An internet search reveals that no one has ever used this name, despite its brevity. But I can't claim originality -- I saw it long ago as graffiti on a water tower. “Nooo!!” The naked teenager twisted wildly, but could not shake loose from the strong male hands pulling her to the railing. It had a low bar for kneeling and reminded Tami of in church where she used to go for communion during Mass. But what a sacrament she was about to receive! The row of ornamented tail

This is the ending of “The Adventures of a Naked Girl in Love”. An early effort, but of all my Tami stories I still like this one the best. Three hours later, Tami Smithers ran down onto the street and started her freezing run for Pilgrim Hall, clutching in her hand the photo of her and Rod taken at the dance. She figured it would take less than a minute to get to her dorm. With her first bounding jumps she laughed as she heard the loud vaginal farts as air escaped from h

Hyacinth carefully nibbled at the burnt marshmallow, then got her mouth around it and gulped it down, leaving just a gloopy white trace on the stick, and leaned against Wendy Mac for warmth and carefully put her dusty feet a little closer to the fire. She looked at the big tent appreciatively, looking forward to burrowing into one of those sleeping bags they’d brought. It was chilly already, even though sunset was still maybe an hour away. An occasional wind kicked up and

Hank smiled as his girlfriend approached, tan and lithe and tall and purposeful and serious as always, though with a smile and a nice little wet kiss on the lips for him. For the tall dark-haired girl with the neat short pony tail it was time for her afternoon sprint. Wendy Mac was now captain of the track team and had been put in charge of training others. Two companions in sweat clothes and sneakers clumped along behind her in the wet snow, Tommy Chen, who had just made

It was, as I say, an uncomfortable journey. Like everyone else I was glad to get back to the Palace and shower myself off. The rooms here, though small and not equipped with modern conveniences like electricity or telephones, are quaint and comfortable. Despite the culture’s general disapproval of alcohol there is a well-stocked bar in an alcove hidden next to the front hall, one assumes for the convenience of foreigners. I chatted with the bartender, who is originally fr

They were lucky. All the practice rooms were empty. He led her into the one in the back. Each room was tiny, with room for maybe three chairs and stands. They all had windows, but at least the one in back seemed more secluded. “Here,” he said, nervously placing a sheet of music on her stand as she assembled her clarinet. He had stayed up late writing it, in his overly neat music notation. It was a passage from “You Make Me Feel Brand New”, off one of his father’s CDs.

On this pleasant, sunny, gentle spring day in the academic quad of Campbell - Frank College, right after lunch time, students were passing here and there on the way to classes. To one side, Rockley Hall, the social sciences building, a modernistic white marble geometric shape with clean lines and dark recesses which on closer inspection turn out to be windows; to another side, Ashley Hall, the humanities building, a much older brick and ivy affair with a small statue of Shak

Tami knelt on her haunches, arms around her knees, trying in a useless effort to expel the horrid intruders in her pussy and ass, escape from the bristles torturing her poor nipples. “Please . . . please . . . ” McMasters coldly offered a hand and helped her up. “Very good,” he said, pointing to the little indicator over her clit. Tami looked down at it, defeated. It now said “2”. A minute later, gasping and feeling weak, the girl was squatting on the gyno table, l

McMasters got the box from off the back of the gyno table and said, “Insertion of the retainer is something that you are best off doing yourself. There’s a tube of lubricant in here. Probably the best way is to sit onto the rectal dildo and then wrap the retainer around and insert the front one.” Intensely conscious of the men’s close attention, the naked girl squatted on top of the table and laid the retainer panties out so that the white rectal dildo was standing straigh

Orgasms: 14 Contractions/Last Orgasm: 8 Total Contractions: 151 Time Elapsed: 0:48:22 The naked girl, lying in a fetal position on the bare stage, snored loudly. Her skin was clammy and pale and covered with dried sweat. The only other person in the room, Brendo, was putting away some things at the console. He went over and shut off the electronic counter, then buttoned his lab coat as he went to look at the thermostat on the wall. 61 degrees. He shut off the air cond

Orgasms: 8 Contractions/Last Orgasm: 10 Total Contractions: 73 Time Elapsed: 0:26:13 ​ “Notice that in the interorgasmic periods Miss Smithers has never quite descended from the plateau phase,” McMasters said to his audience, most of whom after almost half an hour were still furiously scribbling notes, trying to take account not only of the sweating, spasming body in front of them but the readouts that flashed on the monitors, the electronic counter, and the movements on

The men behind Tami took one last look at the dildo planted deeply in her butt, then moved around to the front and sat down in the theater seats. All eyes now focused on Tami’s pussy, the lips open between her widely-spread legs, her ankles splayed out and cuffed to the posts way out to each side. Brendo knelt in front of her with another little dildo, covered with gel. “To make room for the frontal insertion we will withdraw most of the rectal dildo,” McMasters said. Mr.

Tami waited for the inevitable, then it came. The cold, wet feel of the dildo against her anus. She exhaled and met Brendo’s gentle push with a push of her own as if she were trying to shit, so that her muscles would more easily accept the intrusion. Much as she hated to admit it, the two of them had become very practiced at this little dance from all the times he had inserted that anal monitor thing during those other experiments. They were a team. “Miss Smithers has ex

19. Finally I note the one conversation I witnessed involving Maik-lings. Principal Zhou and I were talking about drainage infrastructure for the Phase III Construction Program when he received a call about an act of vandalism on the football field fence. Such incidents are very rare in China. Mr. Zhou told me the situation, and said, “We’re investigating . . . of course it can’t be the Maik-lings, they never do anything wrong, but Chyou and Qinyang are possible witness

How College Is Different from High School by Tami Smithers Ms. Fieldstone, English Comp I01 My first impression in September was that the campus of Campbell-Frank College is very beautiful. I never saw such green grass all over. There are a lot of trees too, big ones, and when all those leaves fell in October it was very pretty. We have a nice fall season in Rhode Island, too, but not like this. And now the snow is about to start. The buildings are laid out wel

Bleaahhhhhh. The bitter taste of that “barium milkshake” still lingered in her throat. She had bravely gulped it down as the team stood around her in that cold sterile lab, perhaps taking extra interest in the tectonic tremors of her breasts as she took gulp after nasty gulp. Now, in the brightly lit gym, Dareen turned her attention to the task at hand, the strength test. These were the heaviest barbells that could be obtained, apparently; in her mind she added u

Tami looked lazily out the window. The tree-covered hills were still and hot in the midday sun. Looking ahead, she noticed a police car had stopped someone. She eased her bare foot off the gas so that she was going 55. McMasters was right; there was a speed trap here. A lazy, hot, dusty day. There hadn’t been much rain lately. She licked her lips. Only coffee and a doughnut for breakfast, she was getting hungry. The moron in front of her in the BMW,

Angela supposed she should be admiring the virtuosity of these two girls. “Throaters” and “Plungers” each had an online page on which they discussed the most effective techniques in bringing the Sire to orgasm. Angela had somehow gotten “friended” but didn’t mind it because the material that came her way was pretty amusing. Kai-Kai could not reach orgasm from prostate stimulation alone, which one might think relegated Plungers to second-class status, playing second fiddle so

He waited anxiously, nervously fidgeting with the slide of his trombone. Mr. Watson, whom everyone called “Sarge” from his years as a bandleader in the Army, waited impatiently as Jamal fiddled with the A-V equipment. It was first period practice in the crowded rehearsal room. They had just gone through their usual warm-up tune, “Captains and Kings”. Now they were snorting with anticipation. Except for him. And Brigid in the clarinet section, sitting between Debra and V

Today I was heartened to see that Miss Smithers’s legacy would last at this college long after she graduated. It was an unusually warm day for this time of year, over 60 degrees. Upon leaving the house I needed to put on only a sweater. I decided to take a walk along the college quad. Fitting for the first day of spring, there were students (and some faculty) sitting outside on benches, eating lunch, a few students with guitars. At times like this the college is at its b