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Patrick deserved it just as much. Thinking of Patrick, she couldn't help but think of his stiff penis and her jump off the gymnastic box. She noticed how wet she was getting again at the memory. She would have loved to touch herself right then and there, but the two little ones in the back seat were a good reason to refrain from doing so. Besides, she had to find a parking spot somewhere, and the many parked SUVs weren't exactly helpful. Their owners almost always took up two parking spaces because they couldn't handle the proportions of their SUVs.

Anna and Lisa were already craning their necks to see if any of their friends from their group were anywhere to be seen. Svenja was proud of the two of them because, for once, they weren't messing around in the back seat during the drive, so she could concentrate on the traffic without any problems. Now that they could see the kindergarten, however, they were already starting to fidget restlessly in their seats again.

"When can we finally get out?" Lisa wanted to know.

"As soon as I find a parking space, sweetheart."

"And why haven't you found a parking space yet?" Anna now wanted to know.

"Because all the moms here with their fat cars always park so stupidly!"

"And why do they do that?"

"Because those idiots can't drive properly!"

"Didn't they get their driver's license?"

"Yes. But probably only for a small car."

"Then why are they driving a big car?"

"Because all the other moms drive big cars too."

"My mom drives a big car too."

"Yes, Lisa, mine does too, and Anna's mom as well," replied Svenja, rolling her eyes.

"But my mom doesn't park so stupidly!"

"That's true!"

"Hey Svenja, what exactly are idiots?"

"They are big car drivers who can't drive properly, right, Svenja?" Anna answered for her sister.

"Yes, Anna, you've been paying attention. Oh, look, one of the idiots is getting into her big car over there. Maybe she'll drive away?"

"But that's not an idiot, that's Bernice-Fabiennes's mom!"

"Bernice-Fabienne? I see. So she's an Idiot after all! But still better than calling her daughter Cleopatra!"

"Bernice-Fabienne even has her own cell phone!"

"And a tablet with loooads of vidos of the little princess!" added Anna.

"Well, that doesn't really surprise me. Her mom must be happy because now she doesn't have to read bedtime stories to Bernice-Fabienne anymore! By the way, it's not called vido, it's called video!"

"But I prefer being read to!

"Yeah, me too! A lot, actually!"

"Your mom isn't an idiot, she's really sweet, loving and caring!"

"Don't idiots read bedtime stories to their children?"

"In any case, only idiots give their four-year-old daughters cell phones and tablets!"

"If my mom were an idiot, would she give us cell phones too?"

"Your mom isn't an idiot, Anna. Mom loves you too much to give you a cell phone. Mom prefers to give you lots of time she spends with you."

"Look, Svenja, I think Bernice-Fabiennes's idiot is leaving now. She's definitely sitting in her big car now!"

"Well, to me it looks more like she's on the phone. I don't think she'll be leaving for a while," said Svenja contritely.

"Look, Svenja. Another idiotl is driving off up ahead!"

"Great, then you'll still make it to kindergarten on time today!"

A little later, Svenja had finally parked the Golf in one of the two available parking spaces, unbuckled the two little ones from their car seats, and taken them both by the hand. Anna and Lisa skipped happily beside their big sister as she hurried towards the building. They were just about to ring the doorbell when they heard a loud metallic clang coming from the direction of the parking lot.

"You two stay right here and don't move until I get back!" Svenja demanded of the twins before running back to the parking lot. She caught sight of Bernice-Fabienne's mother, who was looking around nervously with her phone to her ear, before she got out of her Touareg and inspected the Ford Fiesta parked behind her. Its left front and fender were completely crumpled, and the headlight had fallen out! Thinking quickly, Svenja had pulled her own phone out of her pocket and taken some photos before Bernice's mother even noticed her.

"Hey, what are you doing? You can't take pictures of me! Haven't you ever heard of data protection, you little bitch?"

"I'm not pleased at all by being called a bitch, and I don't think it's illegal to take pictures of drivers who are smashing into other people's cars while talking on their phones!" Svenja retorted, unfazed.

"YOU DELETE THOSE PHOTOS RIGHT NOW, YOU LITTLE BRAT, OR YOU'LL HAVE TO DEAL WITH MY HUSBAND, AND HE'S A LAWYER!" the woman shouted, hurrying towards her.

"Too late! They're all already on my WhatsApp group!" Svenja grinned, showing her the screen with the confirmation message.

"YOU'RE GIVING ME YOUR NAME AND ADDRESS RIGHT NOW!" the woman snapped, standing angrily in front of her.

"I'm not going to do anything. I'm going to call the university now and let them know that I'll be late because I have to give a statement to the police first."

"But I'm not at fault for the accident at all. If that stupid Fiesta hadn't parked so far from the curb, nothing would have happened!"

"I don't think Claudia from the squirrel group sees it that way. As far as I know, the Fiesta belongs to her. And if you can't manage to back out of such a huge parking space without wrecking other cars, maybe you should just walk!"

"YOU CHEEKY PIECE OF BITCH, I'LL KILL YOU..."

"Go ahead and keep talking, I'm recording you on video. I'm really curious to see how many likes I'll get for this video on Facebook."

By now, several mothers, a father, and some grandparents had gathered around her, either just coming from kindergarten or on their way there with their little ones. They all curiously examined the completely mangled Fiesta and shook their heads in disbelief, as far as they could tell from the conversation between Svenja and Bernice-Fabienne's mother. An older woman now chimed in as well.

"I saw exactly how she backed into the other car with her cell phone to her ear!" she exclaimed indignantly to the otheres standing arround Bernice-Fabienne's mother.

"Well, if you're too stupid to pay attention to the sensors beeping when you're reversing..." added one of the grandfathers, who had just dropped his grandson off at Kindergarten.

Svenja was about to say something when she remembered that the twins were still standing in front of the daycare, waiting for her. She hurried back and arrived just in time as Gabi opened the door to let them and some other children in.

"Wow, Svenja, you've grown so much!" Gabi exclaimed, delighted to recognize her.

"Hi Gabi, I'm afraid I don't have any time right now. Could you please call Claudia quickly? A mother just crashed her SUV into her Fiesta, and it's not looking like just a slight scratch!"

"Oh my god, of course, I'll call her right away. Anna and Lisa, could you please come inside? You can leave your shoes and jackets on; we were going to go into the woods anyway!"

"Did some idiot wreck Claudia's little car with her big car?" Lisa asked, and Anna looked at her older sister questioningly.

"Yeah, and what an idiot!" Svenja replied, rolling her eyes. "And all because she absolutely had to drive with her cell phone glued to her ear!"

"Oh, so that must have been the same idiot who's Bernice-Fabiennes's mom, right?"

"You guessed it, sweetheart!"

"Then Claudia's going to be mad at Bernice-Fabienne now, isn't she?"

"But no, my darling. Bernice-Fabienne is not to blame that her mother can't drive," said Svenja. "And she can't help it that her mother named her Bernice-Fabienne either!" she thought to herself, without, however, expressing this thought aloud.

Svenja gave them both a goodbye kiss on the forehead and a playful pat on the bottom before they disappeared back towards the other children. You just had to love them!

"Bye Gabi!" said Svenja, who was already hurrying back to the accident scene.

"Bye Svenja, it was nice to see you again!" Gabi called after her.

When Svenja arrived back at the accident site, a large crowd had gathered. The older woman had already called the police after Bernice-Fabiennes's mother had become too rude and even insulted her. Claudia arrived a short time later and threw her hands up in despair when she saw her beloved "Fiasco," as she had affectionately nicknamed her Fiesta. One of the bystanders remarked that it would probably be a total loss, as the bodywork had been badly damaged by the impact of the heavy Touareg.

It wasn't long before a patrol car arrived, and two young police officers inspected the damage and took photos, after repeatedly admonishing Bernice-Fabiennes's mother, who had identified herself as Mrs. Lehmann-Mackenroth, to moderate her tone. She had repeatedly threatened them with her husband, a very influential lawyer, but now played the offended party and said nothing more.

Svenja glanced nervously at her watch as she described her observations to the two officers. After she showed them the photos from her cell phone, one of the officers praised her quick thinking in taking pictures immediately after the incident.

"Look, Paul," he said to his colleague. "That's the third person this month who loses control of her car and crashes while on her cell phone!"

Ms. Lehmann-Mackenroth, who had overheard this, angrily confronted the officer. "I DIDN'T LOSE CONTROL AT ALL! Did you see how far away that person parked her car from the sidewalk?" she pointed at the kindergarten teacher, "No normal person expects that when they're backing out of a parking space! Besides, I wasn't even on the phone. I was just putting my cell phone on the charger."

"Oh, I see. And to check how much battery life it had, you held it to your ear, right?"

The officer shoved the photo that Svenja had sent him under her nose, at which point she turned bright red.

"THIS PHOTO IS ILLEGAL AND WAS TAKEN WITHOUT MY CONSENT! YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO USE IT AT ALL! MY HUSBAND WILL TAKE THE STRONGEST ACTION IF YOU DO NOT DELETE THIS ILLEGAL PHOTO IMMEDIATELY!"

"Would you prefer we confiscate your cell phone as evidence? We can certainly trace all your conversations down to the second. Furthermore, I must ask you to please keep your voice down!"

"HOW DARE YOU! Do you even know WHO you're talking to?" she snapped, looking at the officer with a contemptuous expression.

"Of course I do. I'm speaking to someone strongly suspected of causing an accident with serious property damage while being distracted by her cell phone."

"YOU DON'T THINK I HAVE TO TAKE SUCH AN OUTRAGEOUS ACCUSATION FROM SUCH A TINY, LITTLE OFFICER, DO YOU?"

"It seems to me you completely misjudge your situation. If you think you can insult us here and obstruct our investigation, I'll have to arrest you!"

"LISTEN UP, YOU LOUSY LITTLE STREET COP. I KNOW THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY PERSONALLY, AND HE'LL TELL YOU HOW YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO DO YOUR JOB! YOU'LL SEE WHAT YOUR INSOLECE WILL LEAD TO..."

She didn't get any further, because before she could even finish her last sentence, a pair of handcuffs clicked shut. Kicking hysterically, she was led by the two officers to the patrol car, where her head was forced under the roof pillar before the rear door slammed shut behind her.

Svenja was starting to get worried, as it was becoming clear she would be late for class. She asked one of the two police officers if he could record a video excuse for her absence from school on her phone.

"Sure, no problem. I'd be happy to do it for such a pretty young lady," the officer tried to flirt. "Just tell me who and what exactly you want me to say."

Svenja gave him the name of her teacher and asked him to simply confirm that she had to give an important statement and that was why she had been held up. After the officer had recorded the video as requested, Svenja took her phone back and put it back in her jacket pocket, relieved. Her morning was saved!

With this excuse in hand, Svenja decided to take her time. However, she voluntarily refrained from speeding on the motorway, given the accident she had just seen. The first double period that morning was physiotherapy in post surgery with Ms. Kendling, an extremely unpleasant teacher. Ms. Kendling liked to flaunt the fact that she was the head physiotherapist of the university hospital, to whom all the physiotherapists from all clinical departments of the university hospital were subordinate. What Ms. Kendling didn't know, however, was that her big secret how she had even gotten that position was no longer a secret at all.

Almost everyone at the clinic knew that many years ago, as a young physiotherapy student, she had an affair with a married doctor who later rose to become a professor and head of the university hospital. She ultimately owed her position to him, despite not being in the least bit qualified for it. Any junior physiotherapist was more competent than Ms. Kendling, who was notorious among physiotherapists far beyond the city limits for her antiquated and sometimes brutal treatment methods. Manual therapy was the work of the devil to her, and she viewed any further training for physiotherapists with great suspicion. She was so self-absorbed that she believed she didn't need any post graduate education. Every physiotherapist who had ever worked under her at the university hospital could tell of at least one, if not several, "accidents" that Ms. Kendling had caused while treating her patients. These included numerous shoulder dislocations, ligament ruptures, and rib fractures for which she was personally responsible. For any other physiotherapist, this would have resulted in immediate dismissal. But not for Ms. Kendling, because she was under the personal protection of the professor who was her former lover!

This professor also managed to prevent the physiotherapy school from revoking Ms. Kendling's teaching license due to her professional and pedagogical incompetence. Just minutes after the school handed her the termination notice, a fax from the professor arrived at the school office. In it, the school was given an ultimatum: continue to employ Ms. Kendling as a teacher. Otherwise, the university hospital would immediately ban all physiotherapy students and instructors from all departments of the hospital. The physiotherapy school ultimately had to yield to this blackmail, as a ban on entering the university hospital would have meant closing the school altogether. That same day, Ms. Kendling, with a malicious grin, slammed the torn-up termination letter back onto the headmistress's desk!

As a consequence of this blackmail, the physiotherapy school had to assign the instructor hired to replace Ms. Kendling to two less important elective courses. This was particularly painful for the physiotherapy school, as the new specialist teacher had the highest possible qualification and had also successfully completed the Heidelberg teacher training seminar for therapy professions.

Before pressing down the door handle to the classroom at 9:05 a.m., Svenja treated herself to an espresso and a croissant in the cafeteria. Thirty-five minutes of unexcused lateness would normally be recorded as an absence, but she wasn't worried about that, thanks to the video on her smartphone. As she entered the room, Ms. Kendling turned directly toward her and stood before her in a posture that seemed to demand obedience.

"Good morning, Ms. Petersen. I hope you have a good excuse for sleeping in so late today!"

Ms. Kendling looked triumphantly over the heads of the class, probably expecting to hear murmurs of approval from the aspiring physiotherapists. Irritated, she looked back at Svenja when the expected support failed to materialize.

"Good morning Ms. Kendling. I'm really sorry, but the police wouldn't let me leave until they had recorded my statement as a witness to an accident."

"Oh, now that's what I call a creative excuse! When did you come up with that?"

Ms. Kendling turned back to the other students, visibly surprised that there was still no agreement from the young women, whom she, in her characteristic overconfidence, had assumed were on her side.

"I came up with the excuse shortly after I gave my statement to the police," Svenja replied, looking confidently into Ms. Kendling's eyes.

"Oh really? And at which police station was that supposed to have been? You do realize I'm going to find this out, don't you? You know that it makes no sense lying to me, right?"

"No idea," Svenja replied somewhat snidely. "I'm afraid I'm not very familiar with lying."

"Oh really? Having a little too much self confidence, huh? Okay, what's the name of the station?"

"I don't know which station the officers were from. I gave my statement right at the scene of the accident and saw no reason to ask them about their station."

"Where and when did this mysterious accident supposedly happen?"

Instead of answering her, Svenja pulled her smartphone out of her pocket, unlocked it, opened the video, and held it right in front of Ms. Kendling's face. Ms. Kendling stared intently at the young police officer as Svenja started the video.

"Good morning, Ms. Kendling. Police Sergeant Wengerich, Third police department. Please excuse us for holding up Ms. Petersen. She is our key witness in a serious traffic accident. Unfortunately, it took a while to secure the scene and have time to take Ms. Petersen's statement. Ms. Petersen behaved very admirably, for which we would like to express our sincere gratitude. If you have any further questions, Ms. Petersen will gladly give you my station's number."

"Apology accepted!" Svenja said with a smug sense of triumph as she switched off her phone and put it back in her jacket pocket.

"Uh, okay, I'll let you off the hook this time. But you'll have to make up for the missed class. Next week, I'll make sure you know the pneumonia and thrombosis prophylaxis measures in the exact order!"

"Of course," Svenja thought, "that old cow had to make some stupid remark like that so she could still play the victor after her humiliation in front of the whole class." Grumpily, she sat down in her seat and asked Melanie, her seatmate, to show her the list of pneumonia and thrombosis prophylaxis measures, or "PTP" for short, that she had written down. She secretly took a picture of the list with her phone. "I mustn't get caught using my mobile phone now, otherwise Ms. Kendling will come up with some other form of harassment for me," she thought to herself.

For years, Ms. Kendling ruled over the physiotherapy department in the surgery section of the university hospital. She had created a so-called "handout" for every conceivable surgical procedure that the surgical physiotherapists had to follow. These handouts described in minute detail which exercises patients were to perform and in what order. Under no circumstances was this sequence to be deviated from, leaving absolutely no room in the therapy to address the individual needs and problems of any patient. There was even an explicit warning against allowing even the slightest deviation from Ms. Kendling's instructions. If she caught anyone doing so, they were reprimanded in front of the patients as if they had endangered the patients' lives. For example, it was enough to have the patient's feet raised outwards first and then inwards during the PTP (pneumonia and thrombosis prophylaxis) exercise. The PTP handout listed the inward movement before the outward movement, so this had to be strictly adhered to, without any medical justification whatsoever.

The physiotherapists in Ms. Kendling's department were fundamentally different from those in other departments of the university hospital. This profession typically requires attentive observation and examination of patients in order to treat them with measures tailored to their individual condition. This demands a considerable degree of expertise and a willingness to pursue continuing education. However, independent thinking was something Ms. Kendling was completely incapable of, and in her view, continuing education was superfluous anyway.

When Ms. Kendling found out that one of her employees was attending anexternal training course behind her back, that employee's career in the department stalled, as the head of the department wouldn't tolerate anyone being better trained than herself. Consequently, the surgical department consisted mainly of lethargic, unmotivated physios who viewed their work merely as a job and had no problem simply going through the motions with each patient, following the written instructions on handouts. If you were assigned twenty patients a day, each with twenty different surgical procedures, you would simply select the twenty pre-printed, laminated handouts from the file box, complete your rounds on the wards, and then return them to the file box before the end of your shift.

And Svenja had to memorize exactly this kind of handout, in this case for the PTP, by next week! She would have much preferred to go home right then, but of course that wasn't possible, so she sat through the rest of the lesson in a bad mood and bored. At least she was looking forward to teaching all this nonsense to Patrick when she got home. And once again, she felt herself getting aroused at the thought of Patrick!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

PATRICK:

The brief moment I spent in the bathroom was enough for Christine to fall back into a deep sleep. I wasn't tired at all myself, having already slept through the entire afternoon and evening yesterday. So I simply snuggled up to her, pulled the thin blanket over us, and put my arm around her warm, soft body. As I watched in surprise as her chest rose and fell beneath my arm with her even breathing, a thousand thoughts raced through my mind. I couldn't finish any of them, however, and so I let Christine's energy rub off on me, and minutes later I too fell asleep again.

The first thing I consciously registered was the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Blinking, I tried to open my eyes, which were immediately struck by the sun, now much higher in the sky. Christine was crouching in front of the bed, her chin resting on her hands, watching me wake up. The smile she gave me warmed me even more than the sun shining directly into my eyes. Christine seemed to notice this, because she got up and lowered the blind just enough so that its shadow fell across my face before crouching down in front of me again.

"Good morning, my darling, did you sleep well?"

It touched my soul hearing Christine call me "my darling". I could have screamed with joy, but my scream would only have spoiled this romantic moment, so I simply smiled gratefully at her and took one of her hands, drawing it towards me to kiss her. A radiant smile spread across Christine's face. Slowly, she lowered her upper body onto the bed, pressing her lips tenderly to mine. Her tongue gently tapped against mine, and I let it in, uniting with her in a kiss that lasted for minutes.

After she broke her kiss, Christine slid back down and gazed at me almost incredulously, as if she wanted to see deep into my soul. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, and it was only a moment before they overflowed and streamed down her face.

"But Christine, what's wrong? Why are you suddenly so sad? Did I do anything wrong?"

I was completely bewildered and couldn't understand what was happening. But she just looked at me lovingly with her tear-filled eyes and placed a hand on my cheek.

"No, my darling, you haven't done anything wrong at all. On the contrary. I've never been kissed like that before, Patrick. It really hit me last night that I wasted so many years tied to the father of my children, even though the love between us had long since faded, if it ever truly existed. Now I feel it even more clearly. I've never felt such warmth and closeness with him as in that moment when we just kissed. When I really think about it, he's just been using me all this time. The more I think about it, the more I realize that for him I was always just the cook and the mother of his children, whom he never really cared for anyway. And when he felt like having sex, we just had sex. In retrospect, it was always just a mechanical act, never a true union on an emotional level, like I experienced it with you last night."

Suddenly, Christine burst into heartbreaking sobs. It almost broke my heart to see her like that, as she began to weep bitterly and tremble all over. I climbed out of bed, crouched down beside her on the floor, and hugged her tightly, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder and the back of her head.

"Please don't cry, Christine. It's really upsetting me to see you like this."

"Oh, Patrick, you're so sweet. Don't worry about me," she said, her chest still shaking from her sobs. "It's okay, but your kiss just completely threw me off."

For several minutes, I simply held Christine in my arms without a word, which thankfully calmed her down. She kept turning to me for a quick kiss on my lips, though I got the impression she didn't want to kiss me as passionately as before, so as not to react so emotionally again.

"You know what I don't understand?" I asked her after a while. "Last night, you gave me the impression that you and your husband had a pretty active sex life. The way you described it, you must have had sex at almost every opportunity, right?"

"Yes, we actually did. But frequent sex isn't necessarily the same as good sex, something I'm only just now beginning to realize. You might assume that I'm very experienced sexually for my age. However, you have to keep in mind that my experience was with only one partner. You know, I was only fifteen when I met him and he got me pregnant. I was young, naive, and completely inexperienced. He was charming, good-looking, and had his own car, which impressed me at the time. He was already twenty-two, and I simply trusted that he had a lot of experience and knew what he was doing.

In English, sleeping together is called "making love," just like in French, "faire l'amour." Isn't that what sex is supposed to be? Unfortunately, he never made love to me the way you did to me last night. His kisses never held the passion you just made me feel. When my husband was in the mood for sex, we simply fucked, even if I wasn't in the mood myself. At least I usually enjoyed it, probably because I reach orgasm very easily and quickly. For me, this was always synonymous with fulfilling sex, simply because I didn't know any different.

But when we looked so deeply into each other's eyes yesterday, while we made love so slowly and passionately, it was like a revelation for me. For the first time, I truly realized that sex can be so much more than just the mechanical rubbing of two genitals against each other. I can't remember a single time my husband ever looked into my eyes so intently and passionately during sex as you did. And it's exactly the same the other way around, because I can't remember ever looking into his eyes for so long while he was having sex with me. That has to mean something, right? We've always just had sex, but we've never truly made love like you and I did last night. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Yes, I totally understand what you mean. When I looked into your eyes last night during your orgasm, it looked to me like pure happiness and boundless joy for life that you radiated in that moment. The sight of you completely blew me away, and I will certainly never forget it for the rest of my life. I can't even imagine what I would have missed if I had closed my eyes at that moment!"

"Yes, I felt exactly the same way the moment I felt you come inside me. It was simply incredible to see the change in your eyes, to truly experience your pleasure, to see it at the same time as I heard you moan and felt you come deep inside me. For the first time in sex, I experienced that there's so much more to it than just penetration, which is what it usually boiled down to with my husband. Above all, it always followed more or less the same pattern with him. There weren't many variations, apart from the occasional change of position. And there was never really any foreplay. Believe it or not, in all the years we were together, my husband never went down on me, never brought me to orgasm with his tongue like you did tonight. And then you come along and catch me the stars from the sky with your tongue, as if it were the most natural thing in the world!"

"Seriously? Am I the first person to go down on you then?"

"Yes, indeed, that's you. And how you are!"

I really couldn't believe it. Until now, I'd always thought that oral sex was just part of it. At least, that's been more or less the case in every porn video I've ever watched online. I don't know if that's why I did it, but it felt so good that I don't really want to do without it anymore. Just tasting and smelling Christine's pussy was such a wonderful experience for me, one I could really become addicted to.

"You know, Patrick, just last night, thanks to you, I felt for the first time what's actually been becoming increasingly clear to me for months: that there has to be more to sex, so much more, that my husband never let me feel. Although I really need to stop calling him my husband. After all, the divorce has been finalized for almost six months now."

"Oh, well, congratulations on finally getting rid of him!" was the best thing I could think of to say at the time. "But what made you realize over the past few months that there has to be more to your sex life?"

"Well, you know, a while ago I stumbled across a website for erotic stories. Since then, I've been reading a story practically every night to fall asleep, and I've especially enjoyed the ones in the romance and first time category. Some of these stories have really moved me and opened my eyes to what I've always been missing in sex."

"Seriously, you read erotic novels?"

"Well, not exactly novels. More like erotic short stories. There are tons of them online on special sites where mostly amateur authors publish their stories. There are also authors who publish full-fledged novels with endless installments, but I haven't found one among them who understands how to build genuine erotic tension. Those feel more like a Rosamunde Pilcher novel, and I really don't need to subject myself to that. I much prefer the shorter, self-contained stories."

"That sounds really exciting. What kind of stories are they?"

"Oh, the range there is huge, as you can see from the different categories in which authors can publish their stories. With many of the stories, I get the impression they're aimed solely at lonely men who have a completely messed-up relationship with women and need this kind of reading material to jerk off to. The authors of these stories are anything but understanding of women. If they can't even think of a better word for a woman's sex than 'cunt,' I don't even bother reading any further. They're probably just venting their own frustrations because they can't get anywhere with women themselves. It's constantly about some horny sluts who'll give themselves to any Tom, Dick, or Harry like a three-hole mare and want to be impregnated."

"Give themselves what?"

"Three-hole mares. Don't you know the term?"

"Nope, never heard of it," I lied. Of course I knew the term from various porn clips on the internet, but I didn't necessarily have to rub it in Christine's face, did I?

"That's a particularly derogatory term for women whose three orifices men can use at will. In most of these wannabe authors' stories, these women are also completely submissive and sometimes can't imagine anything more exciting than swallowing gallons of cum. What I find worst of all are male writers who pass themselves off as women without having the slightest clue how we women think. Fortunately, there are also many authors who write about the women in their stories with great appreciation and respect, sometimes even with genuine affection and romance. It's all the more wonderful when they also know how to express themselves linguistically and don't just describe the sexual acts themselves, but also offer insights into the characters' thought processes and, ideally, wrap the whole thing up in a story that isn't solely about sex. Some manage to create a real cinematic experience in my mind with their stories."

"If I once happen to write down our story I'll certainly publish it in the romance category!"

"How about the first time category?"

"The first time category?"

"Well, it was your first time, right?"

"Well, yes. But wouldn't you be somewhat neglected if I only wrote the story from my perspective?"

"But no! Just because you're writing from your perspective doesn't mean I'm not in the story, does it?"

"Actually, that's no bad idea at all. Perhaps you could show me one of these stories sometime, so I can get some ideas on how to develop one."

"Maybe later. Let's have our coffee and breakfast first, before we go for a swim in the pool."

We both stayed seated on the floor and tucked into the breakfast Christine had prepared for us. The coffee was only lukewarm, but the fresh rolls with strawberry jam tasted delicious.

After she finished her coffee, Christine stretched out next to me, stood up, and offered me her hand. "Come on!" she said, and I gladly let her help me up from the floor, even though I could easily have managed it on my own. "Let's go for a swim!"

Christine bent down to pick up the breakfast tray from the floor, turning her back to me. When she turned back to me with the tray in her hand, she looked at me questioningly.

"Why are you grinning like that?"

"Well, how should I put this?" I dodged her question. "I was just thinking about the last lesson with Ms. Hochheimer."

"Okay? What was in that lesson?"

"The lesson was about back-friendly movement in everyday life. The way you just picked up that breakfast tray was a prime example of how not to do it. Namely, with a rounded back and straight legs. If you had picked up the tray properly, from a stance, or by squatting down, you wouldn't have given me such a great view of your pussy and your sexy ass."

Christine burst out laughing at my explanation. "Maybe you should talk to Ms. Hochheimer in the next class and make her understand that back-friendly movement can be pretty unsexy in some situations. After all, I deliberately bent over like that to pick up the tray because I knew exactly what kind of view I was giving you. And looking at your stiff cock now, it seems to prefer the less-than-back-friendly lifting technique as well."

I glanced down at myself and found confirmation of Christine's words. Like a diving board at a swimming pool, my cock stood out horizontally and bobbed slightly.

"Here you go, you little pervert. For getting so turned on by the sight of me bending over, you get to carry the breakfast tray downstairs."

Laughing, Christine pressed the tray into my hands. Because of its size, I had to hold it with both hands, so I couldn't stop her from grabbing my erect penis and dragging me along behind her toward the kitchen. Even on the spiral staircase, she wouldn't let go, making me feel like a dog on a leash. Of course, I enjoyed Christine's hand on my cock and wasn't at all bothered that she was thoroughly amused by my helplessness.

"Here, you can put the tray down," Christine said, indicating a free space on the gleaming granite countertop after she finally let go of me. Once I'd put the tray down, she pushed me toward a chair on the opposite side of the kitchen.

"Alright Patrick, sit down here and I'll show you how to load the dishwasher in a completely back-unfriendly way!"

I thought I was dreaming as she stood a good meter away from the countertop, legs spread wide, and opened the dishwasher door. She bent down deliberately slowly, keeping her knees straight, giving me a decidedly uninhibited view between her spread thighs. I thought my cock was going to burst any second as she repeated this movement with every single piece of dishware and cutlery until everything was cleared from the tray and loaded into the dishwasher.

After she had closed the dishwasher, Christine turned to me and slowly approached. My God, what an absolutely stunning body this woman had! I didn't know where to look first as she came closer and closer, her hips swaying. When she was finally right in front of me, she placed both hands on my shoulders and sat on my lap with her legs spread, so that my penis was bent upwards and trapped between us. Christine took her hands off my shoulders, braced herself behind her back on my thighs, and leaned back. She pressed her pelvis even closer to me, so that her labia were now rubbing against the underside of my manhood. I felt the warm moisture glistening on it and smelled her incomparable scent, which I could probably identify among a thousand women blindfolded.

After rubbing herself against me like that for quite a while, Christine came very close to me again, her erect nipples only millimeters from my chest, and looked deep into my eyes.

"Will you show it to me now, please?" she asked me in a gentle voice.

She must have noticed that I didn't quite understand her question, because I probably looked at her rather puzzled.

"Will you let me watch you masturbate, please?"

Aha, now it clicked in my brain, and I remembered the promise she had already brought up with me after Svenja had left the house with the twins.

"You mean I should jerk off right here and now?"

"Yes, right here and now! I want to watch you do it. You don't have to hold back at all. I want you to cum all over me!"

Impatiently, Christine grabbed my hand and guided it to my midsection. "Or would you rather use your other hand?"

"No, it's okay, I'm right-handed," I told her laughing, closing my fingers around my erection so that only the head was sticking out of my fist.

The moisture she had applied to me made my fingers glide effortlessly over my cock, which I now pumped up and down through my fist. It felt strange, somehow, that I was pleasuring myself when the air was already thick with desire and everything inside me was screaming for sex with Christine. There was something truly arousing about the undisguised curiosity with which Christine watched my hand as it powerfully moved up and down my cock, waiting for me to ejaculate onto her gorgeous body. It almost seemed as if it weren't my hand, but Christine's, that was jerking me off.

More and more pre-cum oozed from my urethra and ran down my glans, where it helped to lubricate my fingers even better. Fascinated, I watched as Christine gazed down, captivated, at the spectacle between our naked bodies. It was clear she could hardly wait for the moment of my ejaculation. After she had already provocatively teased me with her obscene bending over to the dishwasher, she certainly wouldn't have to wait very long for this either.

Christine must have noticed from my changing breathing that my orgasm wasn't that far away anymore.

"Yes, Patrick, come on! Cum all over me!" she urged me on.

That alone was enough to send me over the edge. The first spurt of my cum hit her under the chin, making her squeal with delight. She immediately leaned closer, so that my next spurt of semen hit her face. Two or three more jets sprayed onto her torso and spilled onto her left breast and stomach before the last one landed relatively weakly on my own hand.

"My God, that was amazing!" Christine exclaimed, while, to my surprise, she began to spread my semen evenly over her face, breasts, and stomach with both hands, as if it were sunscreen. After she had spread it all evenly, she took my hand, which still had a good amount of my fluid on it, and licked it clean with relish.

"Okay, let's go to the pool now!" she urged me, pulling me up from the chair with her semen-smeared hand and pulling me along behind her.

Once at the pool, she led me to one of the lounge chairs, adjusted its backrest, and positioned it so that it faced the sauna and the rain shower in front of it. Christina took a large sauna towel from a shelf built into the wall, spread it over the lounge chair, and smoothed it down.

"Come on, Patrick, sit down and make yourself comfortable! Now I want you to watch me pleasure myself. Do you like Andreas Vollenweider?"

"Andreas Vollenweider? Who's that? Do I have to know him?"

Christine laughed as she pressed a series of buttons next to the shelf and suddenly held a remote control in her hand, which she must have conjured from behind the towels. She pointed the remote over my head and pressed one of the buttons before letting it disappear back behind the towels.

"You don't have to, but you should. Listen carefully, you're about to meet him."

No sooner had she said this than the room suddenly filled with birdsong, seemingly coming from all directions at once. All at once, I could clearly hear a woman's laughter to my right, as if she were standing right next to me. The laughter ended as quickly as it had begun, before a magical melody, played on some instrument I couldn't identify, slowly rose to the forefront. My attempt to identify it, however, was thwarted by Christine, who had begun to move gracefully to the rhythm of the music, demanding my full attention. With swaying hips, she danced around me, repeatedly running her fingers over her body, which was covered in my semen, so that my ejaculate spread over ever larger areas of her bare skin. The way Christine moved before me resembled the grace of a belly dancer, except that Christine was completely naked.

The eroticism emanating from her graceful movements completely captivated me. Unable to move, I stared at her with wide eyes. The music continued playing, though I was now only subconsciously aware of it. I did notice the slow fade-out at the end of the first piece before the second began. Had the music been played again on another occasion, I probably wouldn't have recognized it, for Christine's presence completely absorbed me. I was only peripherally aware of the size of my erection, which had long since returned to full force. I watched in amazement as Christine spread my semen more and more over her torso and face the longer the music played.

Christine's dance followed the melody of the ethereal sounds perfectly, which seemed to fill every corner of the room and envelop Christine in a kind of weightlessness, so graceful were her fluid movements.

The moment the music swelled into an orchestral storm, Christine swung one leg over my lounge chair, so that she now stood with her back to me, her glistening, moist vulva almost directly above me. Instinctively, I reached out and placed my hands on her buttocks.

"Hands off, just watch!" she snapped with mock severity. "And don't you dare touch your cock, because it belongs to me!"

I nodded to confirm that I understood. I must have been staring at her with my tongue hanging out and drooling, because she seemed to be laughing at me before turning away again. The next moment, she leaned far forward, so that she could now see directly into my face between her spread thighs. The sight of her moist vulva brought beads of sweat to my forehead. Seeing her anus presented to me in this way also made my cock feel even harder.

"Not exactly back-friendly, but it seems to turn you on quite a bit, doesn't it?" Christine breathed between her spread thighs as she gripped her ankles with both hands before slowly stroking the inside of her thighs towards her vulva. She constantly swayed her hips to the music, as if it had been composed specifically for her serpentine movements.

My breath caught in my throat as Christine's fingers moved delicately between her inner and outer labia before nestling against her clitoris from both sides, stroking it slowly in a counter-movement. The longer her fingers continued this movement, the louder her moans blended with the music from the speakers, which must have been hidden somewhere invisibly in the ceiling and walls. The spectacle unfolding directly above me almost caused pain in my rock hard cock, which I desperately wanted to grab and release from its torment.

As the music swelled into an orchestral explosion, Christine moved her right hand between her legs and back, repeatedly stroking the cleft between her buttocks, spreading not only her own moisture but also my semen, which was still clinging to her hand. As if that weren't enough, she then began to make slow circles around her clitoris with her left index finger. I couldn't believe my eyes as I watched her right index finger simultaneously disappear into her vagina and her middle finger into her anus, only to reappear immediately, now beginning a steady, thrusting motion. Her fingers moved in perfect sync with the music, as did the finger of her left hand, which now moved much more wildly over her clitoris.

It wasn't long before I got the impression that Christine, too, seemed to have stopped noticing the music. Her fingers had long since found their own rhythm, which was at best synchronized with her own moans, but not with the music from the speakers. After only a few moments, Christine's moans ended in a cry of relief, while her lower body was seized by an uncontrolled spasm. I watched in amazement as clear fluid flowed from her vagina and ran down the inside of both thighs.

Still under the influence of her climax, Christine straightened her upper body and looked at me over her shoulder as she slowly bent her knees.

"Now it will be me who makes love to you very slowly and tenderly, just like you did to me yesterday. If you think you can't hold it back any longer, then just let it happen, but if you can hold it back, that would be even better," she whispered to me with a moan as she slowly impaled herself on my stiffly erect cock.

As if Christine wanted to give me the pleasure of seeing as much of our union as possible, she laid her torso flat on my legs. The view she presented to me was absolutely explicit, simply breathtaking! Like a close-up in a porn video, I could see exactly how my cock was slowly sucked into Christine's depths again and again before emerging, glistening wet. Goosebumps ran down my spine as I realized that I was one of the two main characters in this live performance. Oh, how I wished I had my smartphone in my hand to record a video from this perspective. But as it was, I would have to memorize everything to preserve the memory forever.

Since I was simply lying there motionless and amazed, instead of actively participating, Christine immediately noticed that my mind wasn't entirely on the matter. She therefore stopped what she was doing on top of me and turned to me.

"What is it, Patrick? What are you thinking about?"

"I'm not sure if I can tell you this. I'm kind of embarrassed!"

"You know, Patrick, when it comes to sex, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. So if anything's on your mind, just tell me. Please be so kind, okay?"

Christine gave me such a loving look that I simply couldn't keep my thoughts to myself. I noticed myself turning bright red again, but I managed to overcome my shyness.

"Well," I stammered somewhat sheepishly, "I was just thinking that the sight of my cock sliding inside you from this angle looks so incredibly hot that there should really a video been taken to preserve it forever."

"Hey Patrick, that's a brilliant idea! As long as you don't film my face, I wouldn't mind at all!"

"Are you sure? You really wouldn't mind?"

"No not at all! The thought that you might even be able to masturbate in twenty years while watching our shared porn video is actually incredibly arousing. Where's your phone?"

"It should be on top of the dresser in the guest room."

"Okay, honey, you promise to stay exactly like this, and I'll get it for you right away, okay?"

"I promise. With a view like this, you won't get me to leave anytime soon!" I replied with a laugh.

"Alright, and don't you dare touch that amazing cock of yours, got me?"

"No, I won't!"

"Will you promise me that?"

"I promise!"

Christine slowly stretched her legs again, freeing me from her moist embrace. Before she disappeared, she pressed a kiss to my forehead. Oh man, was that woman hot!

It took a little longer than expected for Christine to come back down the spiral staircase. In one hand she held my phone, in the other a glass containing a greenish-looking liquid.

"I brought you a smoothie. It boosts virility and tastes delicious."

Christine handed me the glass, which I emptied in one go. "It really does taste delicious, even though the color looks somewhat like a drowned corpse that's been floating in the lake for more than a week! What's it made of?"

"Well, as you correctly guessed, it's made of a drowned corpse that's been floating in the lake for more than a week! Just kidding," Christine laughed. "It contains guava, apple, coconut water, and blue spirulina. All sorts of healthy things that will definitely have a positive effect on your sperm quality," she laughed as she handed me my phone.

Almost automatically, I entered my code to unlock my phone. Seconds later, it was in video mode.

"Let me know when you're ready!"

"Okay, let's get started!"

I started recording as Christine climbed back on top of me and slowly squatted down. I initially cropped the image a bit to capture her backside with her beautiful curls. I slowly zoomed in to get a close-up of my cock as it nestled between Christine's labia. Hot! A split second later, Christine had already swallowed my erection, only to let it reappear moments later. Even hotter! I carefully moved closer to Christine, making sure the camera wasn't shaky. As hot as the close-up was, I zoomed out again because the video would be even hotter with Christine's ass fully in the frame. I thought I had recorded enough when Christine made her presence known.

"If you put your finger in my ass right now, you can feel your own cock fucking me in my tight, wet pussy," Christine whispered between two hearty moans!

Did she really just say that?

"Come on, Patrick, please let me feel your finger in my ass. I need it now!"

I zoomed in again until I had Christine's anus in close-up. It was so wet around her asshole that my finger slipped through the tight sphincter as if by itself, into the depths where a wide space opened up. "Oh dear, someone already lives here," I thought to myself as my fingertip met a well-formed, soft substance. Never mind, no big deal. After all, you have to expect things like this when you venture off the beaten path. So I didn't think about it any further and continued searching to see if there was anything else interesting to discover. And yes, because when I curled my finger slightly downwards, I could actually feel my cock moving slowly back and forth inside Christine's pelvis. Amazing!

"Oooh Patrick, yes-aah, that feels so good, the way you're moving your finger inside me!"

As great as it was to film the scene with my phone, the device in my hand made it hard for me to truly enjoy what was happening between Christine and me. So I zoomed out a little further until as much of Christine and me as possible was visible on the screen and let the recording run for another fifteen seconds before turning it off and putting it away."

Now I finally had my other hand free again, which I used to caress Christine's buttocks. Unfortunately, I couldn't reach much higher with my hand the way she was positioned on me, but it was still incredible to watch my cock being swallowed by Christine again and again before it resurfaced. The steady in and out motion of my cock in that tightly enveloping, moist canal felt simply incredible! To see this happening simultaneously, with Christine's labia holding me in their moist embrace, while I could feel the movement of my cock inside her rectum with my probing finger, was beyond anything I could have ever imagined!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

SVENJA:

Constantly switching between different classrooms was really stressful at times. So much for a 15-minute break! Just getting to the children's hospital took almost 15 minutes, especially when you had class with Ms. Kendling, who always let us out at the last minute. Now I'd better get going, otherwise I'll have to sit in the back row again in Dr. Peters' lecture hall. Oh God, here comes Frederike! What could she possibly want from me now?

"Hi Sven!"

"Hi Freddy, everything alright?"

"Yeah, so-so."

"Hmm."

Right now, I wasn't in the mood for a deep conversation with Frederike. I admit I didn't really like her. While she was generally easy to get along with, I didn't like her way of always trying to be the center of attention. In general, I didn't like girls who always had to be the center of attention.

"It was really cool how you made Ms. Kendling look foolish earlier."

"But it didn't do me any good!"

"Why, you didn't get any absence recorded."

"But now I've got this stupid PTP handout to deal with!"

"That's true, too. On the other hand, then it's over and done with."

"Why? What do you mean?"

"My cousin also ended her physiotherapy training here two years ago. I know from her that Ms. Kendling will eventually make each of us memorize one of her handouts. You only get a good grade if you recite the whole thing flawlessly. And if you get a bad grade from her, she'll tear you apart in the final exam!"

"Good to know, thanks for the warning!"

"How's Patrick doing, anyway? Is his head okay again?"

"Yeah, I think he's recovering quite well."

"So? Have you guys had sex yet?"

"Huh? What do you mean by that? Are you out of your mind?"

"Come on, don't be like that! After all, you've already given him a handjob, so fucking would be the logical next step, right?"

"Oh come on, leave me alone! You're completely nuts!"

"Well, if you don't want him, I'd take him in a heartbeat. He's a real cutie, and I really like his cock. Give him my very best regards!"

"You know what, Frederike? Why don't you just go to hell?"

To be continued!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The characters in the story in the order of their appearance:

- Patrick Lehmann - Physiotherapy student

- Dr. Rebecca Morgana - Lecturer in Anatomy, chief physician

- Frauke Hinrichs - Lecturer in massage techniques

- Brenda Vollmer - Physiotherapy student

- Claudia Miller - Physiotherapy student

- Saskia Wagenbauer - Physiotherapy student

- Petra Wendeling - Physiotherapy student

- Susanne Morhardt - Physiotherapy student

- Svenja Petersen - Physiotherapy student

- Maren Radeberger - Physiotherapy student

- Katja Striebenow . Physiotherapy student

- Daniela Meininger - Physiotherapy student

- Nora Weinheimer - Physiotherapy student

- Frederike Denneborg - Physiotherapy student

- Hedwig Gerber - Headmistress of the physiotherapy school

- Nadine Gutermuth - Physiotherapy student

- Leonie Enderle - Physiotherapy student

- Melanie Steinfurth - Physiotherapy student

- Barbara "Babsi" Hiebinger - Physiotherapy student

- Gabi Henkel - Physiotherapy student

- Petra Kelly - Lecturer in "PT Internal"

- Tabea Lauenberger - Physiotherapy student

- Inka Reinheimer - Physiotherapy student

- Angelika Lenz - Physiotherapy student

- Alexander Henninger, Svenja's boyfriend

- Dr. Rita Pistorius, doctor on duty in the surgical outpatient clinic

- Christine Petersen, Svenja's Mother

- Anna and Lisa Petersen, Svenjas four year old twin sisters

- Claudia Korban, kindergarten teacher of Anna and Lisa

- Gabi Welschmann, kindergarten teacher of Anna and Lisa

- Cordula Lehmann-Mackenroth, person who caused the accident

- Hilde Kendling, Lecturer for physiotherapy and head physiotherapist

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