snot-izzy

FROM SNOT TO IZZY

A very roundabout trip that I took to get to the uniqueness of certain things, including my name, Doctor Izzy Sommers, of all things.  This could easily be an oratorio or madrigal, if I were Handel or Mendelsohn, which I’m not.  I’m thinking it’s a little egoistical.  Sorry…

By Izzy Ess Of Single-Ness

Significant postnasal drip and sinus drainage is a trip for people who have sinusitis and are forever snorting and just sniffing to avoid just dripping on the table, eh?  All food is tasteless and so bland unless it’s over salted, over peppered, over bittered or just over sweetened.  Even sexual strong signals, ordinarily just sniffed as pheromones, from males or females, are completely blocked and having sex is far from being carried out.  Of course, if one indulges despite all the nasal turn-offs, the orgasm can clear your sinuses with the rush of pure adrenaline and hydrocortisone.  It’s the old adage, “Not tonight, dear, I have a headache!” which should be, according to the best statistics from the Montreal Neurological Institute, “Yes, my dear, tonight because I have a headache and sinusitis!”  Go figure, eh?  I vote to get off this small issue and try another one, the War in Syria.

It seems to me that USA and Russia are involved in deadly games, the one supporting rebels and the other, the incumbents.  Luckily, a more experienced Vladimir Putin, finessed Barack Hussein Obama by stepping in and publicly advising the President of Syria to stop his use of gas which causes mass destruction.  It would be quite ironic if the gas was bought from Russian agents, but the purchasing was never mentioned, to my knowledge.  With the temporary ceasing of hostilities, the Third World War was averted once again by someone who’s been reading history.  As you recall, the WWI was started by an assassination of Prince Ferdinand of Austria, in Sarajevo.  Austria declared a war on Bosnia and Russia, by a previous agreement, declared war on the Austro-Hungarian Empire.  Then all the countries of the world lined up to take a side and that was that, the start of WWI, the War to End All Wars.

During Christmas, 1914, the first year of the War, an event occurred which showed how ordinary soldiers were confused about who was fighting whom.  In a trench not far away from enemy trenches, German and some British soldiers joined each other with some rationed drinks and Christmas cookies to sing “Silent Night,” in German, “Schtille Nacht,” in English, together, while the rifles were left lying in the trenches.  This story, whether true or not, has oft been told.  No such incident was reported in the second year of fighting, nor thereafter, or before, in any other war in history, I believe.  The English and the Germans are historically closely linked, beginning, I believe, with the Anglo-Saxons who were ancient Brits from England and ancient Huns from Saxony, a Western Province of the country, Germany, adjacent to the English Channel, who got together in the past and made a culturally quite important population, the so-called Anglo-Saxons.

In 1066, in Hastings, England, the Conqueror, le Roi Guillaume de France, King William of France, did defeat the Anglo-Saxons and then started an infusion of French culture, language, religion and civility, which was more important than the German influence, apparently.  The language of the Anglo-Saxons changed to mainly French and the religious aspect of the Roman Catholics did prevail.  I believe this didn’t change dramatically until Henry VIII, in the sixteenth century, discarded Catholicism in favour of the Protestantism to allow himself to get divorces and thus marry several women in a quest for a male heir.  His version of Protestantism was thereafter called Anglican and hence, it became the Anglicanism, that is known today.  The daughters who inherited the throne of England were Mary, Queen of Scots, a staunch Catholic, and Elizabeth, who preferred her father’s Anglicanism and it persisted thereafter once her half-sister Mary, was apparently forced to give up the throne for Queen Elizabeth, then Queen Elizabeth the First, a talented bright woman who probably wrote both the King James Version of the English Bible and all the plays by William Shakespeare, a contemporary and an actor in the Globe.  Her talent was in poetry, important to the Bible and the Folios of William Shakespeare.  In those days, it was not nice for women to publish anything, including poetry, just because she was a woman.  It’s sad, but true.

The English then basically ruled the world and their language is now the predominant language of finance, an important aspect of any nation.  It could easily have been Spanish or Portuguese, were it not for the defeat of the Spanish Armadas by the British.  It could have been the Swiss-French, Patek-Philipe, who invented a portable time-piece which is essential for accurate navigation on the high seas.  It was the British who standardized the entire map of the world by drawing a line through Greenwich, England, and arbitrarily calling it zero longitude, made the equator zero latitude and the poles where are the lines of longitude converged at 90 degrees, latitude, both north and south.  This allowed a galleon with a clever navigator to “fix” the position of his ship with a watch and a sextant, an instrument allowing measurement of the angle of the sun to the earth.  He could then call out his position with so many degrees of latitude and so many degrees of longitude.  Recognized landmarks were, of course, important, but without them, the clock and sextant were essential.  More accurate maps followed and British Navigation and control of the Seas was established.

The Spaniards and Portuguese were not driven from the seas for a long time.  Spanish Galleons were important trading vessels for the Old and New Worlds, where Spanish Colonies abounded and needed galleons to transport things like sugar cane from Cortez’ ranch in Buena Vista, near Quirnevaca, Mexico, back to Europe to be sold.  In the opposite direction, European, Asian and African goods, transported to New Amsterdam and then New York for the American Colonists came in Spanish Galleons and traded with doubloons, gold doubloons, which could be cut in halves, quarters and eights.  Hence, the speculators in the harbours of New York bid on the value of the galleon’s contents in eights, a system which persisted until recently when it was converted to tenths and hundredths to be more easily handled by computers, on the world’s stock exchanges.

The British Empire based on British colonization of huge territories including Australia, New Zealand, India, South Africa, America and many smaller areas like Auckland and Hawaii, used English, of course, for most matters having to do with governance, trade and education.  That it still remains the main language of trade around the world is no wonderment.  Indeed, except for French, it is the primary and secondary languages of most of the world.  French is a hold-out for Korea and Viet Nam, I believe, since the French were the main colonizers of these areas for a significant length of time.  Spanish and Portuguese are still widely spoken in the New World, especially Central and South America.  In most big cities of North America, one can get around with Spanish just as easily as one can get around in English.  Chicago and New York are good examples.

I was fortunate to get to know a physician from Dominican Republic while I was staying in Denver, for two years.  He taught me how to swear in Spanish and how to read some important books in Spanish and Portuguese, including Ecu da Quiroz. O Crimo del Pardre Amaro, About the Sin of Father Love.  This book had been written at the risk of his life, by da Quiroz about the internal machinations of a young priest in Portugal trying to justify his looking for a mistress.  He quoted a deleted section of the New Testament indicating that Jesus had a girlfriend, Martha with the flaxen hair, with whom he sat on the hill, while stroking her golden hair.  It also quoted a deleted passage that indicated Jesus had an active family life with siblings that he loved.  Da Quiroz lived at the end of the rule of Roman Catholicism within his country which had imposed the Inquisition, forcing folks who were not Catholic to convert or be killed or exiled.  My associate was sure that his family was one of the Jewish families that had converted to Catholicism for their own safety, because his middle and last names had a Jewish sound.  In fact his middle name was the same as mine, Isaac, the English equivalent for Yitzchok, the Hebrew name for Isaac, the Jewish son of the patriarch, Abraham.  The registrar at the Catholic hospital at which I was born, in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada, who, apparently, refused to write Yitzchok and wrote instead my father’s suggestion, Izzy, the frequently used anglicised nickname of many Yitzchaks, Itzaks, Isaacs, Isidores, and Irvings.

Irving Berlin, Isaac Stern and Itzak Perlman where all Izzys to each other and called each other Izzy in public.  During a PBS production of the Three Violinists, Isaac Stern, Itzak Perlman and Pincus Zuckerman, they interviewed each other and called each other Izzy, Izzy and Pinky.  At a rehearsal of the Buffalo Philharmonic whose guest was Perlman, I approached the stage of the Kleinhans Orchestra Hall where Perlman and Joanne Falleta, the conductor, were relaxing.  I happened to catch the eye of Perlman and I waved and greeted him as Izzy.  He smiled and guessed my name by returning the greeting, “Hi Izzy.”  Maestro Joanne Falleta looked at me and asked. “Do you know him?”  I told her the story of Izzy, Izzy and Pinky and she laughed and thanked me for the story.

Later, I read some of Joanne Falleta’s rather poetic descriptions of her upcoming and original International Classical Guitar Competitions.  With very few changes except for a word or two, here and there, I converted her three paragraphs of prose to three sonnets, fairly easily, and sent an email with them, through her website, to her office in NYC.  She returned a very gracious email to me with two free tickets to her first round of competitions in Buffalo, which I enjoyed greatly.

I grew up in a non-Jewish neighbourhood in Hamilton, Ontario.  My fights were always due to my being taunted as a “Jesus Killer!” or a “Dirty Jew!”  I was not a fighter and I suffered many bloody noses before I ran for the protection of my home or classroom.  Luckily, my nose was never broken and is still in good shape except for recurrent sinusitis.  Also luckily, I was proud of my name, Izzy, which, for the neighbourhood was quite unusual and labelled me as a Jew.  In a Jewish neighbourhood, of course, it is quite common.  My kith and kin called me Irving and I was even registered as Irving in my school.  When I successfully made the basketball team in High School, I was required to get a birth certificate to prove my eligibility, mainly based on age.  To my surprise, my real name was “Izzy Sommers!”

I remember feeling a sense of pride in my unusual name.  In medical school, I stubbornly stuck with the name despite encouragement by many to change it before I graduated when it would be “engraved in stone,” as “Doctor Izzy Sommers.”  The uniqueness of this name was borne out many years later when I lived in Countryside, Illinois, USA.  I had had many changes of address and many changes in my life, when a very old friend called me at the office, in Countryside from her new address in Sante Fe, NM, USA.  I had seen her last at Michael Reese Hospital in Chicago, in 1967.  This was 1987.  The receptionist at the desk said her name, which I recognized immediately.  I asked her how she had found my phone number, knowing that my home number was unlisted.  She said that she had called information and they had connected her within 30 seconds because “there is only one Dr. Izzy Sommers, in the entire North American Telephone Directory!”

So there you have it, my dear reader.  From “snot” to “Izzy” in one easy lesson.  It must be time for

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

November 25, 2013

ADDENDUM

Since writing this essay, this morning, I heard an account, this afternoon, of the activity of German and English soldiers in the opposing trenches in the Christmases of 1914, 1915, 1916 and 1917.  The account was given by a man I met incidentally at Macdonald’s here on Niagara Street in Welland, where I had come to use the free internet to enter my blogs for the day.  He was reading an account of WWI concerning a native Canadian sniper and it was his grandfather who told him of his experience in WWI.  He related that the Germans and British stopped fighting each Christmas Eve for the rest of the war and put down their rifles to sing Carols and share food and drinks and play soccer.  He said the Generals on both sides were very upset.  He reminded me that the Germans were the main Monarchs of Britain and that there were many relatives of both sides that lived in the other country.  He said he knew of no other war in which this kind of thing had occurred, which matched my impression of history.  He was pretty sure it happened the first three years of WWI but was not sure of 1917.

I played chess with a German Ace Pilot of WWII in Kitchener-Waterloo, Ontario, which were the cities of New Berlin before WWII.  He said he was shot down over England and parachuted to safety.  He said he was captured and imprisoned and sent to a prison near Kitchener-Waterloo for the duration of WWII.  He said that he met a Canadian woman who later became his wife.  He said that he felt free to wander about Kitchener-Waterloo and talk to Canadians who would talk to him.  He told me that he was sent back to London after 1945 to stand trial and was found guilty of war crimes.  He said he was imprisoned there for a short period and then released and was allowed to travel back to Canada to meet his girlfriend.  He said he’d lived a happy life in Canada with his wife and family and enjoyed chess and education and a lucrative job repairing airplanes and being a test pilot.  He beat me at chess and was the most interesting person at the tournament.  He still had a slight German accent and we spoke in German without inhibition and he enjoyed the opportunity to do so.  He was not arrogant, at all.  I thought of him as a gentleman of high education, intelligence and culture.

love wish

A WISH FOR LOVE

A Dream For An Old Man

En Pentametre Iambique

By Izzy Ess Of Slow Finesse

I know a girl named Tinkerbelle, in town,

Who likes to wear an auburn evening gown;

She has a form like Venus of the brown

And wears a diamond in her silver crown.

She loves me and she shows her love above,

Beyond the serenades of her white dove;

Her arms encircle me and with a shove

She takes me to her breasts with ample love.

Perhaps she tires of my sharp wit and bite

And would endure a wrestling, pushing fight;

Perhaps she’d like a lover who takes flight

When she is finished for the Nether night.

Oh love me Venus, hold me very tight;

Oh love me when the there is a morning light!

I am transfixed when you are in my sight

And I hold you with all my body might!

Please Venus be a woman not a one

Who circles an old man for just the fun;

My every sinew is in tune or done

Or I am fallen into the old sun.

I’d like to be a god-like Mars for you

And give you Timbuktu and Xanadu;

I am but flesh and blood and feral goo

Because of loving, yearning only you.

Oh come down to my Earthly firmament

And lie with me in my own lonely tent;

Oh, do materialize before Lent

And find a way to pay my paltry rent!

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

November 25, 2013

heavenly angel

ANGEL OF THE LORDS

A Fictitious Tale Of Tail With Religious Implications And Angelic Therapies Which Would Make An Excellent Oratorio Or Madrigal Or Fairy Tale For Adults.  It Is Also An Exciting Entrepreneurial Adventure Never Told Before And Will Not Be Told Hereafter.  Perhaps A Person With Talent Could Make This Into An Oratorio, A Fairy Tale Or A Madrigal

By Izzy Ess Of No Finesse

Sir Sydney Effingham was in his chambers when a chambermaid approached him and she asked, “Is there something I can do for you before you do retire, tonight?  It’s getting late and I must prepare the rooms for sleeping for yourself and Lady Sophie Effingham.  Would you like another Brandy or cigar?  The Cubans have arrived by courier.”  Sir Sydney turned his eyes to gaze upon the lovely Guinevere Seville who just had turned but eighteen yesterday.  She had a body like a Venus and arms that would encircle a good man of breeding.  So, he said, “Perhaps I’ll try a little derriere, if you don’t mind.  Milady Sophie has enlarged her belly and her derriere beyond repair and I have not seen pretty derriere for thirty years!”

Our Guinevere did blush and did comply with her employer and her Lord.  She turned and showed Milord her derriere.  Milord pulled down her pantyhose and looked for moments at her perky derriere.  “Oh my!” he said.  “I confess, I have not seen a derriere as pretty as this one, for ages.  May I touch it, dear?”  Ms. Guinevere did blush but did not move.  She said, “You own me sir.  You may touch me or my derriere whenever you desire.  Do you desire to touch me on my derriere or elsewhere, my good sir?”

Sir Sidney grabbed his chest and fell upon the ground.  He had stopped breathing and his colour was not good.  Our Guinevere did scream for help and the Butler, Jeeves, came running.  He saw Sir Sidney dead upon the floor and started CPR.  Ms. Guinevere assisted him and started mouth to mouth resuscitation.  She laid him supine on the floor and straddled both his hips.  She had a rocking motion to her artificial respirations and she felt a pressure on her private parts.  She checked and found her derriere was bare; her pantyhose were still around her knees.  Sir Sydney’s manhood had become erect and was pressing firmly on her private parts.  She shrugged her shoulders and allowed his masthead to slip into her hot honeypot, which was quite lubricated from her previous activity and all went smoothly with the artificial respiration.  Sir Sydney came alive and Jeeves exclaimed, “You’ve done it Guinevere, my dear.  Keep doing what you’re doing and I think we’ve brought Sir Sydney back to life!”

So much excited was the younger woman that she became quite vigorous in her resuscitative movements and the more she rocked, the harder was her Lord’s great manhood.  She did scream aloud with sheer delight as he exploded into her and made a huge deposit of his salty semen.  She exploded, too and had a dozen spasms of delight.  The butler Jeeves was so excited he exploded, too, before he had a chance to drop his trousers.  Milady Effingham had entered and she saw her husband fornicating and exclaimed, “What do you think you’re doing, my dear Guinevere?  He is getting old and could expire!”  Jeeves did explain to her that he did indeed expire and was brought back to life by an angel who had acted quickly.  Milady was a little doubtful but she watched with awe as her old husband made another deep deposit and another one did follow!  Guinevere had dozens more explosions and was smiling broadly with delight.

Jeeves had popped the buttons of his fly and his big manhood pointed at Milady who knew exactly what to do.  She exposed her derriere and offered it to Jeeves, and he accepted, gratefully.  Milady bent to grasp her knees and Jeeves did ram his manhood deep inside of her own honeypot and then exploded with a grunt.  Milady Effingham was quite delighted and she had some spasms never had before.  She wished that she had tried this in the past but Jeeves had never seemed that interested in her quite enlarged old derriere.  A full half hour passed and pleasure did abound…

A sheepish look came over all the faces in the room as disengagement did occur.  Jeeves produced a moistened clothe and everyone cleaned up their juices, artfully.  The women pulled up their pantyhose and the men re-buttoned their own flies.  Jeeves remarked that he would get Sir Sydney to his room and Milady Effingham said she would tuck him in.  Our Guinevere was quite embarrassed by her shows of pleasure but our Jeeves did reassure her that she saved a life and should be proud.  He also mentioned that she would get bonuses from both the Lord and his rich Lady for her efforts.  A happy couple was tucked in and Jeeves and Guinevere retired to their own rooms.

The reputation of our Guinevere spread throughout the manor and through the Shire of Effingham.  Some Lords from other Shires dropped by to grasp their chests and feign huge heart attacks and were rewarded by the lovely Guinevere with rocking motions that had gladdened them and apparently resuscitated them.  Ms. Guinevere and Jeeves received huge bonuses from all the gentlemen who were quite wealthy and quite generous.  Some wealthy Lairds did travel from the cities Edinburgh and London, Dublin and Manchester and knew exactly what to do.  They clutched their chests and fell supine upon the ground.  Jeeves would fish out their manhoods and Guinevere would bare her derriere.  Milady Effingham would often catch our Jeeves and get him to get into her own honeypot, from in front or from the rear and help him with his healthy manhood.  Milady was quite grateful and slipped our Jeeves some coins of gold and silver for his efforts which she thought was wonderful.  Our Guinevere was always smiling broadly and enjoying her appointed role as Angel of the Lords.

The King of England visited one day with an exciting entourage of Lords and Ladies of the Realm.  A treasure pot was brought by all who were assigned to rooms in the huge manor by Milady Effingham.  She made all the schedules and arranged for visits to each room, as many times as were required to “save” the life of every Lord and satisfy each Lady, simultaneously.

Jeeves contrived to satisfy the Ladies and our Guinevere did her Angelic Act for every Lord.  Milady got her jollies from the Butlers of the Realm who seemed to relish her fat derriere.  A full month was required to “save” the King on three occasions and his Lords and Ladies at least once.  The King of England and the Queen did highly recommend the Angel to just every King and Queen of Europe, Asia and of Africa.  At least a dozen entourages were treated through that year and the coffers of Milady Effingham did bulge with gold and silver coins.  She was the proud host of the entourages and she contrived to meet with Jeeves on each and every night of her long life.

Milord Effingham, in fact, did die quietly in his sleep one night and no seemed to care.  Buried surreptitiously in the Manor gardens, he just “disappeared” while Milady took the reins of the whole manor.  Jeeves moved in to her old room with her and lived his life out happily.  The Manor managed brilliantly by Milady, thrived tremendously.  Milady did promote her Guinevere to Lady of the Chapel and dressed her like a Priestess.  Guinevere did love her new garbs and she did her Act of Saving Lives with grand sophistication and great expertise.  She loved her black silk priestess robe and wore no underwear.  Her body was more beautiful than ever as her breasts were lifted up and out and her belly was quite flat.  Her derriere was powdered by Milady and remained quite silky and quite perky.

Jeeves also loved the derriere of Guinevere and on evenings when there were no Kings or Lords to “save,” the three conspirators would gather naked in Milady’s room and diddle with each other.  Jeeves was thrilled to be inside his Guinevere while Milady was so thrilled with his intentions.  But, she saved her great big derriere for a big treat for Jeeves who had his way with her in each and every way, upwards, downwards, sideways and as many ways as possible.  Guinevere would watch and did applaud her Jeeves for his great creativity and Milady’s wonderful compliances.  Milady’s breasts were pendulous and oh so huge.  Our Jeeves could lose his manhood in her breasts or in her derriere and still be satisfied, completely.  Sometimes Guinevere would do a Dance of Salome or a song and dance of Miriam and excite the both of them.  She loved to see the manhood of her Jeeves jump out at her and so did Lady Effingham.

After many years, Milady Effingham died peacefully while sleeping.  Jeeves revered her and did bless her soul and hope she went to Heaven.  Guinevere and Jeeves lived past 80, each and died within a week of each other, happily and at good peace.  They enjoyed each other’s private parts right up until they couldn’t do it anymore without some breathlessness.  The others in the Manor did ensure that they were buried side-by-side with Milady Effingham and Milord, himself.  An alabaster marble statue of the young Ms. Guinevere with angel’s wings, was soon commissioned and it still stands proudly in the grotto in the garden where they all are buried.

THE END

AMEN AND HALLELUJAH!

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

November 25, 2013

sam and lav

LAVERN & SAMUEL

A Fictitious Tale Of Tail Wherein The Fitness Is The Thing.  Two Folks That Fit Together Smoothly And Efficiently Are Special And Find Each Other With Some Strange Machinations And Acting Moves.  An Oratorio, Movie Script, Novella, Madrigal And Campfire Song Would Be A Consequence For Both Adults And Adults That Act Like Children, Or Even Teenagers.

By izzy ess of happiness and fitness

Professor Samuel O’Bryan was a maniac about his women.  He insisted they are dress like priestesses before he would make love to them.  When he was married, he had lots of trouble with the sex because he couldn’t get it up unless his bride got dressed in chambermaid’s black lacy costumes with no underwear.  His marriage lasted only three short months and dissolved without dispute from either one of them.  No fuss, no bother, was his attitude.  He’d had a myriad of girlfriends because he was quite wealthy and an eligible bachelor with a lot of dough he had inherited from his old man who was an engineer and had invented several gadgets for flat television sets.  Our Samuel was fast approaching middle age and still insisted on peculiar costumes, eh?  A friend suggested prostitutes.  “Oh, what the Hell?” he said.  “I have the money and a marriage might just cost me more.  I’ll call an agency for escorts, eh?”

Lavern Anne Steinberger was a high class hooker and had been around the block an hundred times.  When the agency did call on her to go to the Professor, she was told to expect some costume changes that she’d done before for wealthy clients, see?  She was instructed to become a priestess and she did comply and upped her charges to completely cover her expenses for a black robe with a cape and hood of mediaeval style.  She was completely nude beneath her hooded silken robe.  She thought Professor Samuel was cute and felt she would enjoy herself because he was quite muscular and fit and guessed he worked out regularly, which was pleasing to her eyes.  Her fees were steep.  She charged two thousand for initial hours and a thousand for each one thereafter.  The Professor paid in cash up front for twelve whole hours.

The trouble was that he was impotent unless his partner did her act exactly right.  Lavern was quite intelligent and street-wise and she acted well and kept her face quite serious in keeping up with Samuel and his obsessions, eh?  Instructions were quite clear: “Approach me as a stern self-righteous priest who wants me to confess my sins completely!” Samuel had said.  “Just after I confess, I want you to reveal your physicality and ask me to completely service you with oral sex and never use your honeypot to tempt me.  Got it?”  “Yes, Professor Samuel.  I get it.  Are you ready for me?”  Samuel had nodded meekly and it all began.

Lavern had gone to Samuel’s big office, downtown, on Edwards Avenue, right next to Banks of Switzerland and London’s Harrow’s Haberdashery.  She kept an attitude of sternness on her face, beneath her hood.  She said quite sternly, “Oh, get up you stupid man when I am entering your presence, see?  Do not sit down unless I say so, eh?”  She jumped on his big desk and talked down to Samuel.  “Get on your knees and look the other way.  Confess your sins, you infidel!  Confess them now or I will curse you and you will surely go to Hell!  Remove your clothes and throw them out the window!  Now!”

Our Samuel was trembling as he took off his clothes and threw them out the window and got back down on his knees and faced away from his paid Priestess, eh?  His manhood was quite limp and tiny, like a man in a cold bath.  Lavern barked out, “Confess you stupid Infidel!  Confess!  Or go to Hell!”  “Forgive me Mother, I have sinned!” he started in.  “Forgive me!  I have looked upon a student with a figure of an angel and I did scorn her beauty and her figure with a curse-ed tongue.  I told her she was ugly and quite unworthy of a man’s attention and she started in to cry.  I slapped her face and sent her to a convent to repent!  She screamed and then I laughed, my Mother.  And, I marked her down when she was brilliant and resourceful and failed her in my class for Sociology.”

Lavern barked out, “You infidel!  You have sinned against all other women of this world.  You are a sinner and you must obey my strict instructions to be saved.”  Samuel was trembling as he asked, “What must I do, my Holy Mother?  Please guide me to my salvation.”  Our Lavern turned and she lifted up her robe revealing a quite perky derriere and said, “Stand up and kiss my derriere and do it with sincerity!  I want to feel your lips and feel they are sincere in their great adoration of my derriere.  Now!  Do it now, you filthy sinner!”  Samuel stood up and put his lips upon her perky derriere and kissed it very tenderly.  He felt a stirring in his groin but dared not look.  Lavern barked out.  “You are not quite sincere enough!  Now kiss my ass and lick my anus like you mean it, eh?  Now!  Do it now!”  Our Samuel grasped both her knees and pressed his head between her buns and kissed her anus with his lips and tongue.  He felt another stirring in his groin but was afraid to check his manhood.

Ms. Lavern continued.  “Samuel, I want sincerity.  Now get your tongue inside my anus and do push it in as far as you can go!  Do it now!  And, I want to feel sincerity you are repenting!  Now do it and make me feel as if you mean it!”  Samuel complied and got his strong tongue right in her anus and pushed it in and out as if to stimulate her.  Ms. Lavern felt great sincerity and said.  “That’s good, my infidel, I feel sincerity.  Continue for a full five minutes ‘til I say to stop.”  Our Samuel had grown a huge erection that he dared not check.  Lavern was pleased at his response.  She felt a pleasant shiver pass through her own groin and then up to her brain, but she resisted telling him.  She watched his penis throbbing and was sure she was doing a good job, just earning all her cash.  She waited five whole minutes.  Then she barked, “Oh, stop you infidel!  I’m giving you an opportunity to just repent completely.  Turn around and face the other way and think about your lustful sin!  And shut your eyes!”

Lavern got off the desk and went to the big sofa chair.  She lifted up her black silk hooded robe and bared her derriere while lying on the sofa and presenting her pert derriere.  She barked at Samuel, “Now open wide your eyes and get a look at my sweet anus.  Come to me and push your manhood deep inside my anus and act as if you are persuading me you are repentant by just pushing in and out with gentle rhythms.  Are you clear about what I have told you, Samuel?”  “Oh, yes my Holy Mother.  I am clear.  Please let me show you my sincerity is obvious.”  Our Samuel complied with our Lavern’s instructions and he shoved his manhood into her so very deeply.  With a rhythm that was pleasing to Lavern, he did what she had asked and was surprised at his great big erection, eh?  He pumped and pumped and then he did explode.  Lavern felt very satisfied and suppressed her squealing to maintain the seriousness of her attitude.

Professor Samuel did feel that he had done something very wrong and asked forgiveness, once again.  Lavern was stern and said, “I do forgive you Samuel but I will give you one more chance.  This time I don’t want you to explode but do withhold your big ejaculation ‘til I say it is OK!  Now, do begin again with your own rhythmic pumping and do grip my derriere with your strong hands and feel sincere about repenting.  Feel sincere!”  Our Samuel was surprised at his strong manhood but did not feel comfortable and didn’t mention it.  Lavern was stern and did not say anything while he re-started.  He did follow all instructions quite exactly as Lavern had given them and he was able to withhold ejaculation for a full half hour.

Lavern was cool and acted sternly all the while.  Samuel was silent and obedient and did a yeoman’s job.  At a full half hour, Lavern barked out, “Now, my infidel!  Now!  Let your sins come out in force.  Let your semen go right now!  Don’t keep me waiting.  I want to feel sincerity!”  Samuel exploded and he screamed with painful pleasure.  Ms. Lavern stayed cool and did appear to be quite stern.  She hoarsely said, “I felt sincerity, my infidel.  I feel you have repented.”  Samuel was pleased and felt exhausted and he just fainted there and then.  Lavern just smiled and felt quite satisfied that she had done what was required to get this Samuel to do her bidding and enjoy himself.  For after all, he had already paid her a small fortune.

Ms. Lavern relaxed and smoked a small cigar that had the flavour of good rum.  She pulled her robe down to cover up her private parts and went to sit in his big swivel chair to wait for Samuel to awake.  She found a robe for him in his own closet and she threw it over him.  He slept for a full hour while she listened to the radio on a station that played Classical.  She smoked another cigarillo and relaxed.  Samuel was paying her a lot of dough to watch him sleep.  She felt no guilt.  This was a special case and she found it interesting.  She had been creative and enjoyed her work this evening and was looking forward to what might happen later.  She admitted to herself that she had experienced some pleasure that was unexpectedly quite nice.

Samuel awoke and felt refreshed and in a wonderful great mood for more confessions.  Pictures of his great big penis flashed before his eyes and he did realize it was the first time in a very long time that he was able to perform.  It was perhaps the first time ever that he felt so satisfied about his sexuality.  He felt that the small fortune that he had paid was really worth his while and thanked his friend, quite silently, for suggesting it.

A psychoanalyst might say he’d had a minor “breakthrough.”  Perhaps, he might say, it was a major one.

Our Samuel felt eager now, but our Lavern had planned stage two and barked, “Wipe that smile right off your face, you dirty little sinner, lest I feel you’re not sincere!  Now, confess!  I want to hear your greatest sin.  I want to hear about your mother, the one that gave you life.  I want to hear about your mother and what you did to her to feel superior.  Confess!  Confess you snake, you Lucifer!  Confess!”  Lavern looked stern and threatening.  She stood up straight and looked him in the eye.

Samuel stuttered once again and did confess.  “I told her she was fat and ugly and did not deserve to have a handsome son, like me.  I lied and told her that her milk was sour and that her breasts were pendulous.  I told her that she didn’t keep her shape because my dad had left her much because she was so ugly, and I told her that another man was never to be found and that she’d die completely all alone and never will make love again because no man would find her quite attractive.  She cried and I yelled out, before I left, that she was so unworthy of me and that she would die without me.  I told her that I hated her.”  Samuel had started crying and he bawled.  “I confess my Holy Mother.  I confess that I did lie and tell my mother she was ugly and unworthy of a perfect son.”  “You are the unworthy son if your beautiful mother who is ashamed of you, I’m sure.  Now, get on your knees and pray!”  Lavern was stern and kept her eye on Samuel’s small penis.  She asked, “Are you prepared to meet your maker now?”  Samuel just hung his head in shame.  “What can I do, my Holy Mother?  What can I do to do repentance?  Please have mercy, Holy Mother.  Please don’t smite me here and now.”

Lavern had thought this through.  She stood up and she lifted up her hooded cape and said, “Samuel, you dog, you are not worthy of her own mother.  You are not worthy of a wealthy life.  You are not worthy of continued life.  Your mother should have driven a big stake right through your heart!”  Lavern had purposefully exposed her lower lips to Samuel.  “Now, you infidel, I want sincerity.  I want you to feel these lower lips of mine and not have feelings for them.  I want you to use your fingers to check out my tiny penis and not consider sex at all.  Do you understand, you dog?”  “Yes, I understand, my Holy Mother.  You want me to repent by my sincere appreciation of a woman’s lower lips and tiny penis without a single thought of sex.  Oh, Holy Mother, you are wise and bountiful.  Please let me fondle you without a single thought of sex.  Oh, please.”

Lavern did brace herself for this experience and said, “Now Samuel, I want your fingers to express sincerity.  I want them to feel everything without your getting full of sexual thoughts or feelings.  Now, do it with sincerity!”  Samuel was on his knees and praying.  He reached so cautiously for the pretty private parts of his paid priestess and he gently fondled her.  He felt a stirring in his groin but didn’t want to look.  Lavern could see that he was growing a big and throbbing masthead which must be dealt with.  She suddenly reached down and grabbed his super hard erection and she pinched it hard.  Samuel did scream and screamed, “I’m sorry Holy Mother.  What can I do?”  Lavern was clever and she turned to show her Samuel her perky derriere.  She said, “Now put your nose against my anus and reach around with both your arms and try again to outline my lower lips and tiny wee-wee with your fingers, OK?  Now be sincere and you will be saved from Hell.  Otherwise I may be forced to smite you here and now for the awful sins that you committed on your mother!  She gave you life and you did give her grief.  She nourished you and saw you thrive and you took her pride away and left her for demise.  Now, sincerity.  I want to feel sincerity and not a bit of sex, unless I give you my permission!  Understand?  Now, do it Samuel!  Do it now!”

Samuel walked on his knees and put his nose up the pretty ass of his paid priestess.  Then he reached around and found her lower lips and hard clitoris and he started feeling them so gently with his fingers.  He was right on the button with his fingers and he felt a stirring in his groin.  He didn’t dare to look to see if he was getting turned on but Lavern could smile and watch his manhood grow to huge proportions and begin to throb.  Samuel continued feeling up Lavern so gently and sincerely.  Lavern was lubricating wildly.

Lavern had planned this out exactly right.  She slowly bent her knees and lowered her cute derriere until our Samuel’s great manhood slid right up her honeypot.  She instructed Samuel to clench his eyes so tightly shut and look right up to Heaven.  She successfully got Samuel’s hot throbbing manhood deep within her honeypot and asked him to start praying for redemption.  Samuel did lift his arms to pray while our Lavern was very much excited by her clever movements.  She slowly started moving up and down upon his shaft and felt a dozen waves of pleasure in her body, before she dared to speak.  “Samuel,” she asked.  “Do you feel saved?”  Samuel hoarsely whispered, “Yes, my Holy Mother.  I feel wonderful.”  “Do you feel ready to release your soul to me?” she whispered.  “Yes, your Holiness.  I am ready, if you give the word.”  “OK, now, my infidel, you may now release you soul to me.  I’m ready to receive your physical confession and your great sincerity for your redemption.  Now!  Samuel.  Now give it all to me.  Now!”

Samuel exploded as he felt his spirits rise to Heaven for redemption.  Lavern could feel it too and had a wonderful wave of pleasure go right through her supple body and reach all the toes and fingers of her being.  It was wonderful.  Samuel could not see that she was smiling broadly and she couldn’t see that he was smiling, too.  In fact, they both were glowing, radiating love in all directions, especially to the deepest parts of both of them.  For several minutes there was silence as the feelings of our Heavens did suffuse them both.

“I feel wonderful,” said Samuel.  “I feel very good, myself, my little infidel.  Will you be ready to confess again in a few moments?”  “Yes,” said Samuel.  “I will be ready and quite willing to confess again in several moments, my Holiest of Mothers.  Would you like to share a cigarillo and a brandy?”  “Why, yes, my darling infidel, I surely would.”  They disengaged and Lavern went for her cigarillos and our Samuel retrieved his Brandy with two snifters.

Happy couples like these two misfits, Lavern and Samuel, just fit together like a glove and they engage and disengage quite often through the night and through the day even after money runs out on the first engagement for eleven hours of fun and games.  No psychoanalyst was needed to declare that our Lavern and Samuel were meant to be together like a match that’s made in Heaven, or in Hell, or in someone’s office.  This couple delighted in their spirits, their mentality and their great physicality, forever, and forever, like the fairy tales.  This tale of tail is ended with a couplet, so

When keys are not the ones that fit the locks,

Don’t blame the couple, it’s the effin’ flocks!

Or

The best laid schemes of mice and men are fine,

But happiness is when he is all mine!

Or

The perfect fit may be a common hoe,

But once you find her, never let her go!

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

November 26, 2013

whazza?

WHAT GIVES?

I Have No Effin’ Clue!

By Izzy Ess Of

Underhanded-Ness

The Games That Nations Play are sometimes obvious, and sometimes not.  On the radio, just now, I heard that US bombers crossed the special air space of the Chinese and huge objections were then filed.  As far as I know, there is no war that does require a US bomber, full of bombs, to cross the air space of a foreign, sovereign nation, wall-to-wall with people.  I’m also guessing that the bombs are nuclear and even H-bombs which could destroy a hundred thousand people instantly and affect the health and welfare of a million more, eventually.  What gives, America?  What gives in China, the hugest nation in the world, except for India?  Surely, this is classic brinksmanship and war games of the most obvious in the world.  Sure!  Provoke a nation of bright, industrious billions and see what happens on a Tuesday afternoon in Canada?  Who is kidding whom?  Spying is now commonplace, as everyone anticipates that everyone will spy on everyone, friend or foe, or kith and kin, since the heady days of Hoover and of Nixon.  But sending unannounced huge bombers full of deadly bombs over people’s heads in daytime is ridiculous and fraught with mass destructive consequences, eh?

Shall I keep silent and just wait and see what gives?  It’s not part of my own personality to wait and see what gives ‘twixt nations that can blow each other up with just a push of a small button, at a distance.  It is reminiscent of the allegorical bold story of our King David who could wield a slingshot with a stone and kill a warrior at some distance and cause the downfall of a nation, enemies or not.  Goliath was a giant when compared to David, a figure that may be unreal in history, but he was only four foot four and his opponent, a Goliath, was perhaps, a five foot five and thus a giant Philistine, or was it a Norwegian on a holiday from the North Polar region to the sunny shores of North Africa, the Sinai Desert, who happened to be wearing his heavy helmet on his head and left his forehead open to a missile flung at him by a small, swarthy, curly-headed native on the beach?  I guess we’ll never know for sure but that was many years ago before recorded history was accurate and was mainly sung in parables and poetry, accompanied by women playing tambourines while dancing.

Today, our history is written and recorded by those pin-point pictures from the satellites which can pick out a small cockroach at some 200 miles above the Earth.  There are so many questions and so few responses that make sense.  Where were the B52 bombers flying?  Why were they loaded with big banging bombs?  Which idiot did send them?  Which button pushing autocrat will start complete destruction of the Earth?  Why weren’t simple drones sent there, instead?  Are border skirmishes and genocide, annihilation and the grabbing of some territories, next?  Is this about disputes concerning Chinese arguments with old Japan about some Islands in the Sea?  What gives, I ask, rhetorically, eh?

I have no choice, except to say, this is my essay’s termination, see?

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Wetland, Kanata

November 26th, 2013

teenage itch

THE TEENAGE ITCH

A Fictitious Tale Of Tail And

Homecoming, For The Ages

By Izzy Ess Of Teenage Happiness

Amanda Amadeus Wolfgang had a yen for teenage boys and often wandered through the gates of high schools looking to hook up with a tall football player for the night.  Amanda had loved football heroes since her days at Grover High, when she led all her teenage girlfriends in the side-line cheers at football games.  Her winning quarterback was always good for feelings up in the boy’s locker room and shower, afterwards.  Often, she did shower with the team and would get some pleasure from the linemen or the running backs, before the quarterback could get to her.  She loved it way back when and loved it now at 42 when she was manager of A&W right down the road from Grover High School’s Stadium.  She did look young in her cute pony-tail and poodle-skirt.  Her breasts were still uplifted and her derriere was still quite perky.

This cool evening, Samuel Ben Solomon, the high school quarterback when she was young, had driven in to A&W to get a root beer and a burger and some fries.  Amanda spotted him from her high office and ran out to serve him and to greet him.  She and he had often dallied after games to get good feelings of each other.  Amanda recognized she felt elated and she greeted him with sexiness just dripping from her body.  Sam just frowned and dug into his food and drink.  Amanda asked him if he wanted company and he said, “Yes, of course, Amanda.  Why don’t you join me in my car and we can share this food and root beer just like those old days in high school when we almost did the Dirty Dancing on the floor of my old Chevy, eh?”

Amanda, still in roller skates, did jump right into Sam’s new Chevy and ripped her panties off, inviting Sam to have a feeling of her nice private parts.  Sam declined and looked so sad, he almost cried.  Amanda was alarmed and asked, “What gives, my balding Jewish friend?  Is someone dying?”  “Worse!” said Sam.  “I couldn’t get it up for my own wife on Christmas Eve when I was dressed like Santa Claus and she was dressed like Santa’s sexy Elf!”  Sam did start bawling and Samantha reached for his bald head and put his face into her naked lap.  Sam did respond and licked her lower lips, deliciously, with mustard and some relish on his tongue.  Amanda squealed with sheer delight and reached over to unzip his fly.  She fished out a large limp penis and began to rub it like Aladdin’s Lamp.  It did respond and soon was large and throbbing and was starting in to dripping, just a little, eh?  Amanda took it in her mouth and licked the salty stuff right up with mustard and some ketchup she had scarfed from Sam’s own tray.

Sam exploded in her throat and she began to lubricate quite wildly.  Sam just lapped it up with relish and enthusiasm and Amanda squealed with pleasure.  The friendly couple moved into the big back seat of Sam’s new Chevy and proceeded fornicating furiously.

The other waitresses did call the local Firemen who hosed the naked couple thoroughly until they disengaged and ran for cover into the small office of Amanda, high atop the restaurant.  The old friends got back to fornicating furiously and continued through the night and day and into the next week of the New Year’s celebrations.

They broke for breakfast January seventeenth and Sam went home to find his wife had left him with the mortgage and their teenage children.  Sam rang up Amanda and she came over to give comfort to her Sam and both his taller teenage boys who needed lessons on how to fornicate.  By February fifteenth, both the boys, our Romulus and Remus, were the experts and they taught Amanda and her Samuel about the modern benefits of oral sex.  By the Ides of March, they were a team of effin’ lovers who did not let up ‘til graduation on the last of June.  Our Romulus and Remus rammed their massive manhoods into our Amanda, driving her berserk, and left the house to find some greener pastures in the Wilds of Western Canada.

Sam became the football coach and brought Amanda teams of teenage players for her pleasures.  Amanda brought her Sam some cheerleaders for edification and their education.  Sometimes they entertained the entire football team and cheerleading squad for a whole week in their small home just down the road from Grover High.

The End

© izzy sommers, md

Wetland, Kanata

November 26, 2013

lesbian hanky panky

THE LESBO CHRONICLES

In Which An Adventurous

Young Woman Seeks

Happiness In The Arms

Of Other Women, Eh?

By Izzy Ess Of Elliot Ness

Belinda Stewart was engaged.  Her fiancée was Annabel, the stewardess on East-Jet flights to Phoenix, the red-eye flight at midnight, on the Ides of May.  Belinda was impressed by Annabel’s tight uniform which didn’t Arizona, from Chicago, Illinois, USA.  They’d met aboard hide her statuesque great figure.  They lingered in the bathroom and they joined the mile-high club!  In Phoenix, they stayed in the grand hotel, D’hôtel Grande, adjacent to the airport, Johnson Aeroport d’Arizona.  That first night, ms. Annabel, laid over in Ms. Belinda’s penthouse suite and discovered the great meaning of “Une Affaire D’amour Et De Sex,” a novelette by Renée du Boise of old Marseilles.  Belinda and her new friend, Annabel, ripped off each other’s clothes and spent the night entwined and interdigitated, just deeply feeling all the other’s private parts and drinking deeply of hot juices, ‘til their thirst was slaked and sheer exhaustion interrupted.

Early in the morning, the naked women kissed and parted, Belinda off to Johnson Aeroport and Annabel on schedule to visit her ex-husband just outside of Phoenix in the town of Wickenburg, a dude ranch town.  Annabel had to pick up her Hertz car rental by just running through the Aeroport and vaulting over seats, a great procedure recommended by the Avis Company of Rentals, in order to compete for Number One.  She drove her station wagon north to Wickenburg and found the Cowboy West Boutique, where Clarence was employed.  She surprised him with a female customer inside a dressing room, just fornicating wildly, wearing nothing but a set of spurs.  She waited patiently but then decided to participate and found herself a set of spurs, got naked and engaged the female customer before she had a chance to extricate herself from her ex-husband, Clarence.  Clarence, ever-ready to get into everything, just stood aside and watched his ex completely floor his customer.  So then, he lay atop his wife and shoved his masthead deep inside of her before she could object.  He left a small deposit of his semen and then he disengaged.  Our Annabel was busily involved with Lilly’s honeypot and managed to excite herself and this new Lilly with her busy fingers.  Both Lilly and our Annabel were moaning loudly so that Clarence had to get involved again by jumping in between them and getting his great manhood into Lilly’s mouth, while he stopped his Annabel’s loud moaning with his big right hand.  Lilly licked his manhood and received a nice deposit of some salty semen in her throat for swallowing.

It turned out Lilly was at liberty to spend a lot of time with Clarence, inasmuch as Lilly’s husband was taking lots of liberties with the Jezebel that lived next door to them in Tucumcari in New Mexico in the United States of America.  Eventually, she would have to face the facts and get divorced or separated and be liberated, altogether, eh?  In the meantime, she thought that some preliminary sampling of the naked bodies out there in the world was warranted.  So far, she’d sampled twenty-four in the month of March and she was feeling fine.  Her feelings were enhanced by both this Clarence and his ex, this Annabel, who sure knew how to please a woman.  She vacillated in between them and chose to go with Annabel, if she would take her back to Tucumcari.  Otherwise, she’d have to rent a car or take a bus.  Annabel was propositioned by this Lilly and did accept an offer of companionship from Wickenburg to Tucumcari in her rented Hertz big Ford Station Wagon, Country Squire, quite big enough to sleep in and to picnic in.

Annabel met Clarence at a café-bistro, Cowboy Heaven, for a tête-a-tête, with Lilly as a witness, eh?  They’d had a childless, loveless marriage and they needed a new settlement to separate and just divorce.  Clarence held out for the silver candlesticks and Annabel just settled for the golden statuettes of Marilyn Monroe in nudity.  They split the golden coloured spaniels, the male for Annabel and the female for her horny Clarence.  They did agree to make some love in sentimental style for old time’s sake and did it in the Cowboy Heaven while her new friend, Lilly, helped a lot to cover up and also to join in the sexual activity.  They disengaged with friendly smiles, both clutching copies of their new agreements, signed and duly witnessed by the eyes of Lilly and her sexy signature.

Ms. Annabel took off with Lilly and headed west to Tucumcari.  They made good time, stopping only for some sex and hamburgers at intervals of about an hour.  Lilly really liked her chauffeur and Annabel was wondering if she could switch to Lilly from her love, the lovely one, Belinda Stewart, stewardess.  By the time they got to Phoenix, Annabel and Lilly were in love and did express it frequenter than every half an hour.  By the time they got to Tucumcari, Lilly and her new love, Annabel, had proposed that they get married, just as soon as possible.  In Tucumcari, Lilly did confront her husband, Jonathan, and found him in the loving arms of Jezebel, underneath their antique kitchenette.  Jezebel was miffed.  Jonathan was stunned by Lilly’s uppercut.  Jezebel did scream and cuddled Jonathan until he did recover and could fondle Jezebel, anew.  Annabel tried out her right and mighty uppercut on Jezebel and knocked her out.  Our Jonathan just lay her supine on the floor and brought her back to consciousness by pressing his great manhood deep within her honeypot.  Jezebel awoke and screamed again and Jonathan just shut her up with his big manhood in her throat.  Jezebel was pleasantly surprised and did her duty, dutifully, getting her just just reward and loving it.

Our Lilly forced her husband to agree to separation and divorce and settled for the bigger half of all their properties, including their big townhouse next to Jezebel’s big townhouse.  Jonathan moved next door in a minute and Annabel moved in with her new lover, Lilly of the Valley of The Driest Gulch in old New Mexico.  Belinda wondered where she was but never did discover her new fiancée had moved to Tucumcari to make a lovely, loving household with another woman lover.

Now, my dear readers, I could string this out and get someone for Jezebel and Clarence that would complicate the simple picture, but I do believe this is

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

November 27, 2013

georgia on my mind

GEORGIA

GENEROUS

An Account Of The Fictional Events Leading Up To The Success And Failures Of A Beautiful Anatomy Professor Who Gave Completely And Came To A Tragic End Through No Fault Of Her Own Except For Her Stubborn Insistence On The Truth Of Her Anatomy, Especially By The Jewish Christian Muslim God of Envy, Fear, Anger, Lust, Gluttony, Greed and Coveting

By Izzy Ess Of Statuesque

Female Watchfulness

Professor Georgia Generous was statuesque.  She loved to lecture her own students of anatomy by showing off her landmarks as she talked about the anatomical great features that made a woman be a woman, eh?  For example, just the other day, she was lecturing about the lymph node drainage of the female breasts and took her lab coat off and her see-through blouse and showed the students where the lymph nodes were and from where they drained the breast.  She offered any students the great opportunity to come up to the stage and palpate for her lymph nodes and the breast tissue that it drained.  She showed off her magnificently uplifted breasts for all the males to see and just admire and for all the lesbians to drool about.  All the female students yawned and checked the tissues and the nodes of their own private breasts underneath their private opaque blouses.  And, of course, they found it stimulating to be fondling their own breasts, just like Georgia found it stimulating to have guys and lesbos fondle her great breasts.  Her nipples would get very hard and pointy and her breasts would swell and lift up even more than they were uplifted in the past.  When the bells did signal class was over, a sigh of disappointment would be heard as stimulated men and lesbians would have to leave the statuesque Professor Generous and watch her cover up her breasts with professional attire.

The word was spread around the University, and around the town of Cambridge, Massachusetts.  All the classes of Professor Generous were swollen to the walls and ceilings with over eight hundred students and professors, janitors and passers-by, who came to see Professor Georgia’s great anatomy and have a chance to feel her stuff up on the stage.  The week that featured the anatomy of private parts had lines of students, mainly men and lesbians, around the block just waiting for a chance to feel her up.  The alerted media, television and the newspapers sent reporters and photographers.  Georgia’s private parts were published locally and picked up by the wire services for national and international full publication.  “Gorgeous Georgia!” pictures did go viral on the internet because of cell phone photograph’s transmitted in the social media.  The Professor caused some trembling in the University Administration, when she allowed her students to try out her inner private parts with their own private parts.  Both men and women students were allowed to do this up on stage in front of everyone!

Professor Georgia was called up on the carpet and called upon to explain her actions to the top administrators at the University.  Doctors, nurses and the janitors were treated to a show of shows as Georgia flashed her private parts and did allow administrators to try out their private parts on her.  She entertained and pleasured all who wanted their own personal and up-close investigations of her bold activities.  Of course, she was just summarily plain discharged off the staff of the Medical Department of the University.  Within a day, she was enlisted by the television media and put on show’s like Dr. Oz’ and Dr. Phil’s for world-wide distribution of her class techniques for breast and private female part anatomy and what the functionality was all about.  The shows received more daytime Emmys than they’d ever had before.

Cable networks picked it up and Professor Georgia was paid top dollar to begin her series, “Gorgeous Georgia’s Functional Anatomy for Dummies” show.  It was a hit and all the sponsors were enthusiastic.  Billions viewed the shows and the sponsors made a bundle from the sale of life-like bobble heads with the anatomy of the Professor Georgia Generous.

God in Heaven asked his friend, our Thor, to strike them all with lightning bolts.  Unfortunately, Georgia was struck down and burnt to an unrecognizable small crisp where her anatomy was just a pile of cinders.  Her likeness in some bobble heads are now the most expensively and heavily traded on the internet; per ounce, its value does exceed both gold and platinum.  Amen and Hallelujah!  This is

THE END

© izzy sommers, md., Wetland, Kanata, November 27, 2013