(For those of you just tuning in:  Four female post-graduate students in New Mexico are commandeered by aliens who need a little help with a mining project.  Important tasks for the girls include cataloging minerals, and if they have time, taking over the world.  Prior to their encounter with the aliens, the girls had lead dreary lives that included professional and personal failures.  Now, they are exploring what it means to be superhuman.  Tammy has offered the University President a ride home after causing him to sprain his ankle.  Kim has taken revenge upon two of her adversaries, burning their auto dealership to the ground with her inside.)

 

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Part 10

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"Take a right up here," Folsom said.  "The house is at the top of the hill.  It's the, uh, big one."

 

Tammy giggled to herself as she glanced at the uncomfortable expression on Folsom's face.  It isn't often that the President of the University finds himself in the passenger seat of an old beat up Civic, she thought to herself.  I wonder what the neighbors will think.

 

Tammy didn't know exactly why she was so drawn to him.  He was old -- like 50 -- and not that good-looking.  But there was something about his intellect that made him attractive.  Tammy had always been afraid of her professors, particularly the famously brilliant ones.  They always had such elegant and articulate ways of describing complicated concepts.  And she, next to them, often felt, well, stupid.  In fact, she felt stupid next to many of her fellow students as well.

 

And feeling stupid became a self-fulfilling prophesy.   She could name more than a few exams on which she had received a "C" or "F" simply because she had been afraid to tell professors about the material that she did not understand.  She had never been endowed with that natural confidence and curiosity the other students possessed -- the willingness to raise a hand in class, to pull a professor aside in the corridor, and god forbid, to show up at office hours.  Those students were the ones that mastered the material and did well in school.  Tammy had always struggled in anonymous silence.

 

That was what made this simple car ride so exhilarating.  The man in the car with her was not only a professor, but he was the chief of the intellectual giants -- the President of the whole University!  What's more, Tammy beamed, she seemed to be making him at least as nervous as he was making her. 

 

Tammy was glad, she realized, that she had worn the cute sundress today.   It was playful -- a beige sleeveless with a nice scoop neck and a hem at the mid-thigh, and a subtle pattern of golden flowers throughout.  It had a cute little sash tied around the waist as well.

 

Glancing at him again, she felt a nervous, happy flutter in her chest.  He was attractive to her for more than just his intellect.  There was also something attractive about his authority.  Ever since Tammy's transformation, she really liked power, of all kinds.  She liked being super-duper strong, like the way she had dominated those guys in the basketball game, and then ruined them in the ensuing fight.  Or the way that she had conjured a mini hurricane effortlessly.   But, she realized, she liked other kinds of power too.  The President had thousands of employees that he could boss around, millions of dollars that he could spend, and command over University buildings and equipment besides.  That type of power was cool too, and she wanted some of that!

 

They had arrived at his driveway, Tammy realized with dread.  He would be getting out soon, thanking her for the ride, and closing the passenger door behind him.  She didn't want this to end.

 

"Thanks again, Miss.... "

 

"Walters.  Do you need hand getting inside?"

 

"No, I can manage.  Thank you though for the ri...."

 

"Oh my gosh," Tammy squealed.  "You have a pool!"  Tammy had always liked swimming, even in her old body.  And in her new body....

 

The President chuckled uncomfortably.  "You seem pretty excited.  Are you on the swim team?"

 

"No, but I'm an expert diver," Tammy lied.  She turned the car off and opened the door.  "Make you a bet -- if I do a superific dive, I can stay and hang out with you."

 

"I don't think that's really--"

 

"OK, watch!"  Tammy felt the air press her sundress to her skin as she skipped and hopped towards the pool.

 

"Um, Miss Walt---"

 

She ignored him.  Tammy leapt carelessly into the air, sailing up 20 feet before coming back down on the diving board.  Her plant on the diving board was perfect, launching her twice as high over the pool.  Tammy went into a tuck and did six full turns before entering the water.  There was no splash.

 

She surfaced to hear the sound of the President's clapping hands.  "Quite impressive," he said nervously.  "I don't think I've seen anything quite like that, even on the Olympics. You should consid---"

 

"Impressive, my ass."  Tammy beamed as she treaded water.  "I could do twice that if I was really trying.   You're not going to come in?"  She had begun a lazy breast stroke across the pool.

 

"No, thanks," The President said as he hobbled across the pool deck toward the sliding door.

 

"Well fine," Tammy groaned, swimming over to the stairs.  "Them I'm coming out."

 

As Tammy began to pull herself out of the water, she watched the President's eyes grow self-consciously wide.  Glancing down at herself, she belatedly realized why.  The sundress was clinging to her like a second skin and her mammoth tits stood proudly at attention, she noted with a giggle.  Her tits were, course, unfettered by any of those bras that other women had to wear, so every bump and nuance of her aureoles could be read through the gauzy cloth.  And of course the aureoles were headlined by her unapologetic nipples, which were now doubling in size-- to more than in inch long -- under the weight of his stare.

 

As she further emerged from the water, Tammy allowed herself to feel a fresh sense of thrill at seeing her fantastic body so displayed.  Her abs were a perfect six pack, creating subtle ridges and valleys beneath the gauzy material of the sundress.  It was a great contrast, she realized: cute little flowers on top, and a regiment's worth of muscle beneath.

 

With the cool desert air now tickling her top half, she finished the ascent.  Her shapely hips and thighs forced rivulets of water to follow slalom courses to find the ground.  Her bare, elegant legs followed, water sheeting off of them as she climbed.  In the setting sun, her thighs and calves were endless rivers of bright gold.

 

Tammy glanced proudly up at President Folsom, his eyes bewildered and his mouth slightly agape.  She stood passively for a moment, a slight smile on her face, arms at her sides, drops of water quietly making a thip-thip as they found the ground.  From her experience with Steve, she had learned the value of giving men a few seconds to adjust to the reality of how hot she was.  Men couldn't be expected to absorb it all instantly: their brains didn't seem to be wired to adjust that quickly.

 

After watching his eyes take eight or nine laps around her body, Tammy finally broke the silence.  "You like?"

 

The President smiled.  "Yes, gosh," he stammered.  "You're very .... pretty.  And now that you've cooled off, perhaps it's time for you to be --"

 

"-- on my way?  That's what you were going to say, wasn't it?" She playfully chided.  "Come on, the least you can offer me is a fresh change of clothes." 

 

"I have my wife's clothes here, but that wouldn't be appropriate."

 

Tammy pouted-- a devastating heart-stopping pout.

 

"Let me see what I can find." 

 

"Yea!" She squealed, clapping and rising up on the balls of her feet.  She had him.  She knew it.

 

The President unlocked the house and disappeared inside.  "I think I have some old jeans and t-shirts," he shouted, "but I need to dig around."

 

A minute passed. 

 

"You're taking too long, Pres!"  She shouted, just outside the doorway with a pool of water at her feet.  "I'm getting cold.  I need to get out of this dress."   It was a lie, in a way.  She was never cold anymore.  But she did need to get out of that dress.

 

A voice in the back of her head told her that this wasn't right.  He was a married man.  If she seduced him, his wife would be crushed to learn that he had slept with a younger woman, and a fantastically beautiful one at that.  She couldn't think of a specific reason that she absolutely had to have him.  Only that it might feel good.  But that's not reason enough, she knew.  I should restrain myself,  she thought.

 

But then she turned her attention to the sopping sundress that still clung to her sides.  Gosh, she admitted to herself, I really want to be free of that thing.  It is pretty to look at, sure.  But it's so limiting!  When I was in my old body, I used clothes to cover the ugly parts and to make myself a little prettier.  But I don't have ugly parts anymore.  Every square inch of skin, every muscle, every hair, every pore -- is perfect.  My body wants to been seen, she realized.  It needs to be seen.

 

Another minute passed.  Damn it, she thought, I can't stand this any longer.  Maybe if I seduced him just a little bit.

 

"OK, I'm coming in!" she yelled.  Undoing the belt sash and slipping her arms through the shoulder straps, she pulled the dress down over herself.  The action elicited a slight tearing sound as the neckline cleared her bust, which only made her giggle more. 

 

She left the sopping garment in a pile on the deck and sauntered into the house clad only in her tiny panties.  That's a relief, she thought to herself.  So much less constricting, she thought as she gazed over her fantastic curves!  And wow, I'm glad that my body is finally on full display.  I keep forgetting how hot I really am.

 

Tammy was busy tying her hair in a loose, wet knot when the President reemerged, jeans and a t-shirt in hand.  He stopped short in embarrassment when he saw her.   And she delighted in watching his eye explore her near-nakedness for the first time-- to take in the improbability of her proportions, the suppleness of her musculature and the flawlessness of her skin.  She watched the emotions dance across his face.  This will be so easy, she said to herself!

 

Tammy sashayed up to him, swinging her hips gracefully as she went.  "That dress was sopping wet.  And had to I take it off all on my own," she pouted.  "But maybe you could help me with the panties."

 

---

 

 

"This is CBC News 4 reporting live from the site of the ongoing fire at Vicuzzi Brothers Auto on Industrial Boulevard.  We have breaking coverage on this dramatic conflagration, which has consumed the entire dealership facility.  We understand that the fire has resulted in two fatalities: the two brothers after whom the dealership is named.  A third person was inside when the buildings began to succumb to flames.  Kim De Luca, a local graduate student at UNM, escaped without injury and is with us now."

 

Clothed only in the wool emergency blanket that had been thrown over her shoulders after she had been carried to safety, Kim had been staring blankly into the fire.  She watched the shimmer of its amber glow and listened to the crumbling of the building as its remains collapsed in on themselves. 

 

What now, she wondered absently?  I've eliminated the two guys that I hated.  Now what?  More sex?  More revenge?  Is there anything else?

 

She thought back to her romp in the Mayor's mansion -- the sumptuousness of the linens, the expensive hardwoods, the elegant marble.  It was fun to fuck him.  But it would have been nicer to BE him.  Why couldn't she have the awesome house, the expensive cars?  Why was she still wearing $25 jeans and panties with holes in them?  Sure, she could go back to the mayor's house, as a guest, as a mistress, as a continuing temptation in his life.  But she could not move into that mansion and live there.  She was just a visitor in another man's world.  She wanted more than simply to be around wealth and power.  She wanted to have it herself.

 

Kim watched with fascination as the camera turned to her.  She had never been newsworthy before, and the attention was strange to her.  But as she peered into the convex gloss of the lens, a plan began to stake shape.

 

"Ms. De Luca, tell us about your ordeal inside that fiery nightmare."

 

"Well," Kim forced herself to choke up, "I went in there to buy a car, and there were only two guys there.  They were busy doing some kind of work on the gas tank out back, and it somehow caught on fire and exploded into the building.  I don't know," she began to sob, "it was so SCARY in there.  There were flames and smoke, and there was so much oil and gas in the body shop, it just went up so quickly.   And... and... " She now let the tears roll.  "I saw the guys on fire too."

 

"That's terrible," the reporter responded in a somber voice.  "Is there anything else you can tell us?"

 

Kim smiled to herself.  This was all coming out so naturally.  The wool blanket was a little bit scratchy and formless, but had all the flexibility she needed to show a little skin.  She shifted the blanket so that it would "accidentally" slide a few inches off her shoulders, baring her upper torso down to the foothills of her twin mountains.

 

"Well," she wiped back a tear, "I don't know what I'm going to do.  I needed a car for my new job, I had saved and saved and saved to buy one, and all the cash for that was in my purse when I walked into the dealership!"  She let the tears roll in full again.  "Somehow, I got separated from my purse in the fire, and I'm sure it's just ashes now.  I have hardly a dime to my name.  Lots of friends have posted notes of encouragement to my Facebook page, but.... but...."

 

Kim took a deep breath, accentuating a bust line that needed no accentuating.  She put on her dreamiest bedroom eyes and stared right into the lens.  "... but I feel so alone."

 

The reporter took over from there, talking about fire investigators, the valiant fire department, how unusually fast the fire was, blah blah blah.  Kim didn't really hear the rest.  She walked away from the cameras, baffling a reporter who had hoped to ask her one more question.  A group of appreciative fireman had been circling around the edge of the interview, and she walked up to one of them with a casual air.

 

"I need to get on a computer and let people know that I am ok," she said in a pleading voice.

 

"OK.  You can definitely use the laptop we have at the firehouse."

 

"Awesome!"  She beamed.

 

Twenty minutes later, Kim was sitting in the Engine Company #3 firehouse, clad in department-issued sweatpants and sweatshirt.  As she paged through her Facebook account, a huge smile crossed her face. 

 

"So surprised you got out alive!" Louisa had posted jokingly.  "Glad you're ok," Jared had written sincerely. 

 

But that wasn't what made her smile.  Instead, it was the dozens of postings from strangers, all offers of help.  Kim read them with bated breath.  One said "Hey, you look really sweet and pretty.  It sounds like you're on some hard times financially.  I've been pretty lucky in life and I think I can help.  Shoot me an email and maybe we can meet up for a drink, or something more."

 

There were few other postings that took a similar tone.  Kim beamed in delight -- sugar daddies!  Her plan was working out perfectly.  She Googled all of them, and the search results showed one of them to be wealthier than the rest.  She quickly tapped out a response to him, and after waiting about 20 minutes, was soon booked on a hot date at the best steakhouse in Phoenix.  He was even sending his plane out to pick her up.  It was going to be, literally, a fun ride.

 

"Is there anything else I can get you?"  The voice came from behind Kim as she slapped the cover of the laptop closed.

 

Kim glanced up at the fireman and felt a little flutter in her chest.  He was a cutie -- sandy blond hair, a smile with dimples, and playful hazel eyes that seemed to smile with the rest of his face.    What's more, he was built -- she could see well-defined muscles on his exposed arms, and his broad back filled out his t-shirt beautifully.  Kim knew that his muscles were pitifully weak next to the superhuman genetics of her own, but it didn't matter: his body LOOKED great.  It was something like fine crystal: you had to be careful when you touched it, but, man, was it pretty!

 

Kim felt the blood rise to her cheeks as she looked at him.  In the few short days she had been in her new body, she hadn't played around with any really hot guys.  There were the three that she slept with from the frat party, but they were just ok looking.  And the mayor had been pudgy and over the hill.  But this dude -- he was actually hot!  He was the type of guy that the old Kim would have fantasized about and swooned over.  But he never would have given the old Kim the time of day. 

 

She wondered what it would feel like to have his large, delicate muscles wrapped around her in a sensuous embrace.  The thought triggered a bit of habitual nervousness-- even though she had New Kim's body, she still had Old Kim's instincts and fears.  Did she really have what it took to go after an older man -- and one this totally hot?   Nonetheless, she thought, running her hands over her shapely thighs, maybe it was time to try.  She did have the afternoon free, after all...

 

"You guys have been wonderful."  Kim responded with a radiant smile.  "Do you mind if I hang out here a little bit?  The fire was really traumatic for me and being around you guys is .... comforting."

 

"Uh sure, that's fine," he replied with innocent enthusiasm.

 

"So, what do you guys do when you're not putting out fires.  Just sit around?"

 

"We check the equipment.  We clean and polish the truck.  We do our chores."

 

"That sounds dull.  Maybe we can spice things up.  How much warning do you get before you have to respond to a fire?"

 

"Only about 20 seconds."

 

"That sucks.  So, you can't really start any... in depth.... projects." 

 

"Right."

 

Kim paused in thought.  "I need some fresh air.  I'll be back in a few minutes."

 

The Engine Company's truck must have been 50 feet long, gleaming red in the afternoon sun.  Kim casually ambled to the front of the truck, looking about her as she did so.  All of the firefighter guys were inside the building -- hanging out in the break room, cooking food in the kitchen, pumping pathetically small amounts of iron in the weight room.

 

Luckily, the engine company was at the end of a quiet street, free from prying eyes.  Glancing around to see that she was unwatched, Kim tentatively reached both hands under the front bumper of the truck.  As she did so, the familiar nervousness returned.  Messing around with a natural gas tank was one thing, but this was another level entirely.  Did she have it in her?

 

Steeling her courage, she heaved her arms upwards, hoping she would be able to budge the truck up a foot or two.  Instead, the truck seemed almost to spring upwards, and soon she was holding its front end aloft at waist level.   She examined her biceps, which had flared a bit in order to handle the load.  God, she thought to herself, this body is just crazy!  Her biceps didn't feel strained or exhausted at all.  It was as if they had gone through nothing more than the first rep in a very light workout!

 

Shifting the weight of the truck to her left arm, Kim raised the truck above her head and examined the underside -- a mayhem of metal pipes, struts and plates.  Reaching forward with her right hand, she shifted the weight of the truck to that arm and stepped into the shadow of the vehicle.  How unfamiliar, she thought, to be in the shadow of an object that I'm holding!

 

Kim was not a "car girl", and didn't know her way around the underside at all.  But she was knowledgeable enough to know a transaxle when she saw it.  Tentatively, Kim grabbed the thick steel, gouging into it like dough.  With growing confidence, she cocked her arm back and prepared to swing at the truck karate-chop style.  After taking a deep breath, she yelped "eeee-yaaah!" and swung at the axle.  When her hand contacted it, the axle gave off a loud "SNAP".  She felt the steel object sever under her blow, offering no more resistance than a dry cracker.

 

"Looks like you guys may have some trouble responding to fires," Kim said glibly as she ascended the stairs to the break room.  "Your truck looks funny."

 

The next twenty minutes were frenzied as Company #3 scrambled outside, examined the truck, theorized on what possibly could have happened, and called central dispatch to report the vehicle's condition.  The truck was listing badly to one side and was not going anywhere.

 

"Come on," Kim chirped, grabbing the hot firefighter's hand.  "Now that you can't get called away to a fire, I want to show you something."

 

"What's that?" he said, following her into the unoccupied kitchen.

 

"I think I have a boo boo from the fire," she sulked, untying the drawstring on the department-issue sweatpants.  "Let me know what you think."

 

Kim dropped her sweatpants to the floor, revealing her panty-less waist, statuesque legs and dainty feet.  She watched in fascination as his eyes slowly widened.  Her super-sensitive hearing also detected his heart rate quickly increasing.

 

She pointed at a dark spot, about the size of a hand, on her butt.  "What's that grossness on my ass?  Did I get burned?"

 

"No," he said, hands on his knees.  "That's just ash."

 

"So, my ass looks ok?"

 

"Yes, it looks..."  He looked at her nearly spherical butt -- strong and feminine at the same time.  "... it looks perfect."

 

"Can you wipe off the ash?"

 

She felt his hands on her butt.  Brush, brush, brush.  They lingered longer than they needed to.  Shit, Kim thought, can this be any easier?

 

"What about up here?"  Kim hoisted the sweatshirt off in a single motion and let it drop to the floor.  There were splotches of ash on her midriff, her back, her breasts.

 

"Let me get a warm towel," he said, walking over to the sink. 

 

Kim giggled to see a protrusion growing in his crotch.   She realized that she liked him.  Not just "like", as in, "want to fuck."  But "like" as in "a really cool guy."  Cute, gentlemanly, built -- god what she would have given for even a second glance from a guy like this back in her old body!   Kim was beginning to realize that this moment -- the conquest of the hottest guy she could imagine -- was special.

 

He carefully rubbed the spots of ash away from her back and began to move to her front.  "All of this is just ash too," he observed.  "Your skin doesn't seem to have a blemish on it."

 

"So my back is perfect?"

 

"Yes."

 

"And my stomach?"

 

"It's...um... perfect."

 

"And my face and neck?"

 

He stood up and dabbed a few spots of ash off her face.  "Devastating.  I mean, perfect."

 

"You need to do my tits as well.  I have a hard time believing that you overlooked them."

 

"No," he said carefully dabbing there with the towel.  "They're, uh, very hard to overlook."

 

"You mean, 'huge'."

 

"Yes," he admitted, continuing to wipe ash away.

 

"And absurdly firm, huh?"

 

He nodded.

 

"And?"

 

"And," he whispered unsteadily, "absolutely perfect."

 

When the warm, moist towel grazed her nipple, it instantly rose to attention, hardening nearly to the size of a shot glass.  Kim wondered if there was any other woman in the world who had nipples as agonizingly sexy as these.

 

"Sorry," he said, without taking his eye off her nipple.  "I didn't mean too..."

 

"You bastard," Kim purred.  "Once you turn one of those on, there's only one way to fix it."  She slowly guided his head towards her yearning nub. 

 

He eagerly fixed his lips over her nipple.  She was so big, it looked like he was sucking the end of a popsicle.

 

The blast of pleasure hit her like a thunder clap.  It reverberated through the other nipple as well, through her clit, through her brain,  through every pore in her body.  She closed her eyes in ecstasy, but the image of the fireman's uniforms hanging on the wall lingered in her mind's eye.  She realized that she had a fire of her own brewing inside, and she was beginning to realize that it would take all of Engine Company #3 to put it out.

 

---

 

 

"Morning, sleepyhead!"  Tammy was reclining on Folsom's leather couch.  Glass of orange juice in her hand,  she was disinterestedly flipping through a course catalog that she had found on the coffee table.

 

Tammy had decided to take it easy on him for his first night, compelling him to pound her for only four hours straight.  She could have gone on like that indefinitely, she thought as he gingerly made his way down the stairs.  But that would have destroyed him.  Men were weak that way, she figured.  In fact, they were weak in every way.

 

She was wearing a silk robe, the fabric of which was teasing and caressing her skin in delightful ways.  These new bodies were so sensitive, Tammy mused, that just about everything feels wonderful for us.  The robe was technically the property of the his out-of-town wife, but Tammy figured she could be forgiven for borrowing it.  She had already borrowed the woman's husband.

 

As he entered the room, wearing a terry bathrobe himself, Tammy felt a slight shudder of pleasure at knowing he was close again.  Before last night, Tammy had harbored no expectation how  University Presidential cock would feel, but as it turned out, it felt wonderful.  She could picture the blissful expression on his face when he first entered her.  All those people that looked up to him, all those paychecks he controlled, all doctoral initials after his name-- and his cock was straining upward only for her! 

 

"About last night..." his gravelly voice rumbled authoritatively.

 

"Oh, stop it silly," she chirped, gazing up at him quizzically.  Her silk robe was, unfortunately, designed to hang all the way down to the mid-calf, but Tammy had fixed that by propping her feet on the coffee table.  With her legs level, the robe had slid away on either side, and now his eyes could wander as far up as it wanted, nearly to her pussy.  And that was just the way she liked it. 

 

She wondered if he knew that those legs were powerful enough to kick a tank halfway down the block.  Probably not.  She'd have to show him someday.  Maybe on their next date.

 

"Seriously, about last night..." he went on.

 

"Are you about to tell me you didn't enjoy it?"  She prodded.

 

"No," he admitted, his eyes wandering up and down her limbs, "quite the opposite.  It was... fantastic.  But I need you to understand how wrong this was.  I'm a married..."

 

"Wow," Tammy exclaimed, holding up the course catalog.  "I didn't know the school had an archeology department.  Cool!"

 

"Ms. Walters," he said as he lowered himself into the armchair next to the sofa.  "I need you to listen to --"

 

"Jesus, call me Tammy.  You can't give me an amazing fuck for four hours and then call me Ms. such and such."

 

"Tammy, please, it's important that my wife never finds--"

 

"She's not going to find out about it," Tammy groaned.  "Especially if you give me what I want."

 

A grimace crossed the President's face.  He cast a ponderous look at the carpet before returning his gaze to her.  "I was afraid of this.  And what do you want?"

 

"I don't know," she chirped.  "But I'll think of something."

 

"So, if didn't have something specific in mind, if you don't mind my asking, why exactly where you drawn to me?  There are plenty of younger and more available men than the President of the University."

 

"You silly.  I wanted to fuck you BECAUSE you're the President of the University."

 

"Huh."  His grimace turned into a slight smile. 

 

"I like power, silly.  It turns me ON."

 

"Glad I could help," he responded, offering a more relaxed smile.  "So, is this it?  Do I get to see you again?"

 

"Depends," Tammy giggled, "if you give me what I want."

 

"And, again, what do you want?"

 

"I still don't know," she smiled.  "But I'll think of something."

 

Tammy flipped another page in the course catalog and stopped dead in her tracks.  It was only one word that caught her eye, but that one word sent a torrent of emotion through her such as she had never felt before.  The word beckoned to her heart and tantalized her senses with a feeling of untold rewards that lay hidden beneath it.  Just staring at the page sent a tingle of warmth through her, and she could feel the blood rising to her face.

 

Choked up with excitement, Tammy turned the course catalog to President Folsom, her finger pointed at the object of her desire. 

 

The page read, "Geology."

 

"Geology what?" the President asked.

 

"I want to spend the rest of my life in it.  I just realized.  I don't know why, so don't ask.  I can't imagine spending a minute doing anything else."

 

"But would that mean several years of additional coursework for you.  Didn't you say you were two weeks away from a Master's thesis defense in Political Science?"

 

"So, that was before," she retorted.

 

"Before what?"

 

"Before right now.  You're so cute when you're confused," she beamed, running her fingers through her splendid golden hair.  "I don't need politics any more.  I need rocks and minerals.  It's my true calling -- something that's coming from deep down inside."

 

---

 

 

President Folsom regarded her critically as she took her feet off the coffee table and sat up straight.  Or at least, he tried to regard her critically.  It was hard.  Her disheveled hair, the color on her cheeks -- it made her even more attractive than yesterday, if that was possible.

 

"OK," he asked, "so you want to apply for a geology undergrad program here?"

 

"No silly," she stepped over to his armchair and started to climb into his lap.  "I'm not smart enough to apply for the program.  They'd never admit me."  The sunlight caught the perfection of her thighs through the thinness of the silk robe.

 

"And that's where I come in?  Instead of applying for program on your merits, you just expect me pull strings?"

 

She bit her lower lip and nodded, settling her weight into his lap.

 

"I'll....  I'll at least need you to fill out some forms."  He could feel the delicious warmth of her pussy emanating through their robes.

 

"Have someone in your office do it."

 

"You don't take "no" for an answer, do you?"  He asked, gazing up at her angelic face.

 

She shook her head, running a lazy finger through his hair.  The bright morning sunshine had caught her blond hair and transformed it into a spectacle of radiant gold.  Her mammoth tits stood out proudly.  They seemed to be straining to separate the panels of the robe.  Even her exposed neck and collar bones were sexy--  the taut sinews of muscle only hinting at the athleticism that lay beneath. Even after wearing him out last night, she was as fresh and new as the day itself. He was straining to keep his composure.

 

"Do you have the money for however many extra years of coursework you'll need?" 

 

"No, I don't," Tammy moaned with a breathy, sumptuous sigh.  "But you do."  Her sky blue eyes began to bear into him, with a slight smile on her face.  It was devastating.

 

"I can't exactly give you a full ride."

 

"Is that what they call it, when you pay all the money and I get to do something for free?" 

 

The President watched in rapt fascination as her hand wandered down to the space between her legs.  When it emerged, it was thoroughly wet.  She slowly ran her dripping fingers under his nose, over his lips.  The odor was sweet-- and delirious.  The President found himself opening his mouth in supplication as she lazily spread her juices over his lips and tongue.  More, he thought.  I need more of that.  Now, and whatever it takes, he thought.  He soon found himself anxiously lapping her sweet musk off her fingers, making sure not a drop was wasted.

 

"I asked you a question buster," she purred.

 

"The money," he struggled to respond.  "It's very... hard... to come up with scholarship money."  His mind couldn't function.  He wanted her -- wanted her with a desire than burned even hotter than when they first tumbled into bed last night, brighter than the morning sun which had so warmly embraced her and turned her into a shimmering spectacle of gold.  He hung onto the side of the armchair as if he was on a roller coaster.

 

"Oh, that's too bad, about the money," she said with disappointment as she opened her robe.  She wasn't wearing a scrap of underwear, her magnificent breasts and perfect athletic physique full display.  Damn her.

 

"Very bad," she continued.  She slowly centered her pussy lips over his cock, teasing him with her warm wetness.  Folsom was paralyzed with desire.  She directed her azure gaze straight into him and continued, with slight disappointment.  "Well, then maybe we don't get to make love again," she said, her labia tracing light circles over the tip of his cock.  "After all, I can have any man I want.  I can walk into any party tonight and come away with a waiting list.  Maybe I'm wasting my time with you."

 

"No!" Folsom exclaimed, before checking himself.  He was struggling to control his emotions at all.  "I'll figure it out.  Please.  Somehow, I'll do something."

 

"Like pay for my education?"

 

"Sure.  Free ride, whatever it takes.  Please, I want you!"

 

"Attaboy," she purred.  "I love how you call it a free ride.  There's nothing I love better before breakfast."

 

He gasped as he felt her warm, tight, sopping pussy slide breathlessly down his shaft.