Health 101 -- More Games

In the lounge area outside the cubicles I picked a clean lab coat off a hook and slipped it on over my smooth naked body. Nudity is fine, but clothing has its purposes, not the least of which is to provide pockets for notebooks, pencils, and so on. I scribbled a brief note about Andy's progress; he had honestly admitted his desire to see my body and had made an effort to masturbate while I watched. He still had some hope of success in my class, although he was a hair's-breadth from expulsion.

I slipped into the next cubicle. Anna was leaning back against one arm of the sofa, her legs spread wantonly. She was fingering her curly-haired pussy while James, on the other end of the couch, bent forward in intent observation. They both froze when they noticed my presence.

"Please continue," I said pleasantly, making another note. As I had expected, Anna was nearly naked, her skirt bunched up around her waist and her blouse open to display her white breasts. James was still fully clothed.

Anna mumbled apologetically, "I was just showing James what feels good to my pussy...."

"Excellent," I said. "That was the assignment, or part of it anyway. Did James show you how he likes to please himself?"

"Not yet," Anna said, her disappointment evident on her broad, friendly face. "He says he's nervous about taking his clothes off in front of me."

"Let's try this," I suggested. "It might help James warm up if you sat closer together." They slid slightly closer to the center of the couch. "Closer still," I prompted. They moved again until they were sitting in close proximity, ignoring each other studiously. "You remind me of strangers forced to share a seat on the bus," I said. "Act like you like each other at least a little."

Anna leaned her head back and rested it on James' shoulder. She placed one plump hand on his thigh and rubbed it encouragingly. James' hands fluttered like nervous birds. "Put one arm around her, James. That's good. Anna, would you mind if James touched your breast with his other hand?"

Anna shook her head, smiling. James' shaking hand hovered over her alabaster breast, then settled onto it tentatively. As he gathered his courage, he homed in on her light pink nipple and squeezed it gently. They both moaned, then looked into each other's eyes and giggled.

"You're both too silly," I reprimanded. "Let's move on to another exercise for a moment." Usually I consider erotic kissing to be a more advanced exercise than self-stimulation, but in this case.... "Anna, lean back in James' arms. Make him hold you. That's it." Anna lay back in James' arms, her charming semi-nude body across his lap. "What does this make you want to do, James?" I was hoping he would not say "run away."

"Kiss her," he whispered hoarsely.

"Excellent instincts, James!" I congratulated him. "Would you mind if he kissed you, Anna?"

"I would like it a lot," Anna murmured.

"So do it, James," I prompted. James lowered his head and grazed Anna's forehead with his lips. They both looked at me for approval. "Not exactly what I had in mind," I said. "But it's a start. You can --" I hesitated. Perhaps James' instincts were not to be ignored. If he had never kissed a girl before, he should be allowed to reach this goal slowly. "You can now examine Anna's face with your lips and your fingers, James," I told him gently. "See how she feels. See how she tastes. And note her responses and go with them."

I noted the frustrated tension in Anna's posture. She had probably been looking forward to her first close-up view of a horny cock. "You have a big responsibility here, Anna. You must help James learn how to kiss. It is a very important skill. I assume that you have some experience in that area yourself?"

Anna grinned. "I know how I like it," she said.

"That will do for a start," I said. "James may not be ready to show you how he masturbates just yet, but you may play with your pussy while he kisses you. This will help him get used to the idea."

In the next cubicle, I found Jason and Cynthia stark naked, their clothes strewn around as if they had been in a hurry to get rid of them. They sat side by side on the couch, their legs spread in front of them, eyes closed and masturbating furiously. If I was not mistaken, and I seldom am, Jason was very close to coming, and Cynthia was not far behind.

"Time for a break," I chirped mischievously. They both squealed with humiliation and stopped what they were doing. "Looks like you're both moving along nicely," I told them. "But I would like you to observe each other, particularly as you approach orgasm. Turn to face each other now. You may each lean back against the opposite ends of the couch. Perfect. Now bring your legs up...if your feet touch you may transmit some of what you are feeling to your partner. Good. Now resume, slowly. And do not close your eyes."

Jason went back to steadily stroking his thickly-veined cock, while Cynthia's slim fingers massaged her tiny pink clit. "Try to hold your pussy open with your other hand so he can see better," I suggested. She blushed but pulled her pussy lips agape. Her little blond snatch was definitely juicy. I picked up a tube of K-Y and squeezed a generous dollop onto the purple head of Jason's circumcised cock. "Keep it lubricated, Jason. You don't want it to get sore, because you will be using it a lot from now on. Now tell Cynthia what you are feeling."

"I, uh, oh god, I feel like there's a spring winding up inside me, gets tighter every time I slide my hand over the head of my cock," Jason groaned. "I feel like my come is boiling in my balls, about to explode...."

"How about you, Cindy?" I asked her.

"I'm so hot," Cynthia whimpered. "Hot and cold at the same time, somehow. And it's like there is electricity sparking between my nipples and running down into my pussy. My pussy is so slippery...it never feels this wet when I'm by myself. And it's like there's a big empty space opening up inside my pussy. Like I want something to be in there, in me...."

Cindy's monologue seemed to be having an effect of Jason, as his breathing became raspy and his stroking quickened. Fluid began leaking noticeably from the swollen head of his fat cock. The muscles in his thighs were taut and quivering. His nut-sack had drawn up close to his cock, the balls no longer bouncing with his increasingly rapid strokes.

"What do you think would feel good in your pussy right now, Cindy?" I asked. "Anything in particular that you are wishing for right now?"

"I wish..." Cynthia's breath was sobbing in her throat, and a shiver caused her breasts to bob enticingly. "I wish Jason's cock was inside me right now."

I was about to remind her that this was not going to happen any time soon, but the effect of her remark on Jason was instantaneous.

"Ohhh, OH MY GOD!" Jason groaned as a hefty wad of sperm jetted out of his swollen cock. Cynthia shrieked as the hot spunk splattered on her flushed chest, between her lovely breasts. She stopped playing with herself and watched, wide-eyed, as Jason continued to spurt gooey ropes of jism with diminishing intensity, liberally decorating her belly, thighs and finally his own hand with his copious load. Looking toward me for approval, she touched the messy splotch between her breasts with one curious fingertip.

"That's right, Cindy," I encouraged. "See what his come feels like. Scoop some of it up with your finger and look at it closely. Smell it, too. And now taste it..."

Tentatively, Cynthia licked her gooey finger, then smiled broadly. "It smells kind of like bleach, but it tastes good!" she exclaimed. "The taste...somehow reminds me of freshly mowed grass? But a little salty...I want more!"

"There's more on your belly and thighs," I pointed out. "Get some of that in your hand, but don't gobble it all down -- why don't you slide over and sit in his lap? Good, good. Now let him taste some of it."

James smiled, still enjoying the afterglow of his orgasm. "I never tasted it before," he admitted. He cautiously licked Cindy's finger. "It doesn't taste bad...."

"Watch Cindy enjoy the taste of your come," I instructed. She gazed into his eyes wantonly as she licked his sticky fluids off her palm. He hugged her tightly and squirmed his hips uncomfortably, trying to rearrange the position of his cock, which had begun to soften but was now expanding once again.

"Now Cindy has enjoyed seeing you come, I'm sure," I said. "And I think she'd like to give you the same kind of pleasure. So, Cindy, why don't you take Jason's hand and use it to rub your clitty? Maybe you can come right on his hand."

Cynthia guided Jason's trembling finger to her sweaty cleft and rubbed it around her protruding clit. Instantly her body stiffened. He held her close as he fingered her, his nose buried in her curly hair. She released his hand, allowing him to continue what she had shown him, and put her arms around his neck, drawing his mouth down to hers. "You're making me come," she whispered against his lips. "Just keep doing it just like that... You're really making me come... you're making me come right now..." He silenced her with his probing tongue as her body shuddered convulsively.

When she relaxed, I said, "That was very good. Now look at your fingers, Jason. They're wet and slippery, aren't they? Cynthia's pussy was wet before, from her excitement, but it's wetter now that you have made her come. Taste what you have done to her....doesn't she taste good?"

"She tastes WONDERFUL," Jason murmured appreciatively. "I love the taste of your pussy, Cindy," he said, "and I love the taste of my come on your tongue."

"Why don't the two of you just stretch out there together and rest for a few minutes while you cool off?" I suggested. "You can tell each other what you liked about what you just did, how it's different from when you do it alone, and how it's the same." I spread a blanket over them and turned to leave. "And, Jason? I know your cock is hard again, and I know you would like to slip it into Cindy's hot little pussy right this minute. Believe me: That would be a big mistake. You both have a long way to go before you are ready for that. I'm trusting you now. Don't make me sorry."

In the next cubicle I found Michael and Pamela in their underwear, glaring at each other. Michael was wiping come off his hand. "I did it and let you watch, now you have to let me watch you do it," he complained.

"I was doing it inside my panties while you were showing off," Pamela snarled. "If you weren't paying attention it isn't my fault. Now I'm tired of doing it and I'm not going to do it any more."

Time for me to intervene, for sure. "Are you two having a problem?" I asked.

"She won't let me see anything," Michael complained.

"He came all over himself, he ought to be happy with that," Pamela pouted. "Why should I let him look at me? I don't even like him."

"I did not tell you that you had to do a demonstration," I reminded them. "I asked only that you engage in a frank discussion of your personal masturbation techniques. Anyone who is comfortable with "show and tell" is, of course, encouraged to do that, but they should not feel coerced."

"She didn't tell, either," Michael muttered. "And I didn't do anything to her, I don't know why she hates me."

I sighed. "I am not asking you to fall in love with each other. In fact, I would prefer that you did not. We are here to learn about sex, which is more easily studied when separated from emotional attachments." I squinted at Pamela. "You seem quite tense, Pam. Are we moving just a little too fast for you?" Possibly my previous assessment of Pamela had been inaccurate. Her appearance was quite striking -- tall, statuesque, with glorious red hair and emerald eyes, she attracted stares wherever she went. While she did not appear to be consciously encouraging male attention, there was something about her, something that she seemed to be unsuccessfully trying to conceal, that screamed "Fuck me!"

"I'm dropping this course," Pam declared, her lower lip trembling. "I don't like all this sex talk and besides there's more important things in life than sex and I....I...." She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

"Leave us, Michael," I ordered softly. "Wait for me in my office, please. I believe there's a video on female masturbation in the VCR right now. Please watch that while you wait. Don't worry; you're not in trouble. I just need to work with Pamela for a few minutes."

"Pam, dear, would you like to tell me what's really bothering you?" I asked, seating myself next to her on the couch and putting my arm around her shaking shoulders. She shook her head, continuing to sob miserably. "You can, of course, drop my course if you want, but I'm afraid that won't solve all your problems. Is there some trauma in your past that is suddenly coming back to haunt you when you start to think about sex?"

Pamela turned to hide her face against my shoulder and sobbed harder still. I held her and rocked her gently. "I can almost certainly help you, dear, if you let me," I told her gently. "Just tell me what is making you so unhappy."

"No one likes me, and my pussy is ugly, and I can't COME!" Pamela sobbed. "I don't know if I even like boys, they just make me feel frustrated. I just wish I could die right now!"

"Shhh....shhhh.....shhhh...." I murmured, rocking her gently. For myself, I was greatly relieved. Nothing serious here, after all. There may be women in this world who really are incapable of orgasm, but I have never met one. "Let's address your concerns one at a time, shall we?"

I stood, pulling her up beside me, and led her to the mirrored panel at one end of the cubicle. "Let's look at our bodies together, OK?"

Pamela nodded, tears still leaking from her bottle-green cat's eyes. I let my lab coat fall to the floor and examined my body critically. "Now look at me, Pam. I'm pretty sure you've heard talk among your classmates. All the boys would like to fuck me, wouldn't they?"

Pamela's eyes widened. "You know what they say? They think you're hotter than the models in those awful magazines. Michael said he'd give his left nut to fuck you. It's not just the boys, either." She looked down, embarrassed. "Some of the girls say they have sexy dreams about you too."

"But look closely at my body, Pam," I said. "Let's start with my hair. It's not anywhere near as pretty as yours, is it?"

"My hair only causes problems," Pam said dismissively. "I almost cut it all off a few times. Boys think that girls with red hair are slutty. I hate it."

"What they think is that they would like to touch it, and hold it up to the sun, and look at all the different colors that combine to give it that lovely shine," I retorted. "And if redheads have a reputation for being hot, why should you mind? I would love to have hair like that, but you can't get it from a bottle.... Now look at my breasts. What do you see?"

"They're big and soft and sexy, and your nipples are almost always sticking right out," Pamela said. "Mine are little and hard and my nipples are tiny. I don't even need a bra, I don't know why I bother. I'm going to get breast implants..."

I looked at her inquiringly. Her breasts were firm and lovely, and no smaller than mine for that matter. "I think maybe you should take your bra off and check again," I said. "Let's just do a side by side comparison."

Hesitantly she unfastened her brassiere and let it drop to the floor. Her breasts were heart-breakingly lovely; firm and high, as if carved from peach-colored alabaster, and tipped with tiny pale pink nipples, which quickly stiffened in the cool air. I cupped my own breasts in my two hands and held them up for comparison. "My breasts sag," I said sadly, "And it's not just because I'm 20 years older than you. They were never as perfect as yours, even when I was your age. But I'm glad I never let a surgeon near them with a knife. I believe the Goddess gave us what we have for a reason, and it's not a good idea to mess with it. And look; one of mine is even a little smaller than the other. I was embarrassed about that for a long time, but, you know? No one has ever mentioned it to me. Here; touch. You'll see what I mean."

Pamela stepped back, looking into my eyes to see if I was serious. Her steady green gaze decided that I was, and she cautiously reached out to hold my breasts. "I see now," she whispered. "The left one is a little smaller...but they're still gorgeous. And your nipples are so big and hard...and the brown, uh, aureoles? They make them look so much bigger."

We continued the body inventory, with Pamela coming out ahead on every point. "But I have hair in places that girls shouldn't have," she whispered eventually.

"Who told you that?" I scolded. "That is the most ignorant complaint I've heard you make yet."

She hung her head. "My high-school boyfriend," she squeaked miserably. "He started to put his hand in my pants once and when he felt hair on my back and lower belly he got so disgusted he..."

"You are well rid of that one," I said grimly. "Of all the ignorant, STUPID things I have ever heard....Okay. Never mind. Let me explain. It appears that the gene that gives the lucky ones your spectacular hair color often includes some other characteristics. I don't know why, and it really doesn't matter, but rest assured that there is nothing "abnormal" about you. And, in fact, you do NOT have hair in places girls are not supposed to have it. It's just that your hairs are all thicker and healthier than those of less ordinary colors. So it might seem like you have hair in odd places, but you don't. Everyone has hairs all over their bodies. It's often just too fine to see. Any man who is not terminally ignorant would know that.... Okay, enough already. Let's look at our pussies."

I ignored the fact that Pamela was still wearing her underwear for the moment and thrust my hips forward to display my pussy to the mirror better. "I have shaved mine for instructional purposes. I don't recommend that, but you might want to trim your bush if it is extremely luxurious, which yours probably is. My outer lips are somewhat puffy right now, partly because I am a little aroused from what I have seen in some of these cubicles today." I grinned at her. "Have you ever had a good close-up look at anyone else's pussy? Or your own?"

"Amber showed me hers up close," Pamela said faintly. "But I didn't want to show her mine. And she wanted to show me mine in a hand mirror, but I didn't want to do that either."

"Why, dear? Did Amber say something rude to you? Or is it just because Amber's enthusiasm is sometimes a little, well, overwhelming, shall we say?"

"I wanted to do it at first," Pamela sniffled, "but when I saw how tiny and cute Amber's pussy was I was afraid she would laugh at me."

I began to suspect that I knew what the real problem was already. "We'll take care of this," I promised her. "Excuse me for a minute while I go and get some things which will be helpful. You can take your panties off and sit on the couch while I'm gone.

When I returned, Pamela was sitting on the couch, naked, with her hands in her lap, artfully covering her flaming red patch. I knelt in front of her. "Just move your hands and spread your legs a little so we can have a good look at that cute little red-haired snatch," I coaxed her. "I brought this mirror so you can see what I'm seeing....legs apart a little more, please....yes. Okay, help me adjust the angle on the mirror so you can see."

It was as I had suspected. Even with her outer pussy lips nearly closed, Pamela's inner lips protruded outside them by a good half inch. They were a deep red color, were longer than they needed to be as well as wider, and appeared to be chapped along the edges. "Oh, such a lovely pair of flower petals!" I exclaimed. Reverently I spread them with two fingers and found a tiny cunt near the bottom. Her clit was completely hidden where the lips came together at the top of her slit. The whole thing was quite dry.