A Successful Venture

Another day, another dollar. Hopefully. That's the problem with college life--sometimes it's tough to make ends meet. Fortunately, a friend of yours passed along a couple of ideas he says work for quick cash.

You're scanning the classified page he provided, the potential jackpots already circled. The top one on the list is "Daphne Center for Reproductive Health".

WANTED: Men 18-25 in good health to contribute semen for screening and potential fertilization of clients. PAY $50 for all contributors and up to $1000 dependent on results of screening. Fri&Sat, 1314 Downing Street, CALL IN ADVANCE 555-7834. Only three applicants per day.

Fifty dollars for a few minute's work--so to speak? Not bad. And up to a grand? Sweet! You call the number provided and, after wrestling with the automated system, discover that you are the last applicant accepted for the day. Just under the wire! Now it's off to make some quick cash.

It's a short trip down to the clinic. You know this neighborhood pretty well--strange that you've never noticed the clinic before. Or even the street it's on. Downing? It looks new. In contrast to the decaying area around the college, sprinkled with a liberal mix of decaying warehouses transformed into nightclubs of questionable legality, Downing Street is a clean ribbon of asphalt lined with neatly trimmed green trees, and dominated by the multilevel white structure of the Daphne Center, which despite its complexity is very pleasing to the eyes. You pause in front of the clinic, looking up and down the street, which is otherwise empty. Totally, completly empty, except for you. There are no cars parked here, no other people, no other buildings--in fact, not so much as a single piece of the otherwise omnipresent litter. It's a little spooky, and you head inside.

The automatic doors of the clinic close soundlessly behind you, leaving you in the Center's vast lobby. The curved walls sweep away on either side, forming a huge round room in soft whites and gentle grays. A soft, general glow lights the place. Beyond the lobby a broad staircase sweeps up into the rest of the Center, and you can see where curved corridors branch off behind that. It definitely gives the impression of a large, sophisticated operation--but like the street outside, it is apparently deserted.

The click of a door closing at the far end of the lobby attracts your attention. Backing into the room with a large stack of files clutched to her ample chest is a statuesque blonde in a tight-fitting white nurse's outfit, complete with cap. She sits down behind a curved desk almost as soon as you see her, but you could have sworn you saw a glimpse of white stockings and a short, short little skirt. The nurse goes to work on the files, opening each one and typing away at a computer there. She looks up as if sensing your gaze and smiles. She calls across the lobby. "Can I help you?"

You approach and she closes the files, quickly locking her computer, seeming a little guilty, and--did she just..? She does it again, and now you're sure of it--the nurse just gave you a once-over. Her blue eyes meet yours and she brushes her blonde hair out of her eyes. A silver chain bearing a caudeceus--the intertwines snakes-and-winged-staff of the medical profession--draws your gaze down. The white uniform can barely contain her huge breasts, instead framing and supporting them, squeezing them together to form a deep expanse of cleavage into which the silver chain quite nearly dissapears.

"Can I...help you?" Your gaze comes back up to the nurse's face, and you realize she's caught you staring. Instead of seeming offended, she smiles, and her eyes travel up and down your form again. Her tongue wets her red, full lips, and she looks into your eyes again. "Well?"

You inform her of your appointment and her smile widens. "Oh yeah! You're kinda early." She clicks her tongue at you as if scolding you for it. "Don't worry about it. I'll finish this stuff and take you in back." She gives you a wink and nods towards one of the nearby chairs.

The sound of heels on tile draws her attention and she turns her head. Another nurse emerges from the curved corridor behind the desk, opening her mouth to say something to the blonde. She sees you and her mouth snaps shut. Her dark green eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. "Who's this?" She asks with a smile, putting one hand on her slender hips.

"Next appointment," the blonde explains. "Early."

The other nurse, looks you up and down, and then looks to the blonde. A significant glance passes between them, and the second nurse cocks her hips to the side. "I can take you back right now if you want," she says, her eyes twinkling.

With her posed like that, you can't help but check her out. The second nurse has black hair in a pixielike cut. She's short and very slender, with dark eyeshadow and black nail polish. She has small studs in one ear and another in her nose. Her nurse's outfit is just as brief as the other nurse's, clinging to her body, and she wears a pair of black heels which can't be regulation issue. She smiles at you, and you could swear there's something mischevious and knowing about the expression.

The first nurse, the blonde, speaks. "Well?" She leans back, stretching, and her huge breasts strain the fabric of her uniform. Her smile is just as smug, just as knowing.