PART III: Doctor, Nurse and Professor
“Come along, Nurse Turner, no time to waste!” snapped the man in the grey, three-piece suit. He marched briskly up the pavement winding through the city park.
“Coming Dr. Upton,” cried the shapely blonde behind him. She kept up as best she could in her wobbly high heels.
Privately, Dr. Upton wondered whether Nurse Turner was cut out for a medical profession. Heda Turner was a strikingly beautiful woman, no question about that. She did have solid training as a nurse, as well as the aptitude and skills to handle the special-needs patients under her care. Upton was confident she could have a solid career at the Institute—if she would only learn to behave professionally.
He had already reprimanded her, numerous times, about inappropriate apparel and comportment in the wards. Yet here she was again, flouting all the regulations. The white uniform clinging to her ripe figure was too tight and definitely too short. Her hair was flying loose beneath her cap instead of being properly pinned up. She was wearing slinky white stockings instead of regulation pantyhose.
And those shoes! The shoes were an outrage: candy-apple red pumps with elevated soles and heels so high they were dangerous. They arched her feet far upward and reduced her walk to short, hip-swaying steps. The gaudy shoes looked like the kind of thing young women wore to clubs and such—or at least Upton had heard. He never frequented such places himself.
The shoes were the biggest reason Nurse Turner was having so much trouble matching Upton’s impatient pace. Anything faster than a mincing totter didn’t seem possible. He wondered, not for the first time, whether it was time to terminate the young nurse’s employment. If only she would take her work seriously, like he did. He would have to reprimand her—again—about her uniform when the got back to the Institute.
Right now he had more immediate problems to deal with.
“Keep a sharp eye out,” Upton instructed his associate. “We can be pretty certain the professor will be frequenting the park. It was his favourite haunt before—his internment.”
He stopped abruptly. He scanned his surroundings with a critical eye. The city park was big, and forested with stately trees, fountains and statues. There were too many places for an old man to hide.
“Can we use this to help find him?” Nurse Turner asked. She was only now catching up with him. She held up the black box, about the size of a purse, hanging over her shoulder.
“Negative,” replied Upton. “The damper is only useful once we find him. Turning it on too early will give away our position. He can sense it. Make sure you’re ready to activate it when I give the signal.”
“Sure thing!” the blonde nurse replied cheerfully. Activating the damper was not hard. It carried only two switches, one of which was the on/off. A single green light on top of the box blinked calmly.
A couple of young fellows turned to stare at the sexy young nurse as they went by. Her tiny uniform revealed lots worth staring at. She smiled at them. She gave them a shy little wave and they bumped into each other.
Upton shook his head. “Come along,” he said brusquely. He turned and marched down the path. Nurse Turner tripped along behind him, surprisingly graceful in her bright red pumps.
“Dr. Upton,” she said, a little out of breath, “maybe we should, you know, call the police or something? Like, the professor is a missing person, right?” She kept her hands out delicately for balance.
Upton stopped so quickly Heda almost fell into him. “No!” he said decisively. “The police cannot help us. There have been . . . problems with the police handling of this case. This man is an Institute responsibility, and we will take care of it ourselves. Quietly.” He charged off down the path.
“Wait for me, Dr. Upton,” cried the leggy blonde nurse. Her heels clicked on the pavement.
Upton was in full search mode. Undistracted by the serene beauty of the park, he scanned his surroundings systematically, as keen and intense as a lion searching for prey. Quite soon he spotted his quarry, sitting innocently on a park bench, as he had expected. Of course he couldn’t do anything until the laggardly nurse caught up with him. “Is the damper ready?” he demanded, when she finally arrived.
She looked down at the blinking light. “Of course.”
“Good. I think we’ve found him. There.”
She looked in the direction he pointed. Someone was sitting on a park bench, not more than thirty metres away. Upton and his nurse were behind the bench, out of sight. Whoever was on the bench was short, and wearing a big brown hat.
Heda said: “Are you sure that’s him?”
“Of course I’m sure. Nobody wears hats like that any more. You go around the left side, I’ll take the right. Be ready to switch on the damper.”
“Got it.”
They approached the bench circumspectly. Upton waited impatiently for the nurse before moving in. He watched her tall red heels sink into the lush grass. Totally impractical shoes, he thought grimly.
When they were both in position he nodded at Heda. He moved forward to sit on one end of the bench. Nurse Turner sat down on the other end. “Gotcha!” Upton exclaimed.
“Oh!” cried the cute Chinese girl sitting there. “Is this—is this your hat? I didn’t mean to take it. The hat was like, sitting there on the bench and I suddenly felt like trying it on.”
Upton struggled to contain his irritation. “I beg your pardon, miss,” he said coldly. “We made a mistake. We mistook you for . . . someone else.”
She looked immensely relieved. The girl was quite pretty, in an unassuming way. “Oh, well. That’s all right then.” She paused a second. “Does that mean I can keep the hat?”
“Yes you can keep the confounded hat!” Upton snapped. He leapt to his feet.
“It looks cute on you,” Heda assured her, more kindly. “You should try it with like, a brown jacket and a mini, some brown tights.”
The Chinese girl smiled her delight. “You think so? Maybe I’ll try that. I’m suddenly in the mood to try . . . new things.” She brushed her fingertips along the nurse’s thigh.
“Nurse Turner, do come along please,” Upton snapped.
Heda got to her feet. “Gotta run. Nice meeting you.”
“You too,” the girl replied with a wink.
Upton stomped down the pavement. “He knows we’re here,” Heda suggested, when he stopped again.
“Of course he knows we’re here.” Upton said. “He’s not stupid, you know. He knew we would come after him, it was only a matter of time. Now he’s playing games, trying to avoid going back to the Institute. It’s all so childish.”
“What do we do now?”
“We keep looking.” He was moving again.
It was late morning; the park wasn’t very crowded. The odd couple strolled by here and there; a few elderly women were feeding the ducks. The park was tranquil, the flowers bright. In the quiet, Upton found himself listening to the clip-clip of Nurse Turner’s heels as she stepped along the pavement behind him. Her stride had a pleasing rhythm to it, plink-plink, plink-plink, almost like she was playing some exotic musical instrument with her feet. Why did she insist on wearing shoes like that to work? They were made for showing off, not walking around.
There was no denying Nurse Turner had lots to show off. Her legs and figure were drawing happy stares from every man that passed by.
The music of Heda’s heels stopped. “Dr. Upton,” she whispered urgently, “look over there.”
Upton looked. Two young women, clearly college students, were sitting together under a tree. They had school books spread out on the grass around them, and big notebooks open in their laps. Maybe they were studying?
He looked more closely. Each girl had one hand on her notebook and another hand under it. The position of their arms suggested that the invisible hands were in each other’s laps. Their elbows were moving. The girls were sitting still, staring off into the distance, eyes half closed It appeared they had something other than studying on their minds.
Upton scowled. “Glad you spotted that,” he conceded. “The professor must be around here somewhere.”
“Maybe they just like each other,” the pretty nurse said. Upton glared at her.
As they continued down the path, more evidence of the professor’s handiwork appeared. Here, a young man and a rich-looking, thirtyish woman were making out eagerly on one of the many benches. Several bags from designer shops lay on the grass beside a discarded book bag. On another bench, a couple of teen girls were desperately trying to persuade a bookish fellow to help them brush off ants. The ants were apparently numerous, and under their clothing.
“D-Do you want me to . . . check . . . there too?” the bewildered fellow asked the girl on one side. She had already shucked off her T-shirt.
“Oh yes, definitely,” the girl cooed. She was kneeling on the bench, leaning into him. “I think you need to check everywhere.
“Me too,” purred the girl on the other side. “Here, let me get these jeans off.”
Upton’s scowl deepened. The situation was becoming increasingly serious. How much longer could he keep the professor’s escape under wraps—and the Institute’s reputation intact—when the man was constantly pulling these shenanigans. Didn’t he realize the value of his talent?
He looked about keenly. The professor couldn’t be far away. Why couldn’t he find him? The professor was hardly a master of disguise or an escape artist. He was a middle-aged man with a bad hip.
True, he had slipped out of the Institute, despite several layers of security. That had been an accident, a one-time slip-up. Somehow the electromagnetic damper, the much larger equivalent of the device in Heda’s hands that kept the professor from using his talent, had failed. It wasn’t clear how it had happened. Upton was still investigating.
He decided to move on before the bench-sitters around him got any friendlier. One of the ant-fearing girls was already suggesting that the man should use his tongue. “Nurse Turner,” he said thoughtfully, “I think—oh!”
He turned as he spoke to find the nubile nurse standing right beside him. He found himself looking into her face from close range. For the first time he realized how truly attractive Heda was. She had vivid blue eyes, big as saucers and deep as an ocean, and a seemingly permanent, impish smile. No wonder all the patients loved her. From this close, her rule-defying uniform was giving him an upsettingly clear view down her cleavage.
That was exactly the problem with the way she dressed. It was not only inappropriate, it was distracting—especially in a situation like this where the atmosphere was already charged with sexual tension, thanks to the coupling couple on one side and the tangling trio on the other. To emphasize his point the rich woman cried out as her new lover’s hand gyrated under her skirt.
“Yes Dr. Upton?” Heda said innocently. She didn’t appear to notice where her superior’s eyes were lingering.
Belatedly he remembered to stop staring. “We’d better keep moving, in case—”
“There he is!” the nurse blurted.
“What? Where? Where is he?”
She pointed past a flowerbed, toward an open lawn spotted with big trees. Upton followed her finger. For a moment he found himself noticing that the crimson nail polish on her outstretched finger was the same cherry red as her sexy shoes. Then he saw a figure, white hair beneath an old-fashioned wool hat, disappear behind an oak tree.
“Yes, that’s him. Good eyes, Nurse Turner! Come on!” He charged out after the fleeing figure. After a few moments he slowed, aware that he could no longer here the musical plink-plink of Heda’s high heels. He turned to find her mincing toward him across the sward. Of course, no sound on grass.
He considered her legs as she approached. She had excellent legs. The white stockings showcased them perfectly, especially when capped with those bright red shoes. She had, he conceded, been helpful this afternoon. She had noticed things he might otherwise have missed. The same way he had missed how flattering that foreshortened uniform was to her young thighs. Ordinarily, Upton was scarcely even aware of women’s legs as expressions of feminine charm. Nurse Turner was clearly an exception.
She smiled at him as she approached. “Where did he go?”
“What? Oh, the professor. This way.” He led her around the giant tree. There was no one there. He looked around. There were too many damned trees in this park. Off in the distance he could make out the merry-go-round, the band stand, and the tennis courts. Was that a man with a cane over there?
“I think I see him,” Upton said. He indicated where the elusive figure had disappeared. They headed off.
Upton was more careful now not to leave his lovely young nurse behind. It was pleasant anyway, to keep her nearby, where he could admire her legs from time to time. Those red shoes were still foolishly impractical, but the high-high heels were immensely flattering. He was actually relieved when they returned to one of the paved pathways so he could hear the music of her heels once again.
At this rather slower pace they would have a more difficult time catching up with the professor. Upton wasn’t overly concerned. The man wasn’t going to elude them for long. Still, he covertly examined ever woman or couple they passed, looking for evidence of mental tampering. Nobody seemed to be acting strangely. True, one young woman had removed her jacket and opened all the buttons on her blouse, but it was a warm day. A young couple strolled by, her with an arm around his waist, he with a hand down the back of her tights, but that was the enthusiasm of youth. The professor needed time to work his talent.
Without really thinking about it, Upton mentally compared each woman that passed against Heda. None of them were nearly as attractive. Heda was a knockout. It was funny how he had never noticed that until now, even though he saw her at the Institute every day. He had been too buried in his work, he supposed. He glanced her way and she smiled that beguiling smile. She still had the portable damper over her shoulder, like an ungainly purse. The green light blinked steadily.
A couple of gardeners, both young women, were working a flowerbed nearby. Upton glanced their way. He stopped.
“Nurse Turner, you had best turn on the damper,” he told her.
She raised a perfect eyebrow. “Now? I thought you said only when we got close.”
“I know. But the professor’s hi-jinks are getting out of hand.”
He gestured toward the two gardeners. They were both topless. They were standing close, almost touching. One of the girls had picked a big bunch of flowers and was delicately decorating her partner. She slid a flower behind her ear, another couple into her hair. She ran a clump of daisies over her bare breasts, tickling the nipples, then down her stomach. She tucked them into her pants. The flowered girl giggled and smiled at her co-worker. Her eyelids fluttered. The flower-giver found another place to put a flower, but for that she had to drop to her knees, and slide down her partner’s zipper. She was already working on the belt.
“Oh, I see,” said Heda. “She’s really saying it with flowers. Let me get this thing turned on.” She flicked the second switch on the damper. A red light glowed beside the green one. A high-pitched, barely audible hum filled the air.
“The battery should last about an hour,” Upton said, “We’d best keep moving.”
Nurse Turner’s frown was endearing. “I thought you said the professor can feel the damper.”
“Yes. I’m certain the professor can detect the damping field. I didn’t want to tip him off that we were coming. Now it’s pretty clear he knows we’re after him, so there is no need for subterfuge.”
“I love it when you use big words like that,” the blonde beauty said unexpectedly.
“What? What word?” He was caught by surprise.
“Subterfuge. You have the most amazing vocabulary, Dr. Upton.”
“Oh. Well, uh, thank you. It’s . . . nothing, really. I . . . read a lot.” He felt warm, flattered by the compliment. She was standing beside him, looking up at him with those giant blue eyes. She is an amazingly good-looking woman, Upton conceded privately. “We . . . uhm, had better get going.”
They continued down the path through the park. Upton was careful to walk slowly, so Heda could keep up. He admired her stocking-encased legs in the high-heeled red shoes.
Upton had quite changed his mind about Heda’s heels. The shoes were, when all was said and done, frankly sexy. They made no concession to dowdy convenience or sloppy comfort. These were shoes designed solely and enthusiastically to help the wearer show off. Wearing those scarlet shoes required not only poise and balance but also tremendous self-confidence. These were shoes for a real woman, one who loved her own body and wasn’t shy about letting the world know it.
With his narrow, academic perspective Upton had completely misjudged the point of those gorgeous shoes—just as he now realized he had misjudged Nurse Turner. Her style of dress, which he insisted as seeing only as violations of a sterile and unforgiving dress code, was in fact an expression of youthful, sexy confidence. She had confidence in herself, in her sense of style and pastiche, in her place as a modern, free-thinking woman.
Heda’s tight, short uniform, silky stockings and high heels were all markers of a zestful attitude toward life that was vital and refreshing. And damned sexy. Weren’t these desirable attributes in a nurse? And in a woman?
Yes indeed, Dr. Upton decided, he had misjudged this wonderful woman severely. That she persisted in expressing her femininity in spite of his efforts to suppress it was further proof of the strength of her character. He was lucky to have a woman like her on his staff.
Upton’s musings took them past the merry-go-round and the band stand, both deserted, and on to the tennis courts. The professor was nowhere to be seen. The tennis courts presented more evidence that he was around, however.
There were two women there, both young and fit, one mid-blonde, the other brunette. They were no longer playing tennis. The dark-haired girl was sitting on the ground, slumped loosely backward against the net. Her legs were spread wide and her chest was heaving. The blonde was kneeling close beside her, kissing her cheek and whispering into her ear. She had one arm around her partner’s shoulder, steadying her. The other arm was holding the wrong end of a tennis racquet. The handle, generously lubricated with sun-screen, disappeared underneath the brunette’s white tennis skirt. The racquet moved in and out, in and out, slowly and sensuously, sometimes with a slight twist. The sitting girl’s underwear was hanging off one shoe.
Upton said: “Now that’s just sick.”
“I’d say the score is love all,” Heda quipped.
Upton actually chuckled at that one. They stood and watched the two happy athletes for a moment. It was a stimulating display. As they watched, the girl on the ground reached up with both hands to pull her partner down for a long, scorching kiss. The tennis racquet didn’t stop.
Upton cleared his throat. “Yes, well, that’s quite improper,” he said officiously. “Quite improper. Nurse Turner, is the damper still on?”
“Of course, Dr. Upton,” the stunning blonde beside him said sweetly. “See?” She pointed at the glowing red light.
Heda was holding the damper so that he could see the red light and look down the throat of her uniform at the same time. The top slopes of her bountiful breasts were displayed fetchingly by a lacy half-bra. Upton satisfied himself—at length—that the portable damper was indeed working.
“Awesome,” he murmured, half-smiling. “I mean—odd, very odd.”
Again Heda seemed oblivious to where her superior’s eyes were lingering. “What’s odd?” she asked.
A tennis player cried out loudly as her partner gently urged her closer to orgasm. Her hips bucked and lifted. “That’s odd,” Upton replied. “How can the professor keep doing this when the damper is activated. His talent should be contained.”
She shrugged. “Maybe he’s too far away?”
“Unlikely. His ability is short-range. He has to be around here somewhere.”
She considered for a few seconds. “Maybe the portable machine isn’t strong enough. The one back at the Institute is a lot bigger.”
“Hmmmm, yes that could be. As you know, we have no good theory of how the professor’s talent works. The damper merely radiates a low-frequency electromagnetic wave field.”
“Oooh, you’re doing it again.”
“What? What am I doing?”
“Using big, scientific words. I love listening to you talk, Dr. Upton.” She smiled beatifically at him.
Once again he found himself face to face with those beguiling blue eyes. He felt his colour rising. “Oh, well . . . uh . . . it’s nice to know someone appreciates . . . uh . . . me,” he said awkwardly. By god she was hot. He suddenly realized that something else was rising, in his pants, and quickly. Most unprofessional!
“We, we had better keep moving,” he said quickly. He turned away from Heda. That only brought him into line with the two tennis players, who were now sixty-nining on the grass. A pair of shorts dangled off the net.
Upton groaned. This was becoming intolerable. There seemed to be sex everywhere he turned. He had best find the professor quick, before things got out of hand.
He tore his eyes away from the half-naked lovers in front of him and scanned his surroundings. Who was that figure, over there, by that tree? “Heda,” he said urgently. “I think I’ve spotted him. Up there, sitting under that big pine tree.”
“I see him,” Heda said.
“Let’s not miss him this time. You go around that way, I’ll go this way. Don’t let him see you! Move in when I do.”
“OK!” she said brightly. She set off down the path. Upton watched her go. He listened to the music of her heels on the sidewalk and memorized the scissoring of her white-dressed legs. Her hips swayed hypnotically, back and forth, back and forth, with every swaying step. Sweet merciful heaven what a bod. How had he resisted this babe for so long? He looked down at the hard-on now tenting his suit pants. He really needed to get away from here!
He began moving in the opposite direction from Heda. The professor was sitting on a stone stool a few metres away, facing away from them. There were two other curved seats there, arranged in a circle. The professor seemed oblivious to Upton and Nurse Turner, despite the damper being on. That was odd too.
Carefully, Upton circled about until he was to the left of the professor. He waited for Heda to get into position on the other side. Then he marched quickly up to the next bench and sat down. His erection poked upward like a missile in his pants.
“Hello professor,” he said.
The old man in the hat scowled at him. “You!” he said sourly.
“Hi Darren,” Heda chimed, settling in on the other side. “Looks like we found you.”
The professor’s features softened when he beheld the lovely nurse. “Heda. Always a delight.” He rose and kissed the back of her hand. She giggled shyly.
“Professor, you have behaved incorrigibly,” Upton said.
The other man looked at him sadly. “I bring people together,” he said. “I make them happy.” He sat down beside Heda.
“Yes but—you can’t—not like that!” Upton sputtered. “It’s . . . unnatural.” He was having difficulty maintaining his indignation. Nurse Turner had crossed her knees, hiking her tight uniform further up those sumptuous thighs. One high-high heel bounced up and down lightly. Upton’s cock twitched. She was so perfect.
Heda said, “Don’t worry about Dr. Upton, Darren. He’s been grouchy ever since you decided to leave.”
“It’s a secure facility!” Upton proclaimed, “you can’t just . . . leave!” This was ridiculous, explaining how the Institute worked to one of its inmates. “You are detained there to prevent you from . . . causing social unrest. With your ability.”
A pretty girl in tight black shorts happened by at that moment. She paused, as if remembering something, then sat down on a bench nearby. A young man sat down beside her and struck up a conversation.
The professor regarded Dr. Upton with his sad eyes under the brim of the old-fashioned hat. “You keep me there,” he observed softly, “so you can study me. So you can experiment on me. So you can treat me like a laboratory rat. I won’t go back.”
“Professor, please try to understand. You have to go back. We can’t let you wander around altering people. You only got out this time because the damper malfunctioned.”
“Oh, there was no malfunction,” Heda interrupted cheerfully. “I turned it off.”
“You—WHAT?” He stared at her.
“I turned it off. Darren told me how to open the control panel and cut a few wires so it looked like it was still working but it was really turned off. Then he used his gift to distract one of the orderlies and get the keys. Actually”—she paused here to deliberately smooth down her nylon uniform with both hands—“I helped with that part.”
Upton’s eyes followed the motion of her hands. Dear god she has marvellous tits, he thought desperately. That poor orderly didn’t stand a chance. He probably didn’t even notice Heda pinching his keys. He would be too busy burying his face in her cleavage, running his hands over her smooth, soft skin, losing himself in her thick, blonde hair. Upton’s suffering cock strained in his pants.
“But . . . but . . . why?” he croaked.
“So he could get out for a while, silly,” the stunning nurse explained. “You keep Darren cooped up inside all the time, without even a change of scenery, and doctors poking and prodding him all the time. People deserve to be treated better than that.”
On the other bench, the young man and woman had fallen into a discussion about how tight her shorts really were. She seemed pleased by the attention. Another woman strolled by, walking her dog. The man spoke to her briefly. She sat down beside them, considering the other woman’s shapely legs appreciatively. The dog wandered off, sniffing things.
Upton didn’t notice the congregation on the other bench. He was fixated on Heda Turner. Even her voice is sexy, he realized bleakly. How could he possibly work with a sex siren like that beside him every day? How could he concentrate on procedures and protocols when all he wanted to do was look into her eyes?
By sheer discipline he kept his mind focused on the current problem. “Nurse Turner. Heda. You don’t realize—he’s gotten to you somehow. Even with the damper on, he must have manipulated your mind.”
But Heda only smiled. “Dr. Upton you are a very foolish man,” she said, laughter in her voice. “Darren didn’t manipulate me; he talked to me. He told me about himself. He told me how unhappy he was. He convinced me to help him, without ever using his talent. Didn’t that possibility ever occur to you?”
A murmur of voices arose from the other bench. The man and the dog-walker were sitting on either side of the girl in the tight shorts, pouring their approval into her ears, while they fondled and felt her legs, her crotch, her ass. They began kissing her on either side, slowly and lovingly. His hands drifted up to her tank-top, while hers began to massage her cleft through the clingy lycra. The girl in the middle twitched and groaned happily.
Upton hardly noticed the commotion. He was trying to follow the conversation while fighting to stop staring at Heda’s legs, her breasts, her face. She was sitting across from him, only a few feet away, with the professor sitting serenely beside her. Upton was so horny he could barely think. He sputtered: “How . . . how could you?”
The blonde nurse pouted. “Because you aren’t a very nice man, Dr. Upton. You shout at me and the other nurses, you’re mean to the patients, and you’re always on about rules, rules, rules. No wonder everybody calls you Dr. Uptight.”
Dr. Upton tried to say something. “Heda . . . I . . .” She chose that moment to uncross her knees and cross them the other way. The hem of her uniform slid up a little more. Upton suddenly realized she was wearing old-fashioned stockings, with white lace garters. His voice trailed off.
Noise from the other bench nearby distracted him. Another woman had come along, this one a thirtyish office worker in a severe-looking black pantsuit. Shocked, she began berating the trio on the bench for their outrageous behaviour. The man stopped kissing long enough to explain how they were merely thanking the young lady for taking such care of her appearance.
The business woman considered this explanation for a long moment. Then she threw off her jacket, fell to her knees and began slipping off the girls’s ballet shoes. She pulled off her own dress shoes and slid them carefully onto the other girl’s feet. She said something urgent about how those shorts would look better with heels.
Dr. Upton watched the other bench with growing alarm. The girl who had forgotten about her dog peeled off her top and tossed it aside, then moved on to her bra. Her nipples were stiff with excitement. The man was helping the girl in shorts out of her tank top.
As Upton watched the open-air debauchery he came to a shocked conclusion. He turned back to his nurse. The lights on the box by her side were still glowing. “Heda! The damper—”
“Oh, it doesn’t work either,” she said lightly. “Darren showed me how to take out the circuit that like, makes the electric field. He invented the damper, don’t you remember? So he could sleep better. You’re the one that started using it to hurt him.”
“Oh, god, no!” Upton exclaimed. “Don’t you see what you’ve done! Without the damper we’re vulnerable to the professor’s ability. We could end up . . . like that!”
He pointed to the other bench. The girl in the shorts was making out with the young man while the former dog-walker, now also topless, kissed and fondled her bare tits. One hand was busy inside her own pants. The business woman, satisfied that the girl in shorts was now wearing her heels, had hastily shucked off her pants. Dressed now only in a white blouse and underwear, she was advancing on her knees toward the man’s crotch, a hungry look in her eyes.
Heda laughed her musical laugh again. “Not us, Dr. Upton. Just you. The professor promised he would make you a little more reasonable if I helped him out. You are feeling a little less uptight now . . . aren’t you?” She lowered her eyes and gave him a smoky look.
What Upton was feeling at that moment was plain, urgent lust, stronger than he had ever felt before. His hormones raced. The woman of his dreams was sitting in front of him, staring into his soul with those haunting blue eyes. She was the exemplar of flawless femininity, from the top of her blonde-haired head to the toes of those super-sexy red shoes. His mind fumbled about, trying to marshall his self-control, but carnal desire swept it aside like straw.
“Heda . . .” he gasped. “Darling. I . . . I’m sorry. I’ve been horrible . . . so awful. Can you . . . will you forgive me? Please?” Helplessly, he began fondling his erection through his pants. It was mortifying, but he couldn’t stand the need any longer. On the other bench, the woman in shorts was writhing in pleasure as the man kissed and suckled her tits while the other woman lapped and licked through her open fly. The third woman was on her knees on the grass, sucking off the man with wild enthusiasm. The professor watched it all without moving.
Heda pretended to hesitate. “Well, I don’t know, Dr. Upton. Maybe if you promised to stop complaining about my uniform—”
“I promise! I never meant any of that. Wear what you want! You’re so gorgeous!” He was stroking avidly.
“And if you promise to stop shouting at me . . .”
“Of course. I’m so sorry. I’ll be nice to you, I promise. And the other girls too!”
“Well, I guess you’re trying to make amends. Now, maybe if you did something to prove you’re sincere.” She still had her knees crossed. She bobbed one foot up and down meaningfully.
As if on a string, Upton’s gaze dropped to her bright red shoe. He loved those shoes, those pretty, sexy shoes that had been driving him mad all morning. They were the epitome of Heda Turner’s sexual aura, the focal point of his desire. With a groan, Dr. Upton tumbled to his knees onto the grass. He was still stroking himself. He leaned forward, lips parted, and delicately kissed the toe of her red shoe. “Oh, very good, Dr. Upton,” the nymph nurse encouraged him.
He couldn’t stop. He kissed her shoe. He licked it with his tongue. He adored the shoe and the luscious woman who wore it. He lost himself in helpless foot-worship.
Heda giggled. “Professor, you are a wonderful man,” she said.
He smiled for the first time. “My pleasure. Anything for you, lovely Heda.”
“You know, now that Dr. Upton isn’t such a pain, you really should come back to the Institute.”
He stiffened. “I don’t want to go back.”
“Oh come now Darren, it’ll be different, I promise. You’ll still get three square meals a day, the rent is free, we won’t lock your room any more, and you don’t have to do any tests you don’t want to. Isn’t that right, Dr. Upton?”
“Mmmmm, course darling, anything you say,” slobbered her boss, still busy at her feet. She guided him gently to her other shoe.
“And best of all, you can come down here whenever you want. You can spend as much time as you like helping couples come together.” As if on cue, both couples on the bench next door did indeed come together at that moment. The air was filled with grunts and cries of ecstasy.
“Oh, Dr. Upton, I just thought of something,” the blonde beauty continued. “I know you like my new shoes, but I can’t afford more than one pair. You would like to see me in shoes like this every day, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t it be nice if I had some more, in white and yellow and black and I don’t know, maybe pink? The institute could pay for a few more shoes, right? Maybe a couple dozen?”
Upton groaned at her feet. He was perspiring, stroking awkwardly with both hands while he kissed her shoes. “Aaaah, yesss, yesss, as many . . . as you want!”
“Really? Oh that’s wonderful. How about the other nurses? Some of them have great legs! Maybe you could fund shoes for all of them! Wouldn’t that be wonderful, sexy nurses in short uniforms and pretty high heels everywhere you go? Wouldn’t that be nice, Dr. Upton?”
It was too much. The image of a hive of high-heeled honeys Heda had planted in his mind was more than Upton could bear. With a guttural cry he began to climax, spewing his hot load into his underwear. He fell forward at her feet, twitching and cumming and calling her name.
Heda got to her feet. She smoothed down her uniform primly. “Well, I’m glad that’s settled. Come on Darren, I’ll give you a lift back.” She helped the older man to his feet and gave him his cane. “Shall we go?” she said, holding out her elbow.
“Yes, let’s go my dear,” the professor said. He linked arms with her. They walked away together.
“Come along, Dr. Upton, no time to waste!” Heda called over her shoulder.
Dr. Upton struggled to his feet. His suit was dishevelled. A big stain was spreading on his suit pants. “Coming, Nurse Turner,” he said meekly. He hurried off to follow his new mistress.