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Two hands are better than one

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I was eating pot noodles and pouring over my lecture notes when the phone rang. It was Joanne, one of my classmates.

"Stuart," she said, "I really need a massive favour."

I saw in my mind's eye Joanne, topless, her large breasts looking ripe and juicy.

"I've got this essay to finish tonight and I'm stuck on the conclusion. Can you help me?"

She was a mature student in her mid 20s, a single mother of limited intellectual abilities who had somehow found herself on one of the best faculties in England. What Joanne lacked academically she more than compensated by her girlish charm, kindness and easy going manner.

She had a small round face, childish almost babylike smiling little mouth and shoulder length brown hair which she often kept in a pony tail. Her little brown eyes had a kind of innocent joy in them whenever she was amused.

I was just twenty at the time and I did rather like her, as a person certainly, and I also had a strong sexual attraction to her feminine body. It was difficult for me to keep my eyes off her anatomy when she was in view and she was my chief masturbation fantasy at that time.

When I arrived Joanne gave me a warm welcome and took me directly into her lounge. It was nine-thirty in the evening. "So have you started your conclusion?" I asked.

"Shhhh!" she whispered. "I've just got Sarah off to bed. Read this while I make a cuppa."

I glanced through Joanne's essay with some dismay as it looked to me like a very poorly worked first draft and there were copious errors.

She was soon back and sat next to me on the sofa. Two mugs of tea and a plate of custard creams were on a small coffee table at our knees.

"What do you think?" asked Joanne with a hopeful roll of her eyes.

"It's good," I lied. "You just need a punchy conclusion to draw all your main points together."

We began to work out a conclusion on a large piece of paper but I kept losing my thoughts as Joanne was wearing a thin pink t-shirt and I could see her nipples bursting out.

"So where do I put the bit about Jakobson's critque of Levi-Strauss not being convincing?" asked Joanne.

"Sorry? What?" I was losing my concentration and not even hiding the fact. "When did I say that?"

"Stuart! Five minutes ago. What is wrong with you?"

A few minutes later she caught me looking at her breasts when she thought I was reading a paragraph of her essay and hit me lightly on the arm. 

"Stuart! Stop looking there!"

"Sorry," I said. "Let me go through this."

"I've got to get this in by noon tomorrow. Please, Stuart, do concentrate." She went to put on a jumper but my mind was a mess and my eyes wandered.

After another five minutes Joanne put aside her essay and sat up looking annoyed then took off the jumper and her shirt! "Well," she said with a shake of her head. "Does that satisfy your curiosity? Now please let's get on with this!"

Her breasts were even more beautiful than I had imagined. They stood very well and were rounded voluptuously. The nipples were long and looked so erotic.

"My god Joanne," I said.

"You!" said Joanne shaking her head and smiling. "We'll never get this finished."

"What are you doing?" I said as she put her hand in between my legs and touched my hard penis.

"Oh christ."

Joanne got down on her knees and unzipped me where I sat. Her hand went inside and gripped my cock confidently. I threw my head back and felt her pull down on my foreskin.

"Oh my god Joanne. Joanne! Ah. Oh."

I was very inexperienced in those days and I often thought a gentle breeze would give me a hard on so Joanne's little hand jerking me up and down could only result in a very rapid climax. I took one last look at her gorgeous tits just before the spurting began.

"Shhh!" said Joanne. "You'll wake Sarah!"

My back arched and my legs stretched out to the full. My cock was protruding out through my flies and Joanne was working out the cum with both hands. I grunted and gasped until I was well and truly milked out.

Afterwards she cleaned up with some baby wipes.

"I don't know. A lot of fuss over nothing. Now let's work at last," she said.

"Joanne," I said weakly.

I finished her conclusion and tidied up her essay after that. We had a cup of tea at around three in the morning and I went to kiss her but she rebuffed me.

"Go home Stuart!" she said with a big yawn and kissed me on the cheek like a friend. "Thanks darling, I really appreciate it."

She shut the door in my face before I could reply and the first thing I did when I got back to my flat was check to see when Joanne's next essay deadline would be.

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