Joan Etch and Doctor Shanahan...

Or why you should read

Joan Ketch and Brandon Shanahan were both literary scholars. Joan was 34 years old and a PhD student. Brandon was forty and had a PhD.

Both worked together on a project on the implications of mental illness in 19th century literature in Anglo-Saxon countries.

Among others was Robert Louis Stevenson with "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" among them.

Both sat at a large table in the university library and each went about their work in silence and concentration. The various books were covered with post-its, in all colors of the rainbow.

Both looked like bores to third parties. But that was just a superficial impression of people who didn't bother to get to know them better. They worked at the Arkham University Literature Institute.

Joan was grappling with complicated considerations about the Apollonian and Dionysian aspects of Stevenson's novel. Again and again she wrote something down. It would be another piece of work to pour the most relevant out of it into iron thoughts that should stand up to closer scrutiny by colleagues.

Most of all, she wanted to impress Brandon, who had already published some excellent books on Edgar Allan Poe and H. P. Lovecraft. They had become known beyond academic circles and were selling surprisingly well.

She secretly raved about him. She was his protégé. He also behaved very correctly towards her and not just because of #Metoo. He was attractive with his black hair and warm brown eyes. But it would never occur to her to flirt with him and neither did he.

Instead, the conversations and discussions about literature were all the more stimulating.

She wore a blue blouse, not skin-tight, but comfortably cut, and jeans. She was not consciously hiding her well-built body. She just didn't care about being seductive in order to attract men. She didn't put on any make-up either. Her long brown hair was tied in a ponytail. Her blue eyes liked to sparkle behind her glasses.

Brandon also wore glasses. Unobtrusively, he let his gaze wander over and over at Joan's face and body. He just couldn't concentrate on the essay on the American Gothic of the horror novel.

He was in no relationship, and so was Joan, as he knew. So there is no need to be shy. Her natural way not to flare up, her introversion, her pretty face, her body. Her intelligence, many many little things about her, summed up to a very desirable woman. However, he was also an introvert. He didn't dare to do it, and just as little did he know whether Joan was interested in him at all. It would be terrible to be turned away by her if he tried, not only because of #Metoo but also because they had to keep working together and a bad atmosphere between them would be counterproductive.

So both raved about each other without the other even suspecting it. He looked at her again. Her sensual lips were really inviting, he thought eagerly. If only I could kiss her ...

She almost caught him pondering her face, but just in time he yawned and stretched as if nothing was there.

"It's approaching lunchtime! Time to get a snack and coffee!" he said.

"Do you want me to bring you something, Joan?"

"Yes gladly! The tea is already sick to my neck!" she joked and pointed to both of their cups, which were at a safe distance from the books and papers.

"Yes, cold-brewed tea is all the rage!" Brandon smiled.

That smile is damn sexy! thought Joan. Do you even know how hot you are? she whispered in her mind.

"OK! I'll be on my way!" He stepped dynamically on and off. Joan looked in admiration after his firm bottom, which was wonderfully emphasized by the jeans. He was in good shape and if the play of his muscles looked so promising in his clothes ...

If only she could dare to ask him out on a date. But she was very afraid of being rejected. She was the insecure type and found it difficult to cope with rejection. When something like this happened, she felt deeply hurt, which didn't help her confidence. Not that she has had too much experience in this direction. She never went to bars or other venues. So you got the reputation of being an incurable bore.

Plus, if Brandon turned her down on the case, it would certainly put a strain on their professional relationship. That would be the only kind they would ever have. She sighed. Her full bladder took its toll and she headed for the toilets.

Now, as they were both absent and their documents and books were lying around unnoticed, something extremely strange happened. "Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" mysteriously opened as if by magic. A man no bigger than a Ken doll emerged from the book. He looked extremely sinister, wore a cape, top hat and suit. Grinning, he walked to both of the two cups, took out a vial and poured some liquid into the tea. He cackled very darkly and plunged back into the book and it closed as if nothing had happened.

Joan came back and sat down at the table, followed by Brandon. They drank their coffee and ate their bagles. When the coffee was finished, they wanted to stick to the tea. Both drank from their cups, slightly delayed.

They were just about to investigate the implications of Poe's "Tell-Tale Heart" when both felt weird independently from each other.

Brandon suddenly had the urgent need to look at Joan's sensual mouth and to imagine how those moist lips would wrap around his cock. How her wet tongue sucking and licking on his stick, soaking him in her saliva. He felt his tail harden and how it throbbed and pulled in his loin. He would love to squirt his slippery juice down her throat, which she would then eagerly swallow. Good thing he had a pineapple yesterday. That would give his sperm a sweet taste. Oh dear, what thoughts did he have! Brandon was horrified. He had never thought of Joan like that before. Well, maybe yes, dark fantasies alone in his bed at night.

Joan licked her lips. How much she would like to have his stiff cock in her pussy. He should take it hard and rough. Rub her inside really intensively so that she would be reminded of it for days afterwards and then she could get wet every time. She was amazed at herself that she suddenly got such extreme horniness thinking about Brandon. Secretly at home in her bed she had the filthiest fantasies about him, but here? That didn't change the fact that she was getting wetter and her abdomen and clit were pulsing violently.

Brandon stared at her bosom and her gaze fixed on his crotch. To her delight, she saw that he was bulging, so he was very excited.

"Brandon! I want you to fuck me right now! Behind is a storage room that is currently unused. We can be undisturbed there!"

Brandon allowed himself to be taken there without arguing. He was thrilled that Joan apparently wanted him as well.

"Do you take the pill? I don't have any condoms with me!" Brandon confessed contrite.

"No problem! I do and I want to feel you pure!" breathed Joan.

He held her face gently and his warm, moist tongue snaked into her mouth. He played with her so skillfully and expended such energy that she thought he was screwing her in her mouth. If he did such things with his tongue ... She was really wet already. Her panties no longer dry.

He licked her nose and eyelids with the tip of his tongue. Then he nibbled on her earlobe and let his tongue work the shell. He gnawed and bit her neck gently. He took off her blouse and lace bra and sucked like a man possessed on her erect nipples. Her breasts felt like velvety, plump peaches.

He took off his shirt and then Joan's jeans and both their glasses. He gently pushed her to the ground. He put a hand between her legs and grinned dirty when he felt the wetness of the panties. He simply tore it up. Joan laughed heartily.

He admired her shaved pussy. The actual area of her beautiful labiae was darker than the skin on the inside of her thighs. He liked that very much. He put the inside of his hand on it and was wetted by her dew of love. Then he buried the index finger of his right hand inside her. What a sultry heat. A monsoon raged out of her. He massaged her gem. Choppy gasps escaped her throat. Then he removed his hand again. She immediately grabbed it and took this "love bone" index finger into her sensual, moist mouth. She sucked on it with great devotion and licked off her own juice, in which she was slowly cooking down under. Now it was Brandon's turn to growl with lust deep in his throat.

He went between her legs, which she spread wide for him. With the tip of his tongue he drummed a lustful rhythm on her pleasure button. How this corresponded wonderfully through its own pulsation. She moaned with pleasure. Her hands buried in his hair.

With two fingers he again quickly poked into the opening of her crevice. Oh, how wet she was now! It was no longer a monsoon, but a deluge. She almost ran out. He worked her and her G-spot with sharp strokes. At the same time, his tongue circled her clit like a dervish. His tongue exploded from its delicious flavors.

Joan was a supernova in orgasm. He felt her love tunnel contract wildly around his fingers.

He pulled out his fingers and licked them off with relish. He liked her taste very much. He should have done that long ago. "Eat" her up.

He took off his jeans and his underpants. A splendid tight rod and with distinctive veins looked tightly pulsating towards her. Joan licked her lips. In her left hand she cupped this silky warrior. She licked her lips eagerly. Her mouth watered. She got scared of drooling.

With her fingertips she exerted gentle pressure and ran up and down, over the shaft to the root and then back to the glans. Then she knelt down and clasped his cock with her wet lips. She took the glans in the sultry heat of her mouth, got wild from the salty musky taste of his precum, which she licked off. Then she took up more and more of his magic wand, started a wild oral ride on the magic flute.

Brandon stroked her hair and nudged her hips. It was such a great feeling. He had the emotion to take off immediately. It was downright bliss.

She gently kneaded his testicles, which were already heavy from the love charge to be shot. Then the time came. Brandon exploded and a downpour rained down Joan's throat. She swallowed without resistance.

Then he pulled it out.

But the way she lolled in front of him, his soldier couldn't get enough and bravely got up again after a short time.

He sat down and lifted her onto his lap. She lowered herself on top of him and let her center be penetrated inch by inch. What a sweet torture! She shuddered as his great manhood merged with her. It filled the entire depth of her cave. She sighed deeply and sweetly.

Brandon was overwhelmed by their tightness, soaking wet. Yes, he was a wild, untamed stallion and she was riding him now. She put her arms around his shoulders and began to slide up and down. Her bottom was in wild motion. Her breasts danced cha cha cha.

Snuggled together, their breathing rhythms seemed almost synchronized. Again and again he pressed his lips to her mouth and let his tongue ride wildly in the carousel of her own. He tasted himself, which stimulated him even more.

She was getting faster and faster on him. Soon he would be tame. Her inner muscles powerfully gripped his penis, which pulsed again as if it had a heart of its own. Joan screamed softly as a violent orgasm overwhelmed her. She pumped his handle until his hot geyser nourished her hidden core, starved and half-thirsty as she was.

He still stayed inside her. She didn't want to let go of this delicious messenger. So they stayed seated. Then she got off the Mustang.

They huddled together and he gave her little tender kisses everywhere.

She amazed him as she devoted herself to his balls like lollipops. He had never heard the noises that were audibly emerging from himself.

He was amazed that his brave little friend woke up a third time. As if magic was involved.

This time Joan allowed him to use the virgin back door. He made her and himself supple with liquid from the front entrance. Then he entered cautiously. They were lying on the floor, on their side, he behind her. He played with her bosom while his buddy explored uncharted territory.

A conquistador on the way to El Dorado. She relaxed. After it was initially a little uncomfortable for her because of the resistance, it suddenly improved.

He fought his way forward more and more. "He" did not know claustrophobia. The tighter the better. And the hell too, it was tight! That was so exhilarating!

He was inside her up to the absolute end of his hilt and thrust hard with his loins, which seemed to be burning. His pace got faster and faster. Joan felt his hot breath on the back of hef neck. His hands made her breast-buds glow.

She had often felt intense emptiness, but now she was literally more full than ever. She seemed to be consumed by flames.

Both managed to climax at the same time. His charge hit the bull's eye. He pulled back and then hugged her.

Then they got dressed and went to his house to take a shower. The next intensive exchange the following night was not the last, because afterwards they became a couple.

And if they didn't die, Mr. Hyde is still laughing today ...