6th period study hall: Mrs. Pill

As you stagger through the deserted hallways toward the main office, your face is killing you. You take the towel from around your waist and hold it up to your nose. It instantly starts to flower with blood, and though the pressure hurts, you assume that it's helpful.

Then, to add insult to injury, something occurs that has never happened to you before. You piss yourself. A mixture of pain, confusion, and that series of events that kept you from the bathroom all day all collide into one colossal accident. And once you start, as the saying goes, you just can't stop. You stand still, hand on your face, soaking your swim suit and making a small puddle on the floor.

You're mortified, of course, though immensely relieved (no pun intended) that no one saw you. You wipe your urine off the floor with the bloody towel and, not knowing what else to do, continue to the office. Fortunately (and perhaps strangely relatedly?), your pain has started to improve.

As soon as you walk in, the receptionist jumps to his feet. "Young man, do you need to see the nurse?"

"Yes, please," you say.

"Of course, right away," he says and leads you to a side door. You've never visited the nurse's office during school hours before, though you were here on That Night with her very timid, and very naked, daughter.

The receptionist knocks curtly and, without waiting for an answer, opens the door. He ushers you in as he calls out, "Excuse me, we have an emergency here." You step into the office as the receptionist closes the door behind you.

A startled Mrs. Pill stands up from her desk and turns to face you. She has the same curly dark hair as Rachel and the same creamy smooth skin. She's wearing a plain, brown, knee-length skirt, but her white, sleeveless blouse is very alluring. A light jacket is on the back of her chair, and it seems that she was trying to escape the heat while alone in her office by undoing the top few buttons of her shirt.

"My goodness," she calls out. "Here, please sit down." She motions to the blue examination bed where you fondled her daughter four weeks ago. You do as she asks, and she continues, "What happened?"

"I got kicked in the face in the pool," you say.

"That sounds painful," she says, and you have the distinct impression that that's "nurse talk" for "uh huh." She approaches you to examine your nose but hesitates. You can read on her face what she's thinking.

"Listen," you say, a deep blush creeping from your neck up to your chin. "Before... Well..." Fuck it, she's a professional. MILF or no, it's her fucking job to help me. "Um," you start again, "I pissed myself on the way over here."

"You what?" she says.

"I didn't have a chance to go to the bathroom all day, and it hurt so much, and I just had to let it go. I'm sorry."

You see pity overtake her face, and she soothingly says, "It's OK, sweetie. Don't worry about it. What's your name?" she asks. You tell her, and you tell her your birthday when she asks. "Oh, so you're a senior, then?" You tell her yes. It looks like she's making a quick decision, and from the looks of it, it's guided largely by her nose.

"Listen, why don't you get rid of that suit and wrap yourself in that towel? Then I'll take a look at you."

"OK," you say quietly.

"Great," she says. "But let's be quick."

Rachel's mom pulls a privacy curtain between you, and your head clears for the first time since Karishma stomped your face. Now's your chance, man, you encourage yourself. You recall the numerous chats you've read through her dating profile and the steamy pictures and videos she's emailed to various boyfriends. You've been thinking of her as nymphomaniac for weeks, especially once you realized that she's always has a preference for guys in their early twenties (from when she was 16 all the way until today).

You pull off your pee-soaked swim suit and drop it in the trash can. You add your towel to it, take out the bag, and tie it shut.

"OK, but, um," you say slowly, "I actually used the towel to clean myself up before. So I really needed to throw it out with my trunks. Can you still examine me?"

If brains could buzz, you'd be able to hear hers from across the room. After a beat, she finally says, "Of course, honey."

So there you are, sitting naked on an examination table, when the world's hottest nurse opens the curtain to take a look. With a flash of insight, you lie back on the table, your flaccid dick resting on your leg.

You can't help but notice the nurse notice you. Her eyes flit to your penis and then work their way up to your face. She takes a short breath and says sweetly, "OK honey, let's get you fixed up."

She walks over to you with a damp cloth and starts to daub the blood off your face. The pain has gone down considerably, though you still wince when she presses too hard against your nose. "Sorry sweetie, I'll try to be gentle," she says, and she slows down her pace, wiping around your cheeks, chin, and nose.

Your eyes, meanwhile, remain active and alert. While Mrs. Pill focuses on your face, your attention is fixed on her breasts. The nurse leans over you, putting her chest right in your line of sight, and with the several top buttons undone and her light jacket not available to restrain her blouse, you have a beautifully unobstructed view. Her DD tits hang inches from your body, jiggling slightly with her gentle ministrations. The heat in the room is pretty intense, and you can actually make out a line of sweat between her massive boobs, which snuggle comfortable in a sensible white bra.

While she cleans your face and you stare at her tits, the nurse banters idly with you.

"So, senior year, huh?"

"Yep. Can't wait to graduate."

"What's been your favorite part about going to school here?"

"You know, I hadn't thought about it. Probably my friends."

"Hm, yeah, that makes sense. You know, my daughter is a senior here, too."

"Yeah, actually, I did know that. Rachel, right?"

"That's right."

"Actually, she's in Industry and Technology with me."

"Oh, really? That's nice," she says sweetly. "I hope you have fun together."

"Yeah," is all you can manage to reply.

"OK you're all cleaned up," Mrs. Pill says, drawing your eyes to her own. "Now I need to see if anything's broken."

The nurse proceeds to poke and prod your face, and while your nose is still fairly tender, you're relieved to learn that there's no lasting damage. "Just go easy," she instructs you. "Don't press on it too hard."

The irony of her phrasing becomes obvious as she steps away from your face, pulling her breasts out of your direct line of sight. You both become aware that you are sporting a significant erection. (What is that, three today?) You feel the familiar sensation of blush creeping up your neck, and you mutter, "Sorry." You realize you got a bit carried away with the hot nurse fantasy and you may have pushed things too far.

"Nothing to apologize for," Mrs. Pill chirps brightly. "All perfectly natural." She pauses a beat, then says, "So, anything else you need?"

Is there ever?! you think to yourself. Your mind races, trying to find a way to keep this interaction going as long as possible. "Well, actually, would you mind if I asked another question?"

"Sure, honey, go ahead," Mrs. Pill says as she walks toward her desk chair. An idea strikes you, and you hope the whole thing won't end up in a colossal backfire.

"Well, I was talking with my friend Derek earlier, and he said you had told him he has..."

"Crabs?" Mrs. Pill says straightly. "Nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie. All perfectly natural."

"Right. Crabs. Anyway, he said he got them from his girlfriend, Madison."

"Mm hmm."

"Well, actually, I think I might have gotten them from her, too."

"Oh, really?" she says. "What symptoms have you experienced."

"No symptoms," you say. "But we ... did some things. And I was just wondering if you could check me out."

Perhaps that last line went a bit too far. _Stupid, you pushed your damn luck, _you berate yourself as the nurse pauses, considering what to do next.

Your heart skips a beat as she says, "OK honey, no problem. All perfectly natural." Mrs. Pill turns to put on some rubber gloves and you can't believe your good fortune. She returns to your bedside and says, "I'm going to examine you now, OK?"

"Yes, OK," you say, your mouth suddenly dry.

The nurse leans over your groin and starts combing through your pubic hair with her delicate fingers. To find evidence of the tiny lice you know aren't there, she has to look very closely, bringing her face within inches of your hard and now twitching cock.

You inhale sharply as Mrs. Pill gently touches your erection, pushing it out of the way of her close examination. She keeps one hand on your shaft while the other combs through your pubic hair.

"So far, you're looking really good," Mrs. Pill says. You can't respond since you're using all your concentration to try to avoid ejaculating. "I just need to check under here now," she says as she pushes your penis up with one hand and combs her fingers through the hair under your balls.

This is just too much - one hand holding your shaft, the other seemingly massaging your testicles and you can't hold it in any longer. Just as Mrs. Pill says, "I think you're all clear, dear," you suddenly shoot off a massive wad of cum, which arcs perfectly into her full, dark hair.

The nurse stands up quickly while you continue to ejaculate on yourself. You're shaking with excitement and embarrassment, and you mutter a very quiet, "I'm so sorry."

"Sam," she says sternly. "You should warn a woman before that happens." Did I hear that right? You look at her in surprise. "Nothing to worry about," she says calmly. "All perfectly natural. I will say, you're quite a healthy young man. Here, let's get you cleaned up."

Mrs. Pill takes some moist sanitizing wipes and starts to clean the cum off your stomach and groin. She takes your softening penis in her hands and wipes it down, too, nearly giving you a heart attack. When you're all cleaned up, she turns her attention to a mirror on the wall and starts to wipe your cum out of her black, bouncy hair. As she does, she continues to speak to you.

"I do hope you're using condoms with Madison. And anyone else you might have sexual activity with. You don't want to get a nice girl pregnant, and you don't want to catch something even worse than crabs." Perfectly in-character. After all, the students call her Mrs. Pill because of her obsession over birth control.

"Yes, ma'am," you say. "Thank you Mrs.-"

"Please, call me Sarah," she says. "I insist on being on a first-name basis with my daughter's friends."

"OK," you reply. "Thank you, Sarah."

"You're welcome, dear." She smiles at you, her hair now cum-free, and says, "Now, let's see if we can find you something to wear."

The nurse once again closes the privacy curtain, and you hear the door to her office open and close. Fuuuuuck, you say to yourself. What was that?