THE USUAL WARNINGS:  

This is a work of fiction by a twisted mind.  If you are offended by 
graphic sexual descriptions of natural and/or unnatural acts, or if you 
are underage, don't read any further.  Also kids, don't try this at 
home without adult supervision.

This story is a fantasy.  You have to loosen your clench on reality a 
little when you read it.  As is the case with most stories in this 
newsgroup, in this story all the women are beautiful; gravity has never 
touched their breasts nor wrinkles their unblemished faces; the men 
(the hero in this story, at least) are hung like bulls and can get it 
up and keep it up at will; there are no STDs, morals, or unwanted 
pregnancies; and guilt is a four letter word.  Most of all, strength of 
character doesn't stand a chance against any erotic stimulus, which can 
be as benign as a glance.  That being said, stick your tongue firmly in 
your cheek and enjoy.



















The Camp Nurse

Chapter 1.  The First Day

by NightShade

first posted 1/97, revised 12/98

Author's Note:  I hope you enjoy this story line.  This first chapter 
takes a while to get going, but it does, eventually.  It's called plot 
development and generally makes a story more interesting.  The 
subsequent chapters should contain more SEX (which is what we're all 
here for, right?), but if you don't read this first chapter, you'll 
miss the plot.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

BLAM!

I heard the blast of the shotgun and my military training took over.  I 
dropped my bags and hit the dirt and rolled to my right, away from the 
sound.  I took inventory of my body, checking for wounds as I scurried 
for cover behind a slight rise in the terrain as it sloped up from the 
lake.  As I rolled, my sub-conscience had registered the distinctive 
'click-click' of another round being chambered.  I began to sweat.  
Even worse, I could hear the whop-whop-whop of the helicopter that 
brought me up here receding in the clear thin air.  It was the only way 
out of here.  I was going to die up here and didn't have a clue why.

I instinctively tried to locate the threat because whoever was shooting 
at me was really stupid.  That fucker had fired a warning shot.  My 
drill instructors always told me that you don’t attack a shotgun, you 
run out of range or get behind something.  Then nail the bastard.  
Anyone who had a clear shot with at shotgun and missed, well, they were 
just plain stupid or blind.  

I figured they were somewhere off to my left.  I couldn't see anyone or 
anything from where I was so I tried to crab over a ways to get a 
better angle.

BLAM!  click-click     BLAM!  click-click 

This time several good-sized branches fell on my back and I heard the 
bark of the trees right behind me being ripped away.  SHIT!  I was dead 
meat.  The fucker wanted me alive, and that scared me more than dying 
for some reason.  This was supposed to have been a easy gig, but it 
could have been a setup.  I didn't know any of the major players, and 
no one knew where I was.  On purpose.

I started to get up very slowly, keeping my hands in clear view over my 
head.  Might as well go out like a man standing up, than die face down 
in the pine needles.  Besides, if I didn't get up soon, I'd pee in my 
pants.  Not from fear.  It had been a two-hour flight out of Ontario 
Airport and there isn't a John on a helicopter.  

"Hold it right there, you mother-fuckin' bastard!  Where the hell do 
you think you're goin'?"

It was a voice from your worst nightmare.  Shrill and angry.  PMS on 
steroids.  Pitched at just that one certain tone that made your bowels 
turn to water, kind of like fingernails on a blackboard, only worse, 
much worse.  She was an ugly mother for sure, and I was face down.  
Worse, she had a shotgun.

"Mernnfroong gdnr nddnf."  It's difficult to talk clearly when your 
mouth is full of pine needles and moss.

"What did you say, you fuckin bastard?  Speak up before I blow your 
head the hell off!"

"I'm looking for the camp administrator, Janet Crandell," I said after 
turning my head and spitting out the debris.

"What for?"

I don't know why, given my rather precarious situation at the time, but 
that question got my dander up.  (For those of you who don't know what 
'dander' is, it's a lot more comfortable when it gets up than something 
else that gets 'up' tents your shorts and leaves a wet spot on your 
pants.  In certain circumstances, however, like the one I was currently 
in, dander, when it's up, can be life threatening.  Clear?)  I resented 
her question.

"Are you Ms. Crandell?" I asked her back, none too politely.

"Nope."

"Then it's really none of your GOD-DAMNED FUCKING business, is it?"  I 
yelled.  I started to get up.

BLAM!  click-click

She apparently didn't like my attitude.

"Stay down, you no-good, mother-fuckin' bastard."

I stayed down.  As I lay there, I realized that I had heard several odd 
high-pitched sounds after that last shot.  At first, I had dismissed 
them as birds, but they kept coming.  I couldn't locate where the sound 
was coming from, but it seemed to come from all around.  Slowly turning 
my head to both sides, I spied several pairs of Nikes, Reeboks and 
Adidas in various pastel colors sprouting some of the finest pairs of 
young tanned healthy legs I had ever seen in my 23 years.

Then came 'The Voice' again:  "Stay back, girls.  It's a MAN!"  She 
said that last work like it would leave a dirty taste in her mouth.  I 
really think she meant it as a derogatory description of me, too.

One of the pairs of legs sassed back to her, "We KNO-O-O-W" in typical 
teenage sarcasm.  I decided I liked that kid, whoever she was.  Several 
of the spectators giggled, and one or two laughed outright.

The sound of running feet preceded the arrival of the authorities.  
Help, I hoped, had arrived.

"Gertie, what's all the shooting about.  I hope you didn't hurt anyone.  
I warned you about bringing that, that, that THING up here."

"I got one, Miss Crandell!" Gertie shouted excitedly, like I was rare 
specimen that she could make extinct and do the world a favor, like 
small pox.  "I finally got one of those slimy no-good PRE-vert bastards 
trying to sneak into the camp!  I knew the little shits would show up 
sooner or later."

"Where, Gertie?  Where is he?"

"Over there, suckin dirt."

I didn't see any of this, as I was still face down in the moss, taking 
no chances.

I heard or sensed someone come over to where I was lying.

"My name is Janet Crandell.  I am the administrator of this camp.  Who 
are you and what do you want?"  

The questions were put forward in a very business-like manner, but in a 
voice that would have melted the heart and resolve of the toughest CEO.  
I also noticed she did not ask me to get up.

"My name is Chris Mattson.  I was hired to be your camp nurse."  I 
reached - very slowly - into my shirt pocket and handed her my 
contract.

There was dead silence for several minutes.

"May I get up, now?"  I asked this after what seemed to me was enough 
time for her to have re-written the entire contract, much less read it.

Not receiving an answer, I slowly raised my head up, just so I could 
look forward.  And looked directly at a set of very shapely ankles.  I 
had never thought of ankles as all that sexy, but now.  Wow!  If the 
rest of her looked that good, this must be heaven.  

I took not hearing a gun shot as a good sign, and I continued to lift 
my head up.  Smooth tight skin, toned calves, one knee bent slightly, 
the other locked.  Not a mark, not a mole blemished the evenly tanned 
legs.  Her thighs seemed to go on forever and all I could think of was 
how they might feel locked around my waist.  I could almost feel the 
firm leg muscles straining in ecstasy.

I shook my head to clear it of those erotic images.  There was still a 
loaded weapon in the hands of the enemy.  This was no time to loose 
focus.  I pulled my hands under my chest and levered my upper body up.  
My movements were slow and easy.  

My eyes passed over a slight swell of feminine hips fronting for a 
high-set, firm, tight ass inadequately covered by a pair of those 
clinging nylon running shorts.  There wasn't even a hint of a bulge 
over her pussy.  Her crotch was as flat as that of a world-class 
athlete.  I didn't see any panty lines, and the shorts were tight 
enough that if they had been there, I would have.  I paused to pay 
homage to perfection.  It isn't everyday I get to see a living 
epiphany.   

A few inches higher was a trim bare waist highlighted by one of the 
most perfect navels God ever created.  I paused again.  My breathing 
was becoming labored.  Must have been the altitude, right?   Then came 
the highlight, the absolute showstoppers: a set of perfectly sized, 
high riding tits tightly encased in one of those sports-bra things.  It 
looked like the sports bra was gradually loosing the fight to contain 
them, but it was a glorious battle to watch.

"This is too fucking good to be true!" I thought, as I was finally 
standing erect.  In more than one sense.  "If she's blonde, blue-eyed 
and gorgeous, I'll know this is a wet-dream."  I was still staring at 
her chest, although I towered above her 5'3" frame.  I was torn.  Why 
spoil a good wet dream with a shit-ugly face?  But it was becoming 
obvious, even to me, where I was looking.

I raised my eyes and looked at her face.  She was the woman of my 
dreams.  I had never visualized any one woman when I fantasized, but 
Ms. Crandell was all of them rolled into one tight package.  I pinched 
myself to see if this was a dream.   It wasn't.  This was better than a 
wet dream.  It was real!

Administrator Crandell stood all of 5'3'' - at most - and, with her 
clear face and youthful figure, didn't look old enough to be the 
administrator.  I idly wondered if she ever wore her blonde hair in 
curly pig-tails.  It would be just like an erotic Brady Bunch.

"Hi.  Uh, Boss?  I hope."  I stuck out my hand.

"Oh, yes.  Hello.  Uh, I'm sorry about the rude welcome, but there 
seems to have been some sort of terrible mistake.  This is an exclusive 
all-girls camp.  ALL girls."  She left my hand waving in the breeze so 
I took it back.  Not a good sign.

"And?  What's the problem?"

"Uh, well, uh, let's go up to my office and discuss this, OK?"  She 
waved her hands to indicate the throng of young girls who had 
surrounded us during this little talk.

When I said "OK," there was a corporate groan so full of hormones, I 
thought I felt a pimple growing.

We started up the path towards the large building she had indicated.  
We had to go right past a solid Teutonic mass of flesh holding a 12-
gauge pump action shotgun.  It had to be Gertie.  It didn't take a 
genius to figure that out.  As I walked by her, I purposely stayed in a 
meek posture with my head bowed until I was next to her.  Hey, it works 
with gorillas, and that's the immediate image I had when I first saw 
Gertie.  

There was palpable hate in her glare.  She felt safe and invincible 
holding the shotgun.  Stupid.  She let me get too close to her.  As I 
passed in front of her, I pretended to stumble.  It took her by 
surprise when I spun from below, reached out and grabbed the gun from 
her fat, oversized hands.  Shocked at loosing her precious weapon, she 
just stood there, her mouth hanging open.  I did a swift leg sweep to 
knock her legs out from under her.  She fell hard, knocking the wind 
out of her.  I swear to God, the earth shook when she landed.

I stood over her, staring down at her.  I resisted the training I had 
had to finish her.  My fist unclenched and the muscles trained to kill 
protested as I just looked at her.  I expected to see fear in her eyes, 
but Gertie surprised me.  All I saw was hate.  Loathing.  Disgust.  You 
get the picture.  I was 'MAN', ergo, I was "EVIL."  I shouldn't have 
hesitated.  The bitch had shot at me.  Self-defense, right?

As we stared at each other, I slowly pumped the shotgun and ejected the 
shells onto her body.  There were five shells in the gun and one in the 
chamber.  Shit, she must have reloaded the damn thing while Ms. 
Crandell was talking to me.  I broke down the gun, and with a final 
glare at her, stuck it under my arm continued up the path.

As I neared the office, I spied my bags neatly stacked at the dock, 
ready for an exit.  Even the two I had been carrying when the shooting 
started.  Not a good sign, again.

However, several minutes later, after a seriously heated discussion 
about sexual discrimination, lawsuits for breach of contract, etc., 
Janet Crandell gracefully conceded defeat.  Temporarily.  For the 
remaining part of this session only.  She needed a nurse to meet the 
insurance requirements; I was a bonified registered nurse; I had a 
signed and notarized contract.  Therefore, I was the new nurse at Camp 
Rah-Rah-Rah.

I wouldn't have been such a hard ass about it, but I really needed this 
job.  For several reasons, not all of them honorable.  To make a long 
story short, I had enlisted in the Navy because I wanted to be a Navy 
SEAL.  A real one, not the kind in the movies that even Demi Moore 
could qualify for.  It was what I had wanted to be all my adolescent 
life.  Once in the Navy, I worked so fucking hard I actually was 
selected for the SEAL training program.  It was the happiest day of my 
life and began the best part of my life, ever.  

The training was all I had dreamed of.  It was harder than anything you 
can imagine.  The DIs ran us until we couldn't stand up and then made 
us crawl back.  The next day we did it again, twice.  In between, we 
had classes.  Hand-to-hand, weapons, explosives, close-in killing, 
tactics, team-work.  I loved it.  Every fucking minute.  No matter what 
it was, what they did, I thrived on it.  It was what I was meant to be.  

Several of the guys I thought were tougher than I was dropped out due 
to injuries and dequals.  I was sorry to see them go.  I thought this 
was the greatest thing ever, and now they would miss out.  But disaster 
has a way of ruining a perfectly good career choice.  I had almost 
finished with my SEAL training when I ran into what in to that great 
unique military institution, the SNAFU.  You know, Situation Normal, 
All Fucked Up.  

A Pentagon computer somehow decided that I would make a good medic for 
the squad and that I should be trained not just as medic, but as a 
fucking registered nurse.  I was appalled, horrified.  Not at the idea 
of the schoolwork.  But that my squad I had trained with would be 
reformed without me and sent on active duty while I spent four years in 
nursing school.  I wanted to fucking kill and blow things up –on 
orders, of course! – not carry a first aid kit.  

I appealed all the way up the line.  Nothing could change the decision.  
My commander appealed all the way up.  Senators and Representatives 
appealed all the way up.  Nothing.  The fuckers in the Pentagon got 
pissed at all the commotion – and that they had made an obvious mistake 
- and almost wouldn't let me graduate from the SEAL program.  I 
couldn't have taken that blow, so I quit appealing, finished my SEAL 
training, went to the Naval Hospital.  Four years later I became Lt. 
Chris Mattson, RN, USN (SEAL).

I wasn't assigned to a SEAL squad.  There weren't any openings for a 
RN.  Figures.  I started my first tour of duty at a land-based 
hospital.  I didn't last long.  I guess you could say it had something 
to do with my looks.  The doctors didn't like the way I looked, but all 
the nurses did.  Well, two of the doctors liked me, but they both had 
tits.  The nurses' commander, my boss, was the only person who saw me 
as just me.  The other nurses all said she was just too old to care.  I 
didn't think so.  She was a good person, rare in my book, and that made 
her special.

I suppose I should describe myself.  I'm just over six feet tall, 180 
lbs.  I've been told that if I grew a mustache, I would look like Tom 
Selleck, only better.  I never considered myself all that handsome, but 
I never had trouble getting dates, either.  No tattoos, no scars.  Just 
your average guy.

Anyway, why I needed this job....  It seems that my presence at the 
base hospital was causing quite a problem.  There were numerous 
complaints from the politically powerful doctors, and from several 
outside civilians.  On the one hand, the doctors weren't getting 
anymore of the nurse-nookie they had been accustomed to getting.  
Neither was I, but that fact didn't seem to be relevant to the horny 
bastards.  They had all heard of my training, and were too chicken to 
attack me personally.  So they filed complaints about me.

On the other hand, there were four or five catfights in the nurse's 
locker room, the last one requiring major reconstruction surgery.  For 
some reason, the nurses were apparently fighting over me.  God knows, I 
did nothing to encourage them.  Well, OK, almost nothing.  But it 
wasn't my fault.

When the first female doctors had been assigned to the hospital, the 
male doctors had insisted that, on the basis of maintaining discipline, 
all the doctors, regardless of gender, had to use the Doctor's Lounge.  
So when I showed up, the nurses, more for spite than anything else, 
insisted that I use their locker room to change.  So some of them might 
have seen me naked and erect in the shower.  Hey, what's a guy to do?  
They were naked, too.  So I got excited and got a hard on.  You'd have 
thought they had never seen a 10" prick before.  I mean, don't all guys 
have one?

Anyway, after the last fight, the commander called me into her office.  
We had a long heart-to-heart about my future in the Navy, how she 
understood how frustrated I was.  She knew that I didn't want to treat 
people in the hospital, I wanted to put people in the hospital.  She 
then advised me that both of the nurses involved in the most recent 
fight were married to guys that were very hotheaded, jealous, and were 
'connected.'  While she was sure I could probably take care of myself, 
she suggested it might be safer for all involved it I was to make 
myself scarce for a long - she emphasized that word 'long' - time.  It 
seems that none of the nurse's husbands had been getting any nurse 
nookie either, and were really pissed at me.  One of the nurses had 
already reported that about 20 of the husbands had met.  The hospital 
commander, one of the husbands at the meeting, had quietly told her to 
'fix' the problem before anyone else got hurt.

She put me on an indefinite leave of absence.  The commander quietly 
suggested I contact a placement agency she knew of that handled RNs.  I 
did.  The agency said they had an immediate opening at an isolated kids 
summer camp with no access, only helicopter, and I was perfect, just 
what they were looking for.  Within the hour, I was airborne and, here 
I was.  The staff at the agency either didn't know or didn't care that 
Camp Rah-Rah-Rah was an all girls cheerleading camp.  Or perhaps they 
just assumed that a nurse would be female.  Or perhaps because my name 
is Chris and not Christopher.  Who knows?  Who cares?  I was here.

Camp Rah-Rah-Rah was built in an abandoned government facility in a 
hidden valley about 5000' up in one of the endless mountain ranges of 
the West.  It sat on a glacier-fed lake and was protected from the 
weather by high peaks on all sides.  The outlet stream from the lake 
plunged over a 300' waterfall about a mile down stream, effectively 
sealing off the valley.  It was beautiful.

The camp was originally intended to be a training facility of some 
kind.  Maybe the Forest Service wanted to train the rangers how to fly 
fish or something.  But that's beside the point.  There were several 
million tax dollars at work here, all of which the beautiful Janet 
Crandell had acquired for a mere pittance at auction.  The camp was 
entirely self-contained with running water, huge underground warehouses 
that she had turned into a year-round training area, luxury 
hotel/dormitory accommodations for up to 200 people, kitchens, 
satellite communications, even a self-contained unit generating 
electricity from the water fall.  It was typical government overkill.

Janet explained all this to me as she took me over to the medical 
building.  It was a good-sized out-building, attached to the main 
housing area by a long corridor.  I felt like a giant walking next to 
her diminutive form, but she never seemed to notice.  I lugged my bags, 
the sum total of my earthly belongings, and fell in love with her voice 
as she gave me the nickel tour.

The dispensary I was in charge of was typical of the lavish style of 
the rest of the compound.  There was actually a small OR with an 
emergency generator.  The clinic had not been used for quite a while, 
so I spent the rest of that first day getting it into shape.  Mostly 
dusting and organizing, familiarizing myself with the medical stocks.  
I had intended to make a list of things to order, but after two hours I 
hadn't been able to find anything to write down.  As I was beginning to 
notice about all the things Ms. Janet Crandell did, this place was very 
well equipped.

About 3:00 I heard the helicopter coming back up the valley.  Thinking 
perhaps that she had changed her mind, I went to the window to see what 
was going on.  I could see the landing pad from the dispensary window, 
I watched in wry amusement as Janet Crandell and Gertie pantomimed out 
a dramatic scene worthy of the best silent pictures.  Janet would point 
at the chopper and Gertie would shake her head 'No'.  Another firm 
gesture towards the chopper by Janet, and Gertie would hang her head 
and shuffle a couple of steps towards the machine.  She would then turn 
and say something, holding up her clasped hands in supplication, 
begging, only to collapse against Janet's resolve.  Then the whole 
process would begin again.  Janet would point, Gertie would plead.  
Point, shuffle, beg, point, plead.  Gertie obviously did not want to 
leave. 

But she did and the chopper faded away for the second time that day.  I 
felt better about this one leaving.

The phone rang - did I mention they had their own phone system? - and 
Janet's assistant informed me that a Staff meeting was to be held at 
4:00 before dinner.

I showered, shaved and dressed in my best nurse whites to meet the 
staff.  I followed her directions to the boardroom.  I was early and 
was able to greet each arriving staff member.  Being a gentleman, I 
stood up as each one came in the door.  All of them had heard the news 
by now, if not all the shooting.  They were all looking forward to 
meeting me.  Apparently, all of them had also showered and shaved (I 
guess) and were wearing the most attractive or flattering clothing they 
had with them.  And no wedding rings in the bunch.

I would describe each of them individually, but this is a short story.  
Suffice it to say that each one of them was either a current or an ex-
Cheerleader at a major University or pro sports team, and that there 
wasn't a ounce of excess weight on any of them.  And with what they 
were - or weren't - wearing, I could tell.  You get the picture.  They 
were all outgoing, smart, friendly, confident of their womanhood, and 
exceptionally beautiful.  Excellent role models for the young girls at 
the camp.

The buzz in the room quieted down when Janet walked in.  Or should I 
say floated in.  I never noticed her move, but she was suddenly at the 
head of the table, calling the meeting to order.  Before she spoke, she 
surveyed the female staff, and grinned a wry smile.

"All right, people, a few things on the agenda.  One, you have probably 
heard the news, but I would like to formally present our camp nurse, 
Mr. Chris Mattson.  Please introduce yourselves and make him feel 
welcome."

A titter of giggles swept the room.  I blushed.  So did Janet.

"Not THAT welcome, ladies!"

That broke up the room, and the ice.  The sexual tension that had been 
building around us disappeared. When the laughter died down, she 
continued.

"Second, you are probably also aware that Gertie is no longer with us."  
There were a few repressed cheers, which Janet glared at with honest 
disapproval  "I'm sure we will all miss her, but it does leave a couple 
of holes in the class roster.  We will need to spread out her 
responsibilities.  First, I need a volunteer to take over her campers."

A tall red-head raised her hand.  "I could take some of them.  They're 
all the same age as my girls, so it should fit OK."  She flashed me a 
shy smile as she finished speaking.

A tawny, gorgeous black woman quickly spoke up, "Me, too.  I'll take 
the other half."  Another shy smile in my direction.

"Thank you, ladies.  Work it out between you."  She looked down at the 
teaching schedule.  "OK.  Next, is there anyone who quilts?"

There was a long silence.  

"Anyone?  Please?"

Finally, a quiet voice spoke up behind Janet.

"None of the campers had signed up for that particular class, Miss 
Crandell."

Several of the staff tried to cover up their smiles.  It wasn't nice, 
but it was funny.

Janet shot her assistant a pained smile.

"OK, well, that takes care of that.  Now, how about the self-defense 
training?  I know that all the girls have to take that course."

Another long silence.

Finally I spoke up.  "What type of training are you looking for?  Hand-
to-hand or shotguns?"

The room broke up.  I probably shouldn't have said anything, but the 
bitch had shot at me.  The look on Janet's face wasn't pretty, but I 
had another card up my sleeve.

"Mr. Mattson, this is a serious meeting.  Please keep your comments 
appropriate."

All right, I deserved that.

"I apologize, Ma'am.  But I do have extensive training in hand to hand 
fighting and weapons.  Navy SEAL training, to be exact.  I could put 
together a training program for you.  From the response of your staff 
for a request for volunteers, I could include training for them as 
well, if you want."

Janet's face went from suspicious to surprised to relieved.  When I 
made the offer to train the staff as well, you would have thought the 
home team had just scored the winning touchdown.  The cheers, whistles, 
and applauding went on for several minutes.

When it finally quieted down, Janet said, "Well, it seems as if we have 
a new self-defense instructor.  And a new staff course, as well."  She 
looked around at all the female staff.  "All staff personnel will 
participate in that course," she continued.

An emphatic, over-loud whispered "YESSSssss!!!" from her mousey 
assistant broke up the room again and the meeting as well.  Janet 
resignedly waved them away out of the room and sat at the head of the 
table shaking her head.  She was smiling, however.  She motioned for me 
to stay as the room cleared.

"You seem to have caused quite a stir, Mr. Mattson.  I haven't seen 
that much makeup on my staff in the four weeks we've been here."

"Please, call me Chris, Miss Crandell..."

"Janet."

"OK, Janet.  Look, I apologize for the remark about Gertie, but she did 
kind of start things."

"Don't think anything of it.  She was really out of place here, but I 
couldn't get rid of her without a reason.  You provided that reason, so 
in a way, I should be grateful to you.  However, I won't have you 
making negative comments about anyone, and I mean anyone, in a staff 
meeting, or anywhere else for that matter.  Do you understand, mister?  
I don't work that way."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"That sounded like there should be a salute with that," she chuckled.

"Sorry.  Just habit, I guess."

"Well.  Let's go to dinner.  I'll show you to your table."

"'My' table?"

"Yes.  All the staff spread out around the room and sit in different 
areas.  I feel this encourages informal interaction between the staff 
and campers.  You have an assigned table.  The campers do not.  They 
may sit where they like."

By that time we were at the door to the dining area.  The hubbub of 
noise from room came through the double swinging doors and filled the 
hall where we were standing.

Janet looked at me with a raised eyebrow and a crooked smile.  "Ready 
to face the enemy, sailor?"

"Aye-Aye, Skipper," I grinned back at her as I held the door open for 
her.  Apparently she wasn't expecting that because she gave me a very 
pleasant and appreciative smile as she ducked under my arm and into the 
room.

It was like a switch had been switched off.  There was dead silence in 
the room.  Even the kitchen staff stopped banging the pots and pans.  
All eyes were on Janet and me as we made our way over to what was to 
become 'my' table.  The silent eyes follow us every step of the way 
around the large room to the far back corner, as yet unpopulated by 
diners.

"This was Gertie's area.  She never seemed to attract that many diners.  
You just inherited it.  Looks like tonight you'll get to eat in peace.  
Or you can join me if you like."

"No thanks, Janet, I'd better not.  I wouldn't want them to think I 
couldn't handle dinner on my own."

"Suit yourself, sailor," she flipped over her shoulder as she walked 
away.  With that wiggle in her hips, I could have almost sworn she was 
flirting with me.  Regardless, I was getting stiff just watching her 
walk away towards the food line.  Or maybe it was being in the middle 
of all that young hot stuff.  You see, there was a reason I had never 
taken advantage of any of the freely available nurse nookie at the base 
hospital.  It was all too old for my taste.  I liked mine young.  18 at 
the oldest.  There was something about a girl turning into a mature 
woman that turned me off.  I don't know.  I always associated mature 
with my Mom.  And fat.  Not obese, just rounded, padded figures.  I 
liked mine lean and mean.

Which was why Janet interested me.  She looked young.  And she would 
continue to look young for a long, long time.  She looked more fuckable 
the longer I looked at her.

I broke my stare when I felt a tugging on my pants leg.

"Hey, Mister.  Can I sit with you?"

I looked down to see an absolutely doll faced innocent young girl 
standing next to me.  Her big brown eyes looked up at mine and she 
batted her eyelids in a most seductive manner.  I just about came then 
and there.  This was going to be harder –literally - than I thought.

"Sure.  Just let me go get my tray."

"OK.  I'll wait here."

I went off in the direction Janet had gone to get her dinner.  There 
was nothing special about the menu, mostly healthy food, as would be 
expected.  I piled up my tray with what was apparently a surprising 
amount of food from the looks of the food servers.  I grinned at each 
one as I went by, and they just blushed and piled on more food.  Way to 
a man's heart and all that…

By the time I returned from the food line and got back to by table, my 
section was full.  The only empty chair was mine.  I looked around and 
caught one of the other staffer's eye.  I motioned to her now nearly 
empty section and I made a questioning gesture of 'what's going on?'  
She just laughed.  

I sat down to 11 pairs of eyes.  But I couldn't tell you what color 
they were right then because all I noticed, on the QT, of course, was 
11 pairs of fresh young tits.  Firm, gorgeous, unfettered youthful tit-
flesh.  A veritable feast of flesh.  In all my favorite sizes from 
grapes to walnuts to oranges.  The eyes around the table finally caught 
my attention and I smiled.  I swear one of them swooned - or at least 
sighed heavily.

I began small talk around the whole table, getting even the shyest ones 
to speak up.  I let them fill me in on the rules, the schedules, what 
they liked, etc.  Stuff they knew about, non-threatening.  They didn't 
have nametags, but I remembered most of their names by the end of 
dinner.  The conversation lagged a couple of times but with a well 
placed question, it picked up again.  Once it was stopped abruptly by a 
water glass being spilled.  The girl who spilled it had been rather 
quiet throughout the dinner, and now sat there jerking and shaking in 
her chair.  A flush rose up her neck and spread over her cheeks.  She 
gasped audibly in an OH-OH-OH manner, and then slumped down in her 
chair with a queer smile on her face.

Being the nurse, I immediately jumped up and rushed to her side.  I 
picked her up in my arms and ran to the dispensary with her.  
Surprisingly, only Janet followed.  Sarah, the girl, closed her eyes, 
rested her head on my chest, wrapped her arms around my neck and held 
on tightly.  

At first I thought she was just scared and tried to comfort her and 
held her close.  I didn't know what to think might be wrong with her, 
but I noticed that my shirtsleeve was moist where it went under her 
legs.  She still shuddered every once in a while and clung tightly to 
me.

I got to the dispensary and laid her gently on one of the examining 
tables.  She didn't want to let go of my neck.  Gently prying her hands 
apart, I began my examination.  I called up her records on the computer 
to check for epilepsy.  Nothing.  I check for allergies.  Nothing.  I 
checked for anything.  Nothing.  I began to get nervous.  It didn't 
help that I was being watched.

Janet had entered the room while I checked the computer.  She had this 
kind of amused look on her face as she watched me work.  And work, and 
work some more, without a result.  I began to get panicked.  My first 
case, and I was a flop!  I checked reflexes, muscle tone, everything.  
I could find nothing, but a state of extreme relaxation and wet spot 
between her legs that I blamed on the spilled water.

The panic must have been apparent because Janet called me over to her.

"Are you going to carry every girl down here after she orgasms?" she 
whispered.

"WHAT?"  I looked at her with disbelief.  She pointed to the wet spot 
on my shirtsleeve.

"Smell it."

The tangy aroma was unmistakable.  

"You didn't see her?"

I shook my head.  I had honestly not been aware that she had been 
stroking herself under the table.

"God, the whole room knew what was going on.  These girls have been up 
here two weeks without their boyfriends.  Some – most of them are 
pretty sexually active.  They get kind of horny from about this point 
on.  For the next two weeks of their time here it will only get worse.  
I kind of expected something like this to happen, just not this soon."

"Gee, thanks for warning me!"

Janet grinned up at me.  "Hey, it's been 4 weeks for me and the staff!  
Why should I give you a break?"

I almost grabbed her then and there and tossed her on the bed.  
Unfortunately, the bed still had Sarah on it and she was watching us 
intently.  I went over to her.

"Feeling better?"  I asked her quietly

She nodded her head 'Yes.'

"Do you need to get some rest or will it be OK to release you?"

"Can't I stay here tonight?"  I slept in the next room and I think she 
knew it.

"No, I really don't think that will be necessary."

"But what if it happens again?"

"Do you think it might?"

Again she nodded, shyly this time, like a scared little girl.

I leaned over and whispered in her ear so Janet couldn't hear. "Then 
grab your pillow and hug it tight to you.  You can think of me if you 
want, or your boyfriend.  OK?"

I grabbed one of her hands in one of mine, knelt on one knee, brought 
her hand up to my lips and kissed her on the palm of her hand.  

Sarah flushed, squealed, grinned and jumped up, all at the same time.  
She winked at Miss Crandell and ran back to the dining hall.  She came 
back to the door and yelled, "Thank you, Mr. Mattson" to me, then left 
again.

"WHAT did you tell her?"

"That is a trade secret!  You'll just have to do the same thing she did 
if you want to find out, won't you?"  With that, she blushed deep red, 
turned and walked back towards the dining room.  About half way down 
the hall, she turned back.

"By the way, that was a good job in there.  You did everything right.  
If it had been serious, you would have found it.  Glad to have you 
aboard."

With that she went back and finished her dinner.

I smiled to myself as I watched her walk away.  There was a bit more 
wiggle in her walk this time, I noticed.  I wonder if she had noticed 
my erection.  It would have taken a blind woman not to.

The rest of dinner passed with no further orgasms or fainting spells.  
The girls in the rest of the hall had filed out long ago, but my area 
was still all there.  Janet finally came over to rescue me, claiming a 
'meeting' I had to get to.  The girls actually groaned, and I realized 
then how erotic that sounded.  It was so close to the moan that escapes 
those parted lips when you're teasing a fresh one into her first fuck.  
You get them to the edge, then pull back.  Do it again, and again and 
again.  When they're delirious, they are yours for the picking.  Cherry 
picking.

So it was with more than a little difficulty that I stood up.  My prick 
was stiff and cramped in my shorts.  I have always had to keep it aimed 
down, just in case something like this happened, because if it was 
pointed up, it would pop up out over my belt.  That had happened to me 
one time in Jr. High School, but I learned quick.  

So my meat was sticking down my pant leg and was kind of swollen.  I 
guess I underestimated the length a little because there were several 
gasps when I stood.  Until I adjusted my pants leg, my Ol' John Henry 
was a good two inches out in the open.  I kept going as if nothing was 
the matter, but even Janet's eyes were wider than normal.

"Shall we go, Miss Crandell?"  I asked, holding out my arm to her.

"Y-Yes, Mr. Mattson.  Yes."  She was still shaken by what she had 
glimpsed, or thought she had, or was it that she hoped she had.  Her 
grip on my arm was possessively tight.

I dropped her off at her office and thanked her for rescuing me.  I 
almost got her in a clinch right then, but her assistant happened by, 
so I said good night to them both.

The remainder of the evening I spent unpacking my kit and finishing 
straightening up in the clinic.  I listened to the bells as they rang, 
remembering the schedule the girls at dinner had told me.  

9:00  In Rooms.  

9:30  In Beds  

10:00  Lights Out.  

Like clockwork I could see the lights across the way blink out.  They 
were all out on this side of the dormitory within a minute of each 
other.  I wondered absently if the little minxes were that obedient at 
home.  My light soon followed and I crawled into bed for what I hoped 
would be a long peaceful sleep.

I couldn't have been more misguided.  Within 30 minutes I heard the 
door to my room quietly push open.  I pretended to be asleep, which 
wasn't hard, given how tired I was.  For a while I couldn't hear 
anything at all, and I was just beginning to think it was my 
imagination when a tiny hand was laid gently across my lips.

"SSSShhhhhh.  Don't say a word," came an unfamiliar whisper.  A second 
small hand soon grasped my now throbbing cock and began to rub it up 
and down.

"OOOOhhhhhhh, Daddy, that feels good.  Let me kiss it for you."

That whisper was followed by a hot sucking sensation that nearly pulled 
my balls back up into my groin.  This kid could give head!  Or was it 
Janet?  The size was about right.

The mysterious little nymph suddenly quit blowing me and straddled my 
cock.

"OOOOHhhhh, Daddy, you make me so hot.  I've got to have you inside 
me."

A small squeal escaped as my cock was enveloped in one of the tightest 
pussies it had had the pleasure to penetrate.  I was surprised when the 
kid took it all.  Most have to work up to it in four or five fuckings.

"OOOOOOOOOhhhh, Daddy!  You're so biiiig.  You filled me all the way u-
u-u-uu-u-up"  

Little miss nasty collapsed on my chest.  I held her gently, tweaking 
her little tits and erect nipples as she lay there until she gathered 
her wits together.  Then with a quick kiss and a whispered 'Thank You, 
Mr. Mattson!' she was gone.

I had just begun to drift off again when the door opened again.  This 
time I was a substitute for "Billy".  Then "Tommy".  Then "Daddy" 
again, twice more.  Then "Billy" was back.  I asked this one if this 
was seconds, and she said 'No'.  I told her she may want to check up on 
her two-timing boyfriend, Billy, when she got home.  For over two hours 
the parade kept up.  For a while I wondered if there was a schedule or 
something.  I thought about how ridiculous it would look if there were 
a line outside my door.  

The only differences I could tell in all the visitors that night were 
height, weight, tits and twats.  The tits I felt ranged in size from 
just bare nipples only to those that were more than a mouthful.  The 
twats were all tight, some more than others and all were wet.  But even 
after what must have been twenty orgasms on my cock, I had yet to spill 
my seed.  These cunts were so primed that they only took 5 or so 
minutes to get off, then 3 to cool down and then gone.  Slam, bam, 
thank you sailor.  That was a twist!  And each one ended with a kiss 
and a whispered "Thank you, Mr. Mattson."  I began to suspect a plot.

The last visitor was the most memorable of them all.  The time between 
visitors was a bit longer and I was actually asleep when I awoke to a 
hot mouth on my cum-coated cock.  What a way to wake up!  

But something about this one was different.  More experienced, maybe.  
Softer, fuller lips, perhaps.  When she got on board, she was quiet.  I 
wasn't a substitute for anyone with this one.  She came almost as fast 
as the others, and as she was resting on my chest, I breathed in deep, 
smelling the wonderful fragrance of her hair.  I played with her firm 
breasts, tweaking her stiff nipples.  She groaned deep in her throat 
and began to rotate her hips again.  Then she raised herself up and 
leaned over me, propping herself up on my chest with her hands, letting 
her boobs sway as she rode my prick like a pro.  

I really worked on her tits, massaging and squeezing.  I focused on the 
stiff flesh of her nipples, rolling them between my thumb and 
forefingers, first firmly, then with increasing pressure.  My 
ministrations affected her and she worked harder and harder on my cock, 
trying to get me off.  She must have gone through six or seven of her 
own shuddering orgasms, fighting her way through them to keep humping 
my log until I felt myself swelling in her.  As I spurt my cum into her 
belly, she pressed her lips to mine to gag us both.  We both yelled 
into the other's oral cavity as the moment seized us.

She lay there a long while this time, quietly twirling the hair on my 
chest.  Then finally, with a sigh, she gave me a light kiss and a 
whispered, "Thank you, sailor", she was gone.  I was still laughing as 
I fell asleep.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

End of chapter

I hope you enjoyed it.    :)

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