generally avoided the students, giving occasional instruction or analysis of uncovered artifacts. He spoke little to the guys and almost nothing to her alone. Given how little connection she had to the man, she couldn’t explain why she suddenly felt this strong connection.

She’d never before felt any attraction to him. He seemed to be in okay shape, but he barely even knew she existed, or at least he acted that way. Besides, she’d had her share of boyfriends and knew she was beautiful. She’d relied on her beauty to get her through life in the past, but knowing that wouldn’t last forever; she enrolled in college at the age of 24 to prove she had more to offer the world than just her looks.

When she graduated high school, she went on to college, but flunked out due to her non-stop partying. After one of her boyfriends took her to a strip club to enter her into an amateur stripping contest, which she won, she began stripping full time. The pay was great, but after a few years she started getting turned off by the whole scene. She had watched some of her fellow strippers turn to hard core drugs or get involved in porn and fetish videos. Most of them became shells of the women they once were.

That’s when she decided to get back to college. She had saved enough money to cover her tuition. During her first semester she took a moderate course load, getting the feel of academe back under her skin. When the opportunity came to be part of this dig, she jumped at the chance. She was a little worried at being the only woman on the team, but despite their valiant attempts, Heather had so far managed to fend off the advances of her fellow diggers – not that she was interested anyway; they were just too young for a woman of her experience.

She had barely slept in the past few days. She couldn’t explain why she felt she had to wait by his bedside. Something inside her compelled her to remain, to see that he was safe, cared for. She had spent hours studying his face, memorizing every detail.

She hurried back to the campsite, took a long deserved shower. Putting on a pair of panties and an old t-shirt, she sat in her bed with a book. In truth she was only half-reading. Her mind kept drifting back to the hospital.

Gregg had just finished his meal. His appetite had returned. In fact, he had eaten two full meals. In between, a nurse had removed the IV from his arm, but only after promising he would drink the Gatorade she had brought him. The doctor came back after his trays were cleared away. At his side was a pretty young nurse whom he introduced as Emily. The doctor said that the new shift was starting and he proceeded to update her on his condition and gave her instructions for his care. She listened and followed along on the chart. It was basic stuff: make sure he stayed hydrated, take his vitals during the night, etc. Given Gregg’s apparent return to good health, and healthy appetite, she didn’t appear concerned about her ability to take care of him. The doctor bid him good night and ushered Emily out after returning his charts to the slot at the foot of the bed to take her around to his other patients.

For the first time since waking, Gregg was alone. The room was eerily quiet, the only sound being the ventilation and muffled conversation coming from the nursing station down the hall. Feeling pressure building in his bladder from all the fluids being pumped into him, Gregg sat up to find the washroom in the room. Letting a wave of nausea pass over him from sitting up too fast, he judged the distance to the john. Even though he felt weak, he thought the short distance across the room would be no problem. Swinging his legs over the side, he hopped to his feet and promptly collapsed to the floor with a resultant ‘thud.’ His legs had no strength. More dazed than hurt, he knew he needed help to get up and found the nurse-call button attached to the side of his bed.

Emily came in calmly, but ran to him once she spotted him on the floor. Putting his arm around her petite shoulders, she managed to lift him to a half-sitting/half-leaning position on the side of the bed with a strength that belied her slim form. She was about to read him the riot act, when he looked into her eyes and silently asked that she not be angry. Normally she still would have lectured, but her anger left her and was replaced with concern. “Why on earth did you try to get out of bed?”

Gregg explained that he needed to go to the bathroom and thought he could make it. He still needed to go, so he sheepishly asked “A little help?”

Emily was going to tell him to use the bedpan, since that’s what it was for, but again found herself draping his arm over her shoulder. The walk to the bathroom seemed to take forever, and he felt like he had just run a mile when he got to the toilet. He made it to his destination, but found that with one arm around her shoulder and the other on the wall keeping his balance, he had no way to aim his stream. He tried letting go of the wall, but he couldn’t keep his balance.

Realizing his predicament, he simply said, “I need help” but his brain was screaming that this was humiliating and embarrassing. As if reading his thoughts, Emily said soothingly, “Don’t worry, this is my job. I don’t know what I was thinking letting you walk over here – you should be in bed. You can barely stand, but here we are. Now just relax and let me help.” Gregg closed his eyes, too embarrassed to watch. Emily lifted the front of his hospital gown and grabbed his member. She gave a small gasp, but he didn’t hear. At her touch, he felt a connection, like being plugged in. He also noticed, at least by feel, was that Emily must have really small hands, because her grip barely encircled the circumference of his penis. Besides making him question the size of her hand, the feel of her soft, small hand on his prick was having another effect. He felt the blood rushing to it.

“Okay, you can urinate now,” Emily said somewhat breathlessly. Gregg was sure it was due to her practically carrying him across the room. His piss lasted longer than he would have imagined. While he stood there, his cock in her hand, he felt strength returning to him. If he didn’t know better, he’d say he was absorbing strength from Emily while she stood there directing his stream. When it was done, he finally opened his eyes. His dick had been growing hard under Emily’s delicate touch. He was ashamed that she would have to put up with that after making her do all she’d done already.

When he looked down and focused in, he got dizzy again – not due to exhaustion, but due to surprise. The phallus that Emily had in her hand was easily almost twice as big as what he remembered his to be. She jacked her hand up and down the length a few times, as if squeezing out the last drops of piss. She gave it a shake, like she had seen past boyfriends do, letting a final drop flip from the tip. Still gripping his cock, the biggest cock she had ever held in her hands, she licked a bead of perspiration off her upper lip, not fully understanding why her stomach was filled with butterflies. A momentary pang of pleasure rippled through her loins as she helped W finish. Her brain unclouded when she put his gown down and helped him back across the room to his bed.

By the time she got him back to his bed, both were sweaty and exhausted, but the trip back did seem much easier. She had him lie on top of the covers and said that he should probably have a sponge bath before getting under them and getting some needed rest. W looked at her closely for the first time. She looked young, like any of his freshman students. She was trim, and petite. He realized that when she was half-carrying him, she had to be close to a foot shorter than his 6-foot-3 height. He also noticed that her nursing uniform hugged tightly to her curves, and the top two buttons were open, revealing a small bit of cleavage. H found himself staring between her breasts, even though he knew he shouldn’t. He wondered what they looked like, what they felt like. He imagined his lips closing around her nipples. He could see them in his mind, as clear as if she were standing there naked.

As he daydreamed, he could swear he saw two bumps begin to press against the material. Still focused on her chest, he noticed her hand come up and begin to squeeze one nipple through her uniform. He was so shocked by this that his eyes rose to her face. She gasped, realizing was she was beginning to do. In that split second, he noticed her face: she wore no makeup but didn’t really need any. She had high cheekbones and thin lips with a narrow nose. Her dark brown, almost black hair was pulled back in a pony tail that sat between her shoulder blades. The mini-workout she just had getting him to and back to his bed (at least he guessed it was because of the workout) had left her face flush and had caused a few strands of hair escape her ponytail. He found the entire visage extremely sensuous.

Getting a grip on herself, she cleared her throat and said, “Let me get my things and I’ll get you cleaned up.” She looked at him with big brown eyes and she struggled to turn her head. When she did, they landed on the tent-pole under his gown. She took another deep breath and exhaled raggedly. She quickly turned around and left the room.

Gregg watched her leave, his eyes never leaving her shapely ass. ‘Oh, I’d love to squeeze that ass…What the hell is wrong with me? I’m not some sixteen year old kid raging with hormones. I don’t say things like that!’

When Emily’s ass finally made it past the door and out of view, his head turned and he noticed his raging hardon. He tentatively pulled up his gown and stared in amazement. Guessing at its length, he’d say it was about ten inches. His early estimation was about correct – somehow he had woken with a dick twice the size it was originally. It wasn’t just twice the length, but had grown proportionally, everything longer, thicker. Even his balls felt heavier when he reached under for them.

Desperately he willed it to soften, but it refused to obey him. It stood tall and proud, and nothing he could think of was making it go down. His thoughts flipped back and forth between excitement over the sexual desires for his nurse and dread at of being caught with this huge boner. Every social anxiety was happening at this moment, and part of him wished he could escape to his books and his privacy. But another part of him, a newly discovered part, was thinking about what he could do to Emily with this monster cock.

After a few dreaded minutes, he heard the door to his room open and he quickly tried to cover his unyielding erection with his hands. If he had a better sense of humor he might of found the whole situation amusing, but right now he too concerned with the flimsy gown not really hiding the fact that there was a staff poking straight up underneath. ‘I’m sorry’ he thought. ‘Please don’t be embarrassed’ he thought to himself.

Emily pushed in a small cart and closed the door behind. She closed the blinds on the door to give him some privacy from passers by and he couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard her lock the door. Emily took a few steps into the room, her cart in front of her and stopped, gaping at the site before her. “Looks like someone’s happy to see me,” she smiled, trying to lighten the situation. She moved her gaze from his cock to his face and saw the look of embarrassment on his face. He was clearly very upset by the whole situation. “Don’t worry, this happens all the time. Just try to relax and I’ll clean you up.”

She sat down next to him on the bed and put a soothing hand on his chest, her ‘healing hands’ she thought. “Look, it’s a natural reaction. I promise you I’m not offended. Besides, this is most male patients’ favorite part of their hospital stays. I might be offended if you DIDN’T have that!” Her easy manner and her quips soon had him relaxing a bit. It did nothing to soften his member, but he felt a little more at ease.

In the process of belaying his fears, she found herself strangely relaxed. Usually, she hated this task, despite her soothing words to the contrary. Most of the men that came to this hospital tended to be either attached to the diplomats or the military. They often saw this as an opportunity to get grabby, hoping she’d turn out to be a ‘naughty’ nurse like in some erotic story. But Gregg’s sincere embarrassment and fright had put her into a soothing mood. She didn’t know why, but it was important to her that he enjoy this. She felt a desperate need to make him feel better. So, she put her people skills to work and talked to him. If she could take his mind off his embarrassment, maybe he’d feel better.

And so, they talked. She asked him about his job, the dig, etc. She was amazed that he was only 26 and had already accomplished so much with his life. Gregg found that the more questions she asked, the more comfortable he felt around her. He even managed to ask her some questions. She told him a little about her life, how she was the daughter of an American businessman. She was only eighteen, and before moving here, she had volunteered at her local hospital. While she didn’t qualify as a nurse at home, the hospital here felt she had enough skills to do some basic tasks, and they really needed the help. Mostly, she was biding her time until her father’s business wrapped up so she could return to the states and enter a real nursing program. All the while they talked, Gregg and Emily barely broke eye contact. It was almost hypnotic.

For Gregg’s part, Emily’s bedside manner did have him relaxing. He was surprised by this because for all intents and purposes, this was the longest conversation he had ever had with a girl, and here he was, half-naked and sprouting a tremendous boner, one twice as big as it should be! As Gregg got more comfortable in Emily’s presence, he really started absorbing her features, drinking in her beauty. She said that she ran track in high school and that had kept her in good shape. She didn’t win too often because at 5′4″ she didn’t have very long legs. He also noticed that she didn’t wear much makeup, just a light lip gloss, and some eye shadow; although he could swear that she wasn’t wearing any before she returned with that cart.

As he was trying to puzzle this out, Emily stood from the bed. She poured warm water from a jug into a wash basin on top of the cart and added a little soap. “This is from my locker. It’s a little girly, but I don’t think you want to smell like the antiseptic wash they use here.”

Emily had Gregg roll onto his side, facing away from her. She untied the knot holding his gown somewhat closed in the back and pulled it away, leaving him naked on the bed. Staring out the window, acutely aware of his nudity, he heard a cloth being wrung out and then felt her washing his back. The wash water was warm and the scent was soothing. She slowly scrubbed his back before having him raise his arm so she could wash around it and under his armpit. Gregg tensed when he felt her trailing down to his ass, but there was nothing he could do. When she ran the cloth between back up his legs, she grazed the underside of his balls. Again he flushed with embarrassment, or was it excitement. “I’m sorry about my…you know. You’re just so pretty…” ‘Why did I tell her that?’

“It’s okay. And thank you for the compliment.” In truth, Emily was barely holding it together. She couldn’t explain why she was so excited. Was it his shy manner? She always had a thing for Hugh Grant…Was it that massive cock? When he said she was pretty, she felt a rush of excitement permeate her very soul. She was sure she felt her cunt spasm. She noticed a growing wetness between her legs.

She had Gregg roll back onto his other side, and now his cock was pointing directly at her. She was flush with excitement, but she continued the wash. The room was eerily silent and neither of them spoke – him because he was too embarrassed, she because she was afraid of letting her excitement show. If Gregg had had any previous experience with women, he would of have recognized the signs, but he didn’t know what her heavy breathing meant.

After drying his side, she had him lay back. She washed his chest, then stomach, stopping at his groin. She then went to the foot of the bed and washed his feet, working her way up again. When she came to the last place she had yet to wash, her hands were visibly shaking. She re-wet the soapy cloth and started cleaning his cock. She gently cleaned his balls before wiping up and down his shaft. Normally she would give a man’s crotch as quick a cleaning as possible, but for some reason, she just couldn’t let go.

Dropping the washcloth between his thighs, he switched to using only her hand. Up and down her hand moved, fisting the huge cock from its tip to his balls. Gregg writhed under her ministrations, not fully understanding what was happening. In less than half a minute, he cried out “Oh God!” and a jet of semen rocketed straight up in the air and fell back down to splatter on her hand. Spurt after spurt flew from him, coating the tip of his immense cock and covering her hand and his stomach on their landing. Emily’s crotch tightened and spasmed, each contraction timed with each of his spurts. Her vision went foggy and she quickly sat down on the bed at Gregg’s side, staring at disbelief that not only did she just give her patient a hand-job, but that she came too, and nobody was touching her.

As her vision cleared, all thoughts of her nursing duties disappeared. She was horny beyond belief, panting heavily along with Gregg, and still holding his mammoth cock in her hand. She lifted her sodden hand toward her face and breathed deeply of his scent. Tentatively, she stuck her tongue out and tasted his spending. Emily was no stranger to oral sex, having had several boyfriends in high school. She had learned that a quick blow-job was often useful for avoiding full-blown sex when she didn’t want it or for making it last when she did. But she never let them come in her mouth. Yet, here she was, tasting his semen and weirder still, enjoying the taste!

Gregg had his hand over his eyes, unable to face Emily. When he felt her cleaning off his stomach, he peeked between his fingers and was shocked to see it wasn’t a washcloth he felt on his skin, but her tongue. She had her head over his abdomen, holding her hair back with her clean hand, licking up his come. “Wha..what are you…” She lifted her head from the puddle of cum on his stomach and looked into his eyes with an animal lust. She released him from her feral stare and then turned her face back down, lapping at his goo like a cat at a saucer of milk, moaning to herself. She still had Gregg’s cock in her other hand and his monster cock had not drooped a millimeter.

Once his stomach was clean, she moved her head over to his prick. She turned so she was sitting by his side, her hips near his upper chest on the side of the bed, facing his feet. When she lowered her head, she flicked her ponytail so it draped over her left shoulder and tickled his stomach. But that sensation quickly left his brain when he felt something cool and wet trail up his cockshaft. The feeling coincided with the movement of her head, which blocked his line of sight, and he knew she was using her tongue. There were so many things he wanted to say, to ask, but his brain wouldn’t let him. It just forced him to be quiet and enjoy the sensations.

Emily held his shaft at the base, licking up and down like it was a popsicle. Her small hand didn’t even make it all the way around. It was easily the biggest cock she had ever seen. She kissed and licked the sides of his shaft up and down, finally planting her lips on the crown. Without letting her lips leave the tip of his cock, she twisted around and crawled onto the bed, first needing to hike her white skirt up to her waist. Once in position, kneeling between his opened legs and facing him, she looked him directly in the eye. With the tip still against her lips and her eyes meeting his, she said, “Should I continue with your cleaning?” Gregg was unable to speak, and she took his silence as an affirmation.

She parted her lips and sank down his shaft, her tongue pressed against its underside. Gregg gasped in pleasure. She stayed there for a few moments, her tongue massaging the underside before lifting up, eliciting another gasp from Gregg. Her right hand still held the base of his cock tightly, but also moved up and down slowly. She took another few plunges on his cock, each time going deeper, but after a few tries she consigned herself to only getting about a third of it in her mouth. She backed up and took it out of her mouth, using her tongue to dance around the tip. Again, she made eye contact, and with a fluttering tongue, licked up and down the shaft. Giving a quiet animalistic growl, she attacked the top again, plunging her face over the top. Quickly she bobbed her head up and down, sucking intently as she went. She was determined to get another load out of him and drink it from its source.

The only sounds in the room were of labored breathing, the slight squeak from the hospital bed and the wet sucking noises Emily was making. Gregg watched her in disbelief. This had to be a dream. He watched his impossibly large cock going in and out of her mouth. He couldn’t understand the ferocity with which she latched onto it. Looking beyond her face, he saw the twin globes of her ass sticking up in the air, facing the foot of the bed. She had lifted the hem of her skirt up so she could spread her legs to get in bed. He watched as her left hand went between her spread legs and disappeared into the darkness there. Emily groaned in pleasure and the vibrations had Gregg groaning with his own pleasure. Her cunt muscles convulsed in time with the twitching she felt from Gregg’s cock as her hand whipped back and forth, her fingers frantically strumming her clit. The more she sucked, the harder her cunt throbbed.

Throwing his head back and letting out a loud groan, Gregg shot off again in her mouth. Her own cunt exploded in simultaneous release. She moaned around his shooting tip, feeling the walls of her vagina spasm and throb in sync to the splashes of cum hitting the roof of her mouth. She struggled to keep up, surprised to feel him shooting off as much, if not more, cum than his first orgasm. So much came out so fast that she was unable to keep up and some escaped out of the corners of her mouth and onto her hand.

Taking a final swallow, she gasped for air. Her lungs burned as if she had just run a marathon. Still twitching from aftershocks, she lowered her head to her hand still clutching the base of his cock and licked up what had pooled there.

Both of their spasms finally abated and she sat back on her haunches, her feet crossed beneath her ass and looked Gregg in the face. Her face was red, flush with excitement. She couldn’t remember being so sated. Perspiration had matted the escaped wispy strands of hair to her forehead and cheeks. Emily struggled to catch her breath. “I never came from giving head before!” She continued breathing deeply, her chest stretching the fabric of her tight uniform as her chest heaved in and out. “So, of all the blow-jobs you’ve ever had, how did mine measure up?”

Gregg averted her gaze and quietly replied, “This was my first time.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, until this moment, I’ve never done anything like this.”

“So, you’re a virgin?”

“Yes…I’m…I’m sorry.” He started to look ashamed.

“Honey, you have nothing to be sorry for. Besides, it looks like you’re not ready yet for this experience to be over!” she remarked indicating the still-hard cock in her hand. Emily was suddenly very excited at the knowledge that she was his first. She brought her sticky hand up to her face and commenced cleaning it with her tongue, never letting her eyes leave his. She made a show of it, letting her tongue scrape slowly across the side of her hand, up to her fingers which she licked clean or stuck in her mouth like a mini-blowjob. Once clean, she dropped her head back to his member and lapped up all the cum that had escaped her mouth. Gregg was sure that if he hadn’t already been hard, the sensuous display would have had him ready to go in an instant.

She climbed off the bed and stood at the foot near the corner. She eyed his raging hardon, her cunt already creaming again in anticipation of getting fucked by that monster. Gregg just watched, not knowing what to expect, his cock still as hard as ever. Emily pulled the ponytail holder from the back of her hair and let her hair spill out, giving her head a shake so some it framed her face like a dark brown halo. Next she used her feet to peel off her shoes. She really wished she had some sexy heels to change into in her locker, but nursing is an on-your-feet industry, and sneakers were the fashion of choice. She bent her right knee so her ankle practically touched her ass and she pulled off her sock. She repeated the process with her left leg next.

Her right hand came up to her face and she seductively licked her index finger. She looked like a little girl with a lollypop. Sucking her finger into her mouth, she pulled it out slowly, and then pushed it back in. She did this a few times, mimicking with her finger what she just did with his cock. Her wet finger trailed over her chin and down her neck, to her cleavage, leaving a trail of its passage. Slowly, she unbuttoned her white nurse’s coat. Once all the buttons were undone, she grabbed the lapels, shrugged her shoulders and the coat dropped to the floor at her feet. Under the coat she wore a low-cut tanktop with thin straps and a red, lacy bra underneath. With a deft motion, she peeled off the tanktop letting it drop on top of her coat. Her breasts were not that big, maybe B-cup, but Gregg didn’t care. They looked beautiful. Now that two of the three layers were removed, he could clearly see the outline of her nipples pushing against the fabric. She

grabbed both breasts with her hands and squeezed and massaged them through the lacy material of the bra. Her nipples were standing straight out, trying to tear holes in the lacy fabric. Emily pinched them, eliciting moans from her throat.

Gregg was excited beyond belief. Some part of his brain told him that after cumming twice, he should have been asleep. An hour ago, he could barely stand, but at the moment, he felt more alive than he ever had in his life. His conscious mind wasn’t paying attention to this logic. The only thought not directed at this vision before him was an idle thought that he hoped nobody came in on them. Unbeknownst to Gregg, at that very moment, the head nurse walked past his door. She was about to check on him, having not seen Emily since she started her rounds. She walked past Gregg’s door, all concerns for him or Emily’s whereabouts forgotten.

Emily stopped her chest-massage and undid the button at the waist of her white calf-length skirt. Next she slowly lowered the zipper. Gregg’s eyes followed as they fell in a pool at her feet. His eyes roamed up her legs to the matching set of lacy red panties. Gregg couldn’t believe that this petite figure in front of him could have such long legs. Emily slowly turned around, giving him the full show. With her back to him, but looking over her shoulder, she wound the back of her panties around her finger and pulled them tight into the crack of her ass, letting him see her smooth asscheeks in an imitation of a thong. She took a step back toward him and bent in half, keeping her legs straight, but letting her weight shift from one foot to the other. She made a long show of slowly picking up the clothes from the floor, her ass swaying back and forth to a hypnotic rhythm. While bent over, Gregg reached out his hand to touch those perfect globes, but she stood stra

ight before he could caress her skin. He looked up at her and she put on a mock frown and wagged her finger at him as if saying “No, no, no.”

She walked back to the foot of the bed and placed her clothes on the counter against the wall. Turning back to face him, she stretched her arms behind her back, undoing the clasp of her bra. Holding the cups in place with one arm and then with the other, she removed her arms from the straps. Slowly, she let the bra slide over her mounds, finally revealing her nipples. Gregg just stared, the realization that this was the first naked woman he’d ever seen hitting him full force in the brain. She smiled wickedly and tossed the garment at Gregg’s head. It landed on his chest and he picked it up, smelling her perfume on the material. Looking up, Emily was swaying her hips to a tune only she could hear as she squeezed her bare tits and pinched her nipples even more fervently. She knew she had to end this show quickly because she was getting herself very excited.

Turning her back to Gregg again, she grabbed the sides of her panties and slowly began to pull them down. When the tops of the panties got below the bottom of her asscheeks, she bent to a ninety degree angle again and pulled them the rest of the way off. Standing, she again turned and tossed them at Gregg’s head, where they landed on his face. He couldn’t help but notice that the crotch was soaking wet and he breathed deeply of the heady scent. Pulling them to the side, he watched her climb up on all fours, starting at the foot of the bed. Her lithe figure and graceful movements reminded Gregg of a cat. Her small tits hung below as she moved with feline grace. As her head passed his erect and throbbing cock, she dropped her face to give it a quick lick. She continued her climb up the bed, his cock rubbing in the shallow valley between her tits. Drops of pre-cum left a thin trail down her sternum. On and on she came, until his cock grazed through the trimmed h

air of her vagina. She gave a small gasp of pleasure as his cock bent forward with her cunt, and then sprang free once she moved beyond it.

Having cleared his cock, she sat back, resting on his abdomen, his prick nestled between her asscheeks. She braced herself on outstretched arms on his chest, her pelvis slowly grinding on his stomach. She leaned forward so she was nose-to-nose with Gregg, her hair forming a curtain around their heads. Continuing with her cat-like persona, she purred slightly before snaking her tongue out to trace around Gregg’s lips. He gasped. The whole situation was overwhelming his senses with eroticism. As he opened his mouth to gasp again, Emily dropped her head, crushing her lips to his. To his surprise, he felt her tongue enter his mouth. He instinctively returned the kiss, his right hand tangling in her hair, holding her head to his.

Gregg’s left hand slid downward, stopping halfway down her back. He brought it around front and gently palmed her tit. “Yes, play with my tits!” she moaned. She couldn’t remember them ever being so sensitive, but right now that didn’t matter. She just needed to feel his touch. Emily sat up straight and grabbed both of Gregg’s hands, covering her pliant breasts with both their hands. She showed him what she liked, his hands under hers, doing as she instructed. Electric shocks zapped through her body as she and Gregg fondled her chest. Each time his thumb would slide over her nipple, her pelvis would jerk, grinding it hard against his stomach, causing her clit to rub against his skin, driving her even wilder with lust. After a few minutes of this pleasant torture, she leaned forward again for a kiss, keeping one of Gregg’s hands on her tit, and pulling the other down to her ass. Gregg squeezed and fondled her asscheek, delighting in its roundness and firmness.

Finally Emily pulled up again, gasping for air, as was Gregg. Her hair framed her face, stopping short of the tops of her tits. “Are you ready?” she asked as her right hand went behind her, gripping his shaft. “You’re long overdue.”

With that, she brought her right leg up so her foot was on the bed, causing her to lean to the left, opening dripping cunt for its pending invasion. She positioned the tip of his cocklance at her entrance and rubbed it up and down her narrow slit, coating it in her juices. As the tip got lubed up, she started to worry that she wouldn’t be able to take his size. She was glad she was on top because it at least let her control the speed of things.

Finally, after a seeming eternity, the crown moved past her outer lips. She slowly worked about an inch in before needing to rise back up. Up and down she went in small motions, each time taking maybe another half-inch inside her. Her cunt muscles massaged the sensitive tip of his cock, squeezing and churning it in a warm, wet bath.

After she had about half his length in her, she brought her right leg back to Gregg’s side, leaning forward. Slowly she worked forward and back on hands and knees getting more and more of his length into her. She only hoped Gregg didn’t cum while she was just getting him fully inside her. To her pleasant surprise and to Gregg’s, he didn’t cum, even when she finally felt his wiry pubic hair against her pubes, letting her know he was at last all the way in. She sat up, letting her weight get him completely buried inside her. She stayed motionless, getting used to his size. Gregg was beside himself with pleasure as her cunt muscles throbbed and flexed around his length. This was ten times more pleasurable than the blowjob she had given him earlier and he couldn’t understand how he had hadn’t cum two or three more times just while she was getting into position. It was as if his body knew that it wasn’t the right time and held itself off.

Emily sighed in pleasure, emitting a small squeak as a mini-orgasm jolted her system. Her cunt spasmed and her stomach muscles rippled as micro-shocks coursed through her body. Her fingers clenched, digging into Gregg’s chest. When the shocks subsided, she opened her eyes, ready to get down to business. Back and forth she started rocking her hips, letting his girth stretch her insides. Putting her hands flat on her thighs, she lifted up, until almost his entire length was out of her and then slowly sat back down, eliciting sighs from herself and from Gregg. Gradually she picked up the pace, up and down. She alternated between bouncing on his shaft and grinding her cunt back and forth or in little circles. Each motion stimulated her clit in a different way and each motion caused Gregg to moan in pleasure.

She grabbed Gregg’s hands and placed them at her hips, then grabbing her own tits and squeezing harshly. Gregg caught on and began taking some control. He held her hips firmly in his hands and began lifting his ass off the bed, meeting her strokes. Faster and faster they fucked, both their bodies shining with a layer of sweat. Emily felt herself have one, then another small orgasm, and she squeaked out her excitement, knowing she couldn’t scream like she wanted. The bed shook under their pounding rhythm. She fell forward, her face buried in Gregg’s neck. Gregg held her hips up and in place, and began thrusting furiously into her stretched cunt. In and out he sawed, his hips thrusting high off the bed to completely fill her cunt-channel only to empty it a moment later. Again and again he stabbed into her deepest depths, where no man had ever pleasured her before. Gregg’s pelvis slapped loudly and repeatedly against her asscheeks. He passed the point of no retu

rn and in her blissful mind-fog, Emily knew that Gregg was about to cum.

At last he stabbed harshly into her, holding her tight against his hips and let loose his cum, which triggered a massive orgasm from Emily. She screamed into his shoulder flesh, muffling the sound. Spasm after spasm shook her body, while spurt after spurt fired into her. The pleasure was immense, like nothing she had ever felt before in her life. Her body shook and writhed until finally she felt the room spin and she blacked out.

A few moments later she awoke to the feeling of Gregg pulling her hair off her face with his fingers and saying her name softly. “Emily…Emily, are you okay?” She finally roused and got her bearings. She looked at Gregg’s shoulder and saw the teeth marks left from her stifled screams. She was relieved to see that she at least hadn’t broken the skin. She weakly pushed herself up with her arms enough to bring her face in line with Gregg’s and they shared a passionate kiss. She could still feel him inside her, feel his pulse through her vaginal walls. Their kiss wasn’t meant to rebuild excitement; rather it bound them to each other in the glow of what had just happened.

Emily pulled her hair over one shoulder and kissed Gregg on the lips, the cheek, the ear, and began working down the side of his neck. She centered herself and leaned forward again, his huge, slippery member slipping out from her cunt. It had softened slightly but had lost little of its size. As it slid out from inside her, both gasped at the feel, their joined equipment hyper-sensitive. Once his cock was fully out, she shuddered at the sudden emptiness of her cunt-channel. Her muscles contracted, seeking to clamp on what was no longer there. She looked back and saw it resting limply on his thigh. She smiled and said, “Well, I see we finally cured you of your hardon!” She crawled backwards toward the foot of the bed until her face was even with his wet cock. Once again, she used her mouth and tongue to clean up their mixed juices. It pulsed and jerked slightly under her ministrations, but never fully regained its hardness. She was also pleased that in his sl

ightly softened state, she was able to get almost half his length into her mouth. She delighted in the taste of their mixed spendings. She had never done that before, but for some reason, it felt right. It also tasted right.

Emily was exhausted and fought the urge to get him hard again. She had a long night ahead of her and she had to get back to work. She climbed off the bed and brought her legs together. Her crotch was sore, but pleasantly so. She took a moment to stretch, bringing her hands above her head and slowly rotating her body in a circle, getting the kinks out. Gregg smiled at the display. Unhurriedly, Emily took another washcloth and gave herself a standing bath, wiping the sweat and spendings off her body, taking extra time around her cunt.

She walked to the head of the bed and reached across Gregg’s body to grab her bra and panties. She put her bra back on, settling it in place. Next she held the panties and frowned. “I can’t wear these, they’re soaked. Everyone will know what I did.” Smiling wickedly, she said, “Here, you keep them, as a keepsake. I’ll just have to finish my rounds without them.” With that she finished getting dressed, putting the rest of her uniform back on and her hair back in its ponytail. When done, she looked as professional as ever. She then returned to Gregg, taking another washcloth and giving him one last scrubdown. She got a fresh gown and put it on him. Gathering all her cleaning supplies on the cart, she turned back to Gregg and sat on the bed by his side.

“Don’t get the wrong idea about me. I don’t do this with all my patients…I don’t do this with ANY of patients. But this felt…I don’t know…right. A sane person would think you were lying about this being your first time – you were amazing. I never came so much or so hard. But I believe you.” With that, she leaned forward and kissed him again, a parting kiss filled as much with longing as with sorrow that she had to leave. “Get a good night’s sleep – you’ve earned it. I’ll check on you later while I make my rounds.”

Within two minutes of her exiting the room, Gregg was fast asleep. He dreamed of the encounter he just had. He dreamed it over and over, every moment, every sensation being relived again and again. Each time it was the same thing with one exception – sometimes he dreamed it just as it happened, but other times it wasn’t Emily riding his cock, it was Heather.

Down the road at the dig by the beach, Heather woke from a highly erotic dream. She was dreaming she was dressed in a nurse’s outfit, seducing Dr. Walters in his hospital bed…and it was incredibly exciting. She woke with a start, her nipples sticking straight out almost painfully and her clit throbbing in time with her pulse. It was as erotic a dream as she’d ever had. She lay back down and rolled onto her stomach, her hands darting toward her crotch. Madly, she finger-fucked herself to the images of her sucking the professor’s cock, lapping up his cum, and riding him until she passed out with a super-intense orgasm. Again and again, she screamed her release into her pillow until she lost count of the number of orgasms she’d had. Finally, exhausted she fell asleep again.