Damn this felt good. I supposed I could Live with being a man-slut. eK

FINALS (December 2001)

I sighed miserably and placed my face straight down into my textbook, my nose slotting into the groove down the middle of the open pages.

Maybe if I concentrated hard enough the information would transmit itself to me by osmosis.

I didn't even have Amber or E-Beth to help me out this time, since they didn't share any classes with me. While E-Beth's Chemistry major and

Amber's Pre- Med had quite a bit of overlap so that they could still be study-buddies, my Engineering major had me marooned on my own.

At least I was almost done with this. With job applications happening early next year, barely any potential jobs would give a rat's ass about my Winter or Spring quarter grades.

“It doesn't work that way," came a familiar voice from the doorway.

I twisted my head so that my cheek was pressed against the plasticky page, still smelling of wood pulp and chemicals. Diane leaned against the door, wearing a light-cotton long-sleeved pajama set. On her short

5'O" frame, the fabric practically swallowed her whole. "What?" I asked.

“Osmosis. Doesn't actually work. Believe me, I've tried it."

I groaned, "Me, too. But I figure, maybe one day it WILL work..."

Diane motioned to my face.

“Keep trying then,” she smirked.

“But I think you'll get chemical poisoning before any useful information passes through your cheek." She walked over and sat down on my bed ina cross-Legged position and wrapped her arms around her stomach.

My perpetually oversexed mind immediately noticed that Diane wasn't wearing a bra. With the winter cold, her nipples were hard and her arms were pulling the pajama top tight against her breasts. I looked lower, between her spread Legs, and briefly wondered what treasures Lay there as well.

All this passed in a fraction of a second and then Diane was asking,

“So which final do you have tomorrow?"

“Advanced Fluid Dynamics," I groaned and then finally sat up. I rolled my neck around a few times trying to work out the muscle kinks that inevitably build up when you're hunched over a desk for hours on end.

“Ooh, that looks painful. Come over here," Diane ordered, waving me towards her.

“Huh?"

“C'mere," she gestured again.

I stood and walked the three steps to my bed, where Diane turned me and sat me down on the floor in front of her so that I was leaning back against my bed frame. And then her small, but strong, hands immediately went to work massaging my shoulders.

“Oh, wow..." I sighed happily and sagged back against the frame. Diane was a compact delight of pressure and form as she squeezed and rubbed and generally worked her wizardry from my neck all the way out to both biceps.

She worked me for five minutes, just chatting about campus gossip before she announced.