Fertility Idol: The Professor

It's a bit of a blast from the past, a book that is no longer available for sale. While we're waiting  for Jan 8th and the return for a full work day, enjoy this: 

Chapter I

When Dana Jacobs walked into her office, she blinked at what she saw. She hadn’t left that big cardboard box on her desk. In fact, the professor didn’t even remember if she was supposed to get something like that. Exhibits went to the the museum, not to her personal office.

Oh, if they’ve damaged it, heads are going to roll, she mentally grumbled as she closed the door behind her and put her sports bag to the side. Not to mention that she really didn’t have the time for this. The College was starting the next term in a few days, after all.

She ran her hand through her thick, curly black hair with a distracted gesture, staring at the box. Walking forward, she looked at the various shipping tags on it, most of them showing that it had been routed from some of the more wild parts of the world.

A colleague? She frowned. She didn’t know of anyone in the field right now, and anthropology was a pretty tight field, so they would have told her if they were sending anything. And while it was addressed to her—clearly so—there was no return address or name on the package. To say nothing of the fact that artifacts were always supposed to go to the school so the administration would be able to show that none of their people were involved in illegal trafficking.

“Okay,” she murmured. “I guess it’s time to just take a look and find out…” Walking behind her desk, Dana pulled the drawer open, got a sharp knife that she used to open packages, and started slicing through the multiple layers of tape and cardboard.

Whoever packed this didn’t want it to get damaged,she thought, sneezing as a little cloud of oddly fragrant dust came out of the package. She didn’t blame them. Dana had known more than a few colleagues who had been motivated to nearly homicidal rage by a smashed up package— especially since it only ever happened to something you really couldn’t replace.

But once she got the first layer of packaging off, she paused. There was a letter stuck between the layers.

She pulled it out and paused, frowning at the name

Mary Wilson?

Mary? I haven’t seen her for nearly three years… Not that Dana particularly missed Mary. Mary was an example of the type of bad field work and self-serving attitudes that most other researchers liked to avoid. She was the type of woman who would happily fuck you over for a chance to get on the news and then mock you to your face about it. The last Dana had heard was that Mary was off on some jungle expedition…

Come to think of it, that was the last I heard of her. Now she remembered the discussions about it, with more than a few of her friends feeling that Mary had just run into someone who really didn’t appreciate having his heritage stolen and had therefore come to a very bad ending.

She recalled trying, but really not being able to feel that bad at the possibility that the speculations were right.

“And now she’s sending me mail,” Dana said softly. For a moment, she was tempted to repack the thing and not open it until they had the faculty dean standing by. She wouldn’t put it beyond Mary to send something really neat and horrifically illegal to her just to show off.

Frowning, she took her letter opener and sliced the envelope open, wrinkling her nose as a little more of that oddly spicy dust fell out of the envelope. Pulling out the single sheet, she started to read it, even as a few photos fell out onto the table.

###

Hi Dana!

The letter started out with a casual scrawl and Dana blinked at the handwriting. It was…exuberant, was all she could say about it.

“I’m like so happy that you’re working at a place you like, and so I sent this to you, since I don’t really do that stuff anymore. I’ve got more important things to do!”

“Oh really,” Dana muttered. “Found a TV position on ‘you’re ancestors were dummies and needed alien help’?” She shook her head and went back to reading and then felt her blue eyes widen.

“I’m knocked up, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever been!”

She hadn’t expected that…

“I found this, like, incredible fertility temple, and I guess it made me realize just how dumb I’ve been, avoiding what I really needed to do—what all women need to do, and so I found some really wonderful guys—”

Guys?

“Who gave me the kind of home I just really need! I’ve never been so content in my life, even if my belly’s so big I can barely get out of the door, but I love the way it feels and how healthy I feel. The doctor told me something about the jungle has just made me’an all my girlfriends”—Dana noted a happy smile and heart by the word—“really healthy, which is good, because I expect I’m going to be knocked up a lot more!”

Then, suddenly, the letter changed from merely being odd, and went into being downright pornographic.

“There’s nothing better than being on my knees, Dana, right in front of a guy, who has his hands on my head and is letting me know that for tonight, I’m his woman. That he’ll do whatever he wants with me, and I love it… Because that’s really what I’m meant to be. A guy’s girl. A hot, big-titted slut (did I tell you my boobs have, like, exploded?) that’ll do whatever her man wants. I never used to suck cock, but now I do it all the time, and I can tell who I’m sucking off, even when they blindfold me, and they do that a lot. We get in a big circle and pull our clothes off, and then the guys come up to us and blindfold us so we can’t see anything, and then we kneel down, and we get to see if we can tell who is letting us suck their cock…”

Dana put the letter down, face blank in shock. The only time Mary liked to fuck someone was when she got something out of it. She’d remembered the stories of how Mary always got the best grants… right after she’d gone to her adviser’s office late at night for special meetings. And here she was, talking about being on her knees, blindfolded, sucking guys off as if they were giving her a gift.

Abruptly, Dana sneezed. She waved her hand around, trying to dissipate the dust that had accumulated from the box and letter. Whatever it was, it was an incredibly fine powder, just hovering in the air, filling the room with that oddly attractive smell.

Some sort of pollen? Dana thought, trying to divert her thoughts from the image of stuck-up Mary on her knees, eagerly waiting to service the next cock that would be presented to her, her chin already dripping with all the semen that had been sprayed over her face…

She shook her head violently, banishing the image. Even absent, Mary was driving her nuts. Then she saw something fall out from the folded papers and land on the floor.

A photo. Dana reached down and picked it up, flipping it over so she could see what was on it.

No. Fucking. Way. The photo was of Mary. Sort of. Not the Mary she’d ever seen before. Not the kind of Mary she’d ever expected to see.

Mary was standing on the porch of some sort of structure, her face radiant with an oddly submissive look of pleasure. But that wasn’t what was amazing. Her tits were stretching out the fabric of her T-shirt, the large, dark areolas showing through the thin fabric. Dana guessed that they were almost half again as big as Mary’s tits had been the last time she had seen the girl.

But that wasn’t the only thing— her belly was full and heavy, making her look like she was almost seven months gone, instead of the three months noted on the photo.

Only three months? How many damned offspring is she going to punch out?

One of Mary’s hands was splayed out over her tummy, and Dana realized something that she hadn’t noticed—Mary’s radiant, happy expression. Mary had never been interested in being a broodmare, or so she’d said loudly, but suddenly Dana realized that Mary looked happier than she’d ever been before. Fingers clumsy, Dana pulled out the last sheet.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Mary had written. “I never expected to get this big, but there’s something great about it about being so completely helpless, with my dugs dripping with milk…and the guys really like that. I’ve found my place, cooking, cleaning and punching out may man’s offspring— or men, because it’s not like I know who the dad is!

“Anyway,since I’m, like not interested in doing all that boring stuff anymore, I figured you’d like this idol. I found it right before I found the men, and got interested in other stuff. Have fun!”

Dana paused, staring at the box. That was it. No demands that she pay Mary or give Mary credit, not even that she owe Mary a favor…

Mary looked like the only favors she wanted were guys with nice big cocks. The way her hips had been cocked, even with that big belly showed she was horny, and if she was only three months gone…

Suddenly, Dana got the image of Mary riding a man, her swollen belly gleaming in the light while she sucked off another guy, her free hand giving a third guy a hand job. She was covered with their spunk, her tits bouncing freely, little showers of cream coming from…

Dana took a deep breath and tried to center herself. That really wasn’t an image she’d expected, and she hadn’t expected to feel herself getting positively hot, either.

Although the idea of stuck up Mary deciding to live life as some guy’s fucktoy did turn her on a little big…she didn’t know why, but it did.

Not that any guy would be doing that with Dana. She had other things to do, and in any case, her tits weren’t nearly as big as Mary’s were. No guy who wanted Mary would be interested in someone like Dana, who looked positively flat-chested in contrast.

She bit her lip, oddly disappointed at that thought.

Finally, she turned to the box. It was time to see what Mary had sent her…