{ASSM} The Physics Lesson MF, humor
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Subject: {ASSM} The Physics Lesson MF, humor
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NOTICE: This story contains descriptions of sexual activity that should not
be read by anyone under the age of 18. Although it also deals with the
science of fluid mechanics, a comprehensive understanding of this field is
not necessary to either understand or appreciate the story. I am grateful
to participants on the ASSD news group (and in particular See-El) whose
discussion of synonyms for “Come” was the inspiration for this story. The
story is humbly dedicated to the late William Gaddis, who I am sure would
find some humor in its words. Any comments that the gentle reader has
should be directed to me at:
My lawyer wants me to advise all readers that this story is copyright under
17 USC Section 102. Permission is given to download a single copy of this
story for the purpose of reading it off line. Permission is also granted to
archive the text in its entirety on any non-profit web site. Any other
distribution including posting of this story to a commercial web site
without the author’s permission is strictly prohibited.
The Physics Lesson
By Allison George (c) 1999
- Jenn, I’m glad you’re back! I’ve been sitting here for two hours staring
at these equations, and can’t make heads or tails out of the fluid mechanics
assignment. Pressure, viscosity, heat transfer, flow rates; it’s just too
confusing for me. I’ve gone over Professor Kean’s notes and they don’t
really help that much. Can you spare some time to sit down and clue me in?
-Kate, don’t be such a blonde. Why you’re always clueless has long been a
mystery to me. This stuff’s not that tough when you visualize what’s going
on. Let me put these things in the fridge and I’ll be right there. Do you
want something to drink?
-Yeah, bring me over a diet Coke. Did you pick up anything to eat when you
were out?
-I brought back a bag of chips just for you. Here you go, why don’t you
crack it open?
-Thanks. Maybe this will help get me out of this funk. But then again
maybe not; PMS, salt and soda, this should really be a recipe for success
today.
-Stop with the whining already! You’re 20 years old, though sometimes I
really wonder about that. Another monthly will start tomorrow and you’ll
start hitting the pads. Let’s get down to business and see if we can stuff
some physics into that addled brain of yours. Now I know what your favorite
dessert is, and I just want you to begin to visualize it.
-O.K. It was just like last Wednesday, I see myself sitting in an elegant
restaurant, a glass of chardonnay in my hand…
-Kate, stop with the scene setting! With your fantasies we’ll be at this
into the night. Focus on the dessert.
-Jenn, it’s not a fantasy, but you’ve got to let me slide into the role.
Cut me some slack.
-All right, all right.
-Like I was saying, I’m sitting at the table sipping a glass of wine.
John, who as you know is really hot, was sitting across from me looking into
my eyes with only one thing on his mind. Like I can always sense this
about guys because they usually start to unconsciously lick their lips and
their eyes begin to glaze over. Well, I looked right back at him and told
him in no uncertain terms that he looked as though he was about to shoot a
load in his pants. I told him that despite the fact that I would be
flattered by such a response, it would be a total gross out if he had a huge
wet spot when he got up from the table. Furthermore, there’ll be plenty of
time for bedroom sports and his just desserts after dinner, but that I want
mine here and now. His face flushed crimson with embarrassment but at least
he quit with the lip wetting, which was beginning to turn into a steady
drool.
-Wow, like real girl power!
-Yeah, you’re sure right about that! Anyway, it was at this point that the
waiter wheeled over a small trolley to prepare my hot fudge sundae. Two
scoops of what must have been flash frozen vanilla ice cream were already in
a stunning cut crystal Baccarat cup. The fudge was in a small chafing dish
heated by a low Sterno flame. The waiter carefully ladled a spoon full of
hot fudge over the top scoop of ice cream, the fudge flowing down and all
around. He then added a second spoon full and asked what topping I wanted.
I told him that raspberries in fresh syrup would be nice, but that he could
hold the whipped cream since I only like it on more private desserts. As I
winked at John, I told the waiter that I also didn’t want a cherry either
because it lost its meaning to me a long time ago. Well his face again took
on a rose cast. It was pretty clear that he’d been getting a little hot and
bothered and couldn’t find this whole scene the least bit humorous.
-God Kate, where do these trolls come from? If they can’t enjoy a little
good-natured fun during an evening out, why should we provide any
extra-curricular activities afterwards? I mean, really, it sounds like this
guy was a real loser.
-No, not really, but I’ll get to that in a bit. Anyway, I watched the
fudge drip from the spoon to the ice cream, coating the scoops as it flowed
down, forming a smooth ring in the bottom of the cup. The waiter carefully
spooned the raspberries and sauce over the top and placed the crystal cup in
front of me. He set a sterling silver dessert spoon on the side and told
me, enjoy. He turned to John and asked whether he wanted any dessert and
got only a quick no thanks, just a cup of cappuccino. I guess John wanted
to be awake enough to drive me home. Anyway, I turned my attention to the
sundae, which looked absolutely scrumptious.
-O.K., O.K., before you start to tell me about how fantastic the textures
of the chocolate, ice cream, and raspberries are, consider what you were
looking at while the waiter prepared the sundae. He was actually helping
you to understand the flow properties of a non-ideal fluid, in this case the
hot fudge, that were altered by both the shape and temperature of the
surface it came into contact with. This is
a more complex problem than a simple fluid flowing through a tube.
-Yeah, I know. Bernoulli’s equation is easy and I can really relate to
that. In fact, I have a good example ….
-I bet you do! But, more to the point, these problems are not difficult to
solve. All you have to do is a vector analysis of the forces on the fluid,
which in the case of the hot fudge are initially gravitational as the fudge
leaves the spoon. You need to simplify things and assume it travels in a
constant stream hitting the top scoop of the ice cream in a uniform manner.
If you take the scoop to be a perfect sphere you can quickly do the vector
analysis. The next component we need to be concerned with is the heat
transfer factor. Again, this is easy assuming a uniform distribution and
constant flux of heat from the hot fudge to the ice cream. That transfer
will affect the viscosity of the border layer of hot fudge, slowing down its
flow. However, that’s negligible for our purposes because there is a
constant flow of hot fudge over the top of the ice cream. Thus, the net
flow rate will be uniform, and simply equal to the flow vector which is the
product of the gravitational vector and the spherical surface adjustment!
-Great, now I can calculate the vector flow! If I had a calculator with me
the other night I could have done all these figures while the ice cream,
fudge, and raspberries melted into a gloppy mess. Sometimes I don’t get you
Jenn, you want to make everything so clinical, looking for the perfect
explanation when it’s like really not necessary. You know, some things can
just be enjoyed for their own sake, like a hot fudge sundae, without
thinking of sines, cosines, and vector analysis. Don’t get me wrong, I can
better see how to deal with fluids in a non-ideal environment, but we’re not
likely to get those kinds of questions on the exam. Most of the stuff deals
with the flow rates of fluids in pipes and heat exchange values. I may be a
blonde, but those kinds of problems are relatively easy for me to deal with.
My visualization works every time!
-Well Kate, I’m stunned to hear such a firm pronouncement! The last time
you had a vision, it involved doing some unnatural things with thin
vegetables…
-Come on Jenn, that was an art project and of course you remember who got
the highest grade in the class.
-Only because the teacher liked weird collages.
-Don’t be getting jealous on me. It’s not been often that I’ve one-upped
you.
-All right Kate, you have my humble apologies. I just get a little jealous
sometimes seeing how you have all the luck with men. They’re always fawning
all over you. I guess it is true that blondes have more fun.
-From jealousy to self-pity, lighten up! You’re really pretty too. It
sometimes takes guys a little longer to discover that brunettes can be among
the best things in life. After all, you’re the one who’s going around bad
mouthing all of them, calling them dweebs and worse. What do you expect of
them? Anyway, do you want to hear how I visualize Bernoulli’s equation or
not?
-O.K., but let me get another drink, how about you, Coke or a beer this
go-round?
-Make it a beer. This day has been a total waste to now; I might as well
lay waste to the rest of it. Thanks.
-Let’s hear how you solve fluid flow problems.
-O.K. Settle back because this is a really neat way of attacking the
problem. As you’ll see there is still one aspect of this that I haven’t
quite figured out. Maybe you can help me out on it. It’s kind of the
unfinished question that we’ll get to at the end. Anyway, as I was saying I
turned my attention to the hot fudge sundae…
-We’re back to last Wednesday night?
-Of course silly! You’ve been so tied up with some research project that
you’re in the library almost 24 hours a day. Here it is Saturday and I’m
just getting the chance to tell what happened the other day. Now that we’ve
turned this into a science project maybe you’ll listen up. Anyway, I looked
at John, licking my lips with a couple of quick tongue swipes as I
contemplated the sundae in front of me. By this time the waiter had brought
John his cappuccino and he was taking idle sips, wishing that he was
somewhere else, and I know the somewhere else that we wanted to be! Well
let me tell you, the first spoonful of the sundae was just heaven. To me
there is no sensation like the smooth warm feeling of the hot fudge sliding
onto my tongue. That initial charge of chocolate gives way to the creamy
coolness of the vanilla ice cream. I like to take really small spoonfuls so
that the taste slowly envelops my mouth, the flavors mingling, each sending
their own unique transmission to my brain. Oh God, just the memory of this
and my panties get a little damp out of the sheer ecstasy of thinking about
a well-made sundae.
-That and a lot of other things seem to get you wet and hot! I mean
really, a hot fudge sundae?
-Hot fudge sundaes and I have a long lustful history, but that’s a story
for another time. Anyway, I could see that John was really getting
impatient with me and I was starting to think about what was coming up; you
know the anticipation of it all. I was almost finished and twirled my index
finger around the lip of the cup, picking up the remains of some
chocolate-raspberry sauce and held out to him to lick off. Well, he sure
took that cue and with a quick suck, took the finger into his mouth. His
tongue curled around my finger, and that did it for me, dessert was over! I
told him that he could call for the check anytime he was ready, that I was
finished; I just needed to go to the girls’ room and freshen up, which I
really needed to do. The combination of the sundae and glow in John’s eyes
had made me considerably more than moist, you know that kind of squiggly
feeling you get. Well, the last thing I wanted now was to go outside and
feel the rush of air turning that nice warm wet feeling into a damp chill.
Of course I also wanted get ready for what was coming up; the double
entendre is, of course, intentional. Anyway, I slipped into the stall to
take of my panties and try to dry myself off as much as possible. I wasn’t
wearing a bra that evening, just that nice camisole under the charcoal
sweater, so the upper part of me was already primed. There was no point in
putting the panties back on they were too wet; besides, I figured that he
would be more than a little surprised later when his finger search revealed
an unguarded golden triangle.
-God Kate, sometimes I really wonder about you!
-Come on Jenn, get a life. Like you’ve never done anything like this?
Sometimes you get as horny as I do. Why just last month you told me that
when you met Bill for drinks after the lab….
-All right Kate, point well taken! It’s just that it always seems that you
’re the one doing these things.
-Not really, last Wednesday was the first time I’ve been laid in four
weeks! You know we’re really two healthy young women and we have needs that
need to be fulfilled.
-O.K., O.K. So continue the story.
-Well, I got myself reasonably dried off, enough so I could make it to the
car without feeling too uncomfortable. You remember it did get a little
cool that evening. Anyway, I sashayed out of the ladies, which was across
the restaurant from the table where we were sitting. I thought it might be
nice to give the rest of the patrons something to think about in bed that
night so I walked my best walk, you know like a model, one foot crossing
slightly over the other so that my ass was bouncing nicely as I strolled.
My boobs had a nice tight little jiggle, supported only lightly by the
camisole and the clingy sweater. You have to remember that Wednesday night
is pretty much of an older crowd, being a school night and all. Well, as
you might imagine the heads of all these middle-aged gray hairs suddenly
stopped staring at their wives and gazed kinda awestruck at me as I walked
down the path between the tables. There were probably ten wet dreams later
that night as a result of my walk and the monstrous headaches their wives
pleaded when they got home! Anyway, I felt that I really had to capitalize
on this situation. John had already picked up our coats and was standing by
the table. So I walked over to him, and in a semi-loud voice, thanked him
for dinner. I moved close to him as though I was going to give him a quick
peck of thanks, but instead I planted my lips firmly on his and with a quick
suck pulled his tongue into my mouth for a swirlie. Well, as you might
imagine he pulled away, turning three shades of carmine as he realized that
everyone in the restaurant was staring at us! Anyway, he couldn’t get me
out of there fast enough. As we walked out the maitre d’ wished us a good
evening and I do believe that he winked at John.
-Oh God, that must have been hilarious!
-Yeah, I was really kind of pleased about how everyone looked at me.
Nothing like a little crowd reinforcement to boost a girl’s ego! Anyway we
headed on back to his place. I told him as we got in the car that he’d
better drive slowly, that there was plenty of time left for other things. I
mean the last thing I wanted was to be in some kind of car accident because
some hot pants guy is going sixty in a twenty-five zone just because he
wants to dip his swollen dick in my honey pot.
-Pretty prudent of you Kate!
Yeah, yeah. Well, as you might imagine when we finally were in the door he
took me in his arms and couldn’t get enough of my tongue as we kissed. I
said that we might be a little more comfortable on the couch, we can move
into the bedroom a little later but that I wanted to make out some first. I
always like to sustain the build up and see how wet I can get the guy. I
know how I’m going to end up; you know we’re always the ones whose panties
and skirts end up getting soaked, turnabout’s fair play. I figure if I have
to get my wool skirt dry-cleaned, he should have a cleaning bill to pay too!
-Hah! Kate you’re a little more subtle than I’ve given you credit for!
-Anyway we moved over to the couch where we really started kissing up a
storm. His hand moved over my boobs tweaking the nips. You know how it is
when you’ve got a real soft smooth fabric against your nipples creating the
lightest of friction. Of course this only inflamed my kissing more. I had
my hands around his neck pulling him as close to me as I could. Boy, were
our tongues dueling. He moved his hand down to my knees, trying to spread
my legs apart and move up the thighly pathway to my pussy. I wasn’t quite
ready to let him into the valley of surprise so I pushed the hand away while
kissing him even harder. I did, however, slide my hand over to his crotch
and was pleased to feel a rather sizable warm wet spot on his trousers. I
thought I might as well give him a real good story to tell the dry cleaner
so I began to stroke his cock pretty hard, making sure that the wool soaked
up as much of his love stuff as possible. After I was satisfied that his
pants were nice and wet I gently took his hand and placed it back on my
knee.
-God Kate, you’re starting to get me wet!
-Glad to hear you’ve got some passion in that computer you call a brain
Jenn! Well, I still had my knees pretty firmly together; I wanted his
finger in me stirring the juices but he needed to work for it. He was
massaging my boobs pretty nicely so I started giving him soft damp love
pecks all over his face and moved to give him a warm air rush in his ear.
After the air rush I stuck my tongue in and that really got to him. He
became more insistent about getting my thighs apart so I figured what the
heck, I was so hot that now’s as good a time as any to move on to the next
stage. I squirmed against him, letting my thighs part, welcoming the soft
stroking of his hand. One thing I’ll give John credit for is that he is
patient. Most guys go straight for the target trying to get fingers in like
there’s some hidden button that will turn me to jelly. Well of course there
is a button, and of course I’ll turn to jelly; but if they know what’s good
for them patience will be rewarded ten-fold. John does this thing with his
fingers, lightly massaging my thighs and using his fingernails lightly on
the skin. By this time I could feel my own juices seeping out, leaving nice
fluid coat ready for his hand. As you might imagine he chuckled when his
hand discovered my unclothed cunt. He said something like, ‘I see you’re
ready for action.’ I only moaned in response as he slid his hand up to my
nirvana and cupped the slit with his open palm, rubbing along the length of
it and massaging the oils that had already saturated the opening over the
top of my thighs all the while kissing me with increased heat. Well, I was
still actively rubbing his cock, feeling a strong pulse whose beat seemed to
increase with each stroke. I could feel the nice juicy spot on his trousers
growing larger and was wondering at this point whether he was going to shoot
off before I had a chance to receive it. I whispered in his ear that I
thought it was time that we get out of our clothes and adjourn to the
bedroom where we could get more comfortable.
-Oooh Kate, this sounds simply delicious!
-Yeah, that’s what I was thinking at the time, but as you’ll see in just a
moment things were about to change.
-Do tell!
-Well, we untangled ourselves pretty quickly. As I got up I already was
pulling my sweater and camisole off. On the way to the bedroom I managed to
unzip my skirt and let it fall to the floor leaving me only in stockings.
John had shed his shirt and pulled the covers off the bed. He was about to
take his pants off when I stopped him and said that I wanted the pleasure of
conducting the final unveiling. He laughed at that, and standing at the
side of the bed told me to go ahead and take him. I went over and knelt
down in front of him. As I undid his belt I gave his cock a kiss though the
fabric of his pants, savoring the dusky smell that the evening’s discharge
had imparted. As I reached for the zipper with my right hand I gave his
balls a tender squeeze and heard a soft moan escape from his lips.
-Kind of like an oh…….?
-Yeah, that’s it. Anyway, I finished with the zipper and let his pants fall
to the floor. His cock was straining to escape his boxers and I was
certainly ready to see it in all its glory. Well by this time I was damn
well finished with the prelude and ready for act one, so I gave the boxers a
quick tug, pulling them down and giving him a quick push down on the bed. I
saw him lying there with his cock standing up waiting for something to
envelop it. Of course this was what I was looking for as well, being the
enveloper. I was trying to figure out whether I should do a little
sucky-sucky first or go straight for the main action. It looked like he was
so primed that things weren’t going to last too long and by this time I
wanted something in my pussy! He was lying there looking at me with that
weird look in his eyes that’s only there when a guy is about to come. I
told him to think control, we had the night; but I wanted it to start with a
bang for me and not a whimper.
-Nice pun, how clever!
-Thanks! Anyway I was still looking hungrily at his inflamed cock when it
came to me.
-I though you were supposed to come after it went inside!
-No silly, Bernoulli’s law.
-WHAT?
-Yes, Bernoulli’s law. Don’t you remember earlier that day in class? Kean
was going over the every-day applications, and how we could use the equation
to solve practical problems. Well, I saw this tube sticking up with a
primed plunger of viscous love fluid at one end and me, whose cockpocket is
the empty receptacle waiting to be filled. Now I thought to myself, I can
measure the length of the tube; I can probably measure the density of John’s
come, though I’ll have to collect a second sample to get an accurate reading
since it couldn’t be contaminated with my own love juice. Now I would have
to approximate the cross sectional area of the discharge tube and try to get
a handle on the exerted pressure, but I’m kinda wondering about how to
calculate the pressure differential between the opening of his glans and my
cockpocket. I was thinking this is a really big problem, that there were
too many variables here; you know he’s inside me and there’s probably some
type of vacuum created that varies with his stroke, plus how do I take into
account whether I come when he does? I don’t know about you; but if I’m
really primed, my O’s are pretty strong. There must be an effect of my
pubic muscle spasms. That’s the one thing I don’t think I can figure out.
I mean sure I can do some contractions with some kind of pressure gauge
stuck inside me, but I’m sure that this won’t come anywhere close to how
strong it is in real life. Plus the timing’s so variable, I mean I’m not
about to hold a stopwatch and measure the length of our comes, and that
assumes we even hit at the same time which, given his condition at the time
is certainly no guarantee.
-OH GOD KATE, I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M LISTENING TO THIS!!!
-GOTCHA!!! Get on Jenn, I really had you going on that one. Do you really
think that I’m about to stop and ponder the vagaries of physics when I have
a perfectly good hard-on staring up at me?
-Kate, Kate, with you I never know what’s going to happen. Anyway, you’ve
managed to get me so hot that I’m soaked all through my panties and sweats.
You better finish this story PDQ before I need to go get my vibrator to
finish things up.
-O.K., clamp down on it and stop oozing, I’m almost at the end! Anyway, I’m
standing there trying to decide between cowgirl and missionary. I figured
that because John is pretty lean and flexible, missionary might be the best
choice. Besides some guys feel a little to submissive if I go cowgirl first
off, so I told him to move over and let me have some room on the bed, which
is what he did. Well I figured that this cookie isn’t gonna last more than
a couple of minutes; which, incidentally, was about as long as I was going
to hold out. So I told him that I wanted him to slide up when he got in so
that I would get enough friction on my love nubbin to get off. Well I
scrunched a pillow under my head and spread wide so that he could see the
honey flowing. That did it for him, he rolled right over on top of me and
without my even having to guide him to the target, he hit dead center and
thrust right in. I grabbed his ass cheeks, adjusting him up a little more
so I could get more pressure. Well, I’ll tell you this was just pure bliss,
he sure knew how to stroke it. Anyway, the pressure was enough and pretty
soon we were both at the big O. He pumped his love juice into me at the
same time I started my come. I could feel the warm delightful mixture of
comes beginning to form, but the realization hit me that it wouldn’t be long
before it flowed out again, and cooled, soaking into the sheets. My quim
was only the temporary rest stop for a future wet spot. This sudden insight
led to the inexorable question – why the wet spot, and what’s the physics
behind it?
-Kate, I give up! Your blondness has overpowered me. We’ll have to take
this one up tomorrow.
--
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