The Collegeworld

Christine, he couldn't possibly touch. No way. She was too pure, too innocent. But Lara? He didn't know her, and she didn't know him. If he happened, by pure accident, touch her womanly parts a little bit, what possible harm could there be? The girls wouldn't remember any of this.

The tablet beeped. "Warning. Slow progress on the maintenance. Two (2) warning(s) left." Who on Earth designed these things? Space Nazis? Jeez, chill a bit, computer.

Sighing, Thomas got up and turned to Christine again. If there had been one moment in his life where he just wanted to pause and enjoy, this was it. But no. Asshole computer.

Luckily, the task in front of him wasn't exactly unpleasant. As his hands neared Christine's pajama pant waistband, he started to shake and sweat, Eminem's famous spaghetti song finding its way into his consciousness. Swallowing his nervousness, the fingers curled under the elastic band and started to pull.

Everyone who has pulled a girl's pants off knows bypassing the butt requires either a lot of force or a willing participant. Since Thomas wasn't experienced in this field, the waistband got stuck under the weight of the girl's body. Even then, Thomas could see her panties. They were white, with light blue stripes. Without thinking his gloved hand reached for the fabric, and touched the top part of her mound softly.

Nothing happened. The rubber finger slid downward, pressing ever more firmly, until the support underneath the fabric disappeared. He had found The Slit.

Christine's pussy, Thomas realized. He had been touching Christine's pussy. His hand reached for his own groin, The Stud pressing firmly against the industrial-grade material. He tried rubbing it, but it just wasn't working. Too much thick fabric between his hand and pleasure. He considered removing his suit to fulfill his fleshly desires, but that might set off too many bells, not to mention somehow break the trance. Nothing, not even ejaculating on Christine's bare tummy, was worth being waterboarded in some CIA holding cell.

Frustrated at himself, he yanked Christine's pants past the obstacle, more forcefully than he had planned. A few moments later they were past the ankles and bunched up on the floor. With a hand again clumsily rubbing his nether regions, he proceeded to remove the panties without thinking too much about it.

He felt a brief sting at the sight of her trimmed bush. All the girls in the porn had a shaved pussy, or maybe a small strip. Of course, Christine was not a porn actress, and that was good. Maybe this meant she wasn't showing her privates to guys very much. Also good. Besides, it looked cute, framing The Slit nicely, and made her look more adult.

"Warning. Slow progress on the maintenance. One (1) warning(s) left."

Oh shit. Seriously. Thomas was going to kill whoever designed the warning system. Fine. He could always relive this in his memories. He predicted he'd relive this about three times a day for a good while.

Nothing to do but proceed with the check-up. Cursing under his breath he went to the bag and took out a sort of a funnel, with the inside covered in a foamy material. He pressed it to Christina's beautiful left breast and held it there until there was a beep from the tablet, just as the instructions had told him to do.

"Measurements registered successfully," the tablet beeped.

He replicated the procedure on Christine's equally beautiful right breast.

"Parameters within the expected envelope. No artifact detected."

Basically, her breasts were the same as the last time. The last time, when some other dude did the exact same thing. Stripped her, looked at her bare pussy, put instruments to where sunlight did not shine. Thomas felt sick again, and had to swallow several times to keep him from soiling the inside of his visor.

Since this was a routine checkup, there was just one more item to do. Thomas was at the same time happy and very, very sad he would not be scheduled to perform any of the more thorough measurements.

He put the funnel back in the bag and took out an instrument that looked kind of a comb. He put it carefully on Christine's mound, right at the center of the hair, and pressed a button on the spine of the comb. Laser beams shot out from the comb and started scanning back and forth. A few minutes later a pleasant chime sounded from the tablet.

"Measurement registered successfully. Parameters within the expected envelope. No artifact detected."

Looking at Christine's vulva from up close had caused a major artifact in Thomas's brain, however. His gaze had been locked in her lips, slightly apart, their pinkness inviting him in. His hand that wasn't operating the instrument had not left his crotch the whole time. The pressure was becoming unbearable. Only a few more minutes until he could go home and go jerk off in a smelly bathroom because he didn't want to do it when his roommate was in.

"Thirty minutes elapsed," the tabled noted, and Thomas was getting ready for another warning. "Start break?"

This break sure would have been appreciated earlier. Also, why complain about the progress speed if there is time for breaks? Whoever designed this really didn't think it through. Thomas did, of course, click the green "Yes" button, and proceeded to sit down next to naked Christine. He looked at his gloves. Thick rubber, though with a surprising amount of flexibility and sensitivity. They would be great for wanking, but he still didn't want to un-suit himself. Feeling powerless he looked at his groin when he noticed something remarkable. A double zipper! Of course! Maintenance techs would have to be able to pee, right? Even fighter pilots peed during long flights. They just open the zipper and let go into a specifically designed receptacle.

This was worth a try. He pulled open the zipper, waiting for sirens to descend from the ceiling and start blasting an alert signal. Nothing came. The tablet didn't say anything, the girls didn't wake up.

That was all the encouragement Thomas needed. He pulled his dick out from his boxers and through the opening in the zipper. The cool rubber felt foreign, but extremely erotic on his slick meat. As he slowly fucked the glove he paced toward Christina's head. He wanted to look at her as he came. His dear Christine.

After about the seventh rub he started to feel a familiar tingle in his balls. With this kind of excitement, it was a wonder he lasted this long. The turret was pointing in the general direction of Christine's face.

He could not under any circumstances cum on her face.

Thomas panicked. Glove? No, then everything would get sticky. Trash can? Too smelly. Tissues? There were none visible. His cock started to throb, the payload on its way. Thomas did the only thing he could think of, and stuffed the instrument back into the suit. There, the head started to spew sticky substances all over the inside of the suit.

Even worse, the orgasm was kind of ruined. He couldn't milk it out the way he usually did, and he was left with a deep dissatisfaction despite the half-gallon of jizz now pooling in the rubber boot of his right leg.

As if on cue, the tabled chirped to life. "Break time remaining: Thirty seconds." Grabbing the tablet with the less sticky glove Thomas stopped the break timer.

"All tasks completed. End shift?"

There were many good reasons to end the shift and go home, wash up, and have another fap, but he was too curious to see what would happen if he pressed no. So he did.

"Overtime activated. Searching for nearby assignments...done. One assignment found in proximity. Stafford, Lara. Level two check due soon. Accept?"