What Do You Do When Your Brother's Wife Will Do Absolutely Anything To Pass College Algebra?

I would have liked to help my assistant, Tommy "Two Times" Johnson, with this problem before he actually tried to handle it himself. I think things would have gone a little better for him and his family. With Tommy's permission, I'm gonna share his story, so that perhaps, in the future, you'll know better how to handle this situation.

As a Doctor of Psychology, with an extensive practice, I must often utilize assistants from time to time. I have three assistants; Wally Mammoth, Tommy Johnson, and Connie Cryer, and all of which are students and/or teacher's assistants at the university. By the way, I also teach at the university from time to time. But like I said, my practice is quite extensive, and now, to go along with that, I've also started working on my first published work, that of which, you are reading right now.

Tommy Johnson, though he is much smaller in stature than Wally Mammoth, can still pack quite a punch. This is one of the reasons why he's so essential in my research. Take, for instance, what happened with his sister-in-law.

According to Tommy, this all happened about a year ago. Tommy, who is still an undergrad, had been putting off some of his gen-eds. One of those gen-eds was college algebra. It's not that algebra was particularly difficult for him. It's just it was tedious, or so he says.

Anyway, the time came where Tommy could procrastinate no longer and signed up for a summer session of college algebra, figuring this would make the class shorter, which in a way it did. Unfortunately, Heatherly, Tommy's sister-in-law had the same idea. And so, on the first day of class, Tommy, who was full of dread over taking the class, suddenly heard a familiar voice he couldn't quite readily place.

"Well, hello there," her mousy voice sang out.

Tommy cringed at the sound, as it somewhat startled him. Then he glanced over, and standing there was Heatherly, his sister-in-law, in all her brightly colored glory.

"Hi," Tommy uttered dryly.

"Jake was tired of me hanging around eating Bon-Bons all day. It's funny too, because I don't even know what Bon-Bons are. He told me, 'Heatherly, why don't you go do something. Get your nursing degree. Something. And maybe you can help out a little with all these bills.' To which I replied, 'Bills? Why, I thought bills were your department. While kids are my department.' Then he said, 'Well, do you see any kids running around here?' I told him, 'Nope, but that doesn't mean we won't be seeing them someday soon.' 'Right. Well while we're waiting, you can go get your nursing degree and help out with some of these bills.' Isn't your brother just a hoot?"

Tommy wasn't sure how to respond. His brother was just sort of a jerk. At least that's what Tommy thought of him. But he was big. And prone to fighting. Tommy knew that all too well from growing up being Jake's number one target for butt-kickings.

With nothing else to say, apparently, Heatherly decided to sit down next to her brother-in-law.

Once the class was underway, Mr. Jensen, the instructor, started laying down the class rules from the syllabus. After about fifteen minutes or so, Heatherly nudged Tommy's foot. Tommy sighed. Then he looked over. Heatherly was rolling her eyes as she sat hunched to her side and leaning against her arm.

"I'm so bored," Heatherly whispered a bit too loud.

Tommy nodded. "It's just the syllabus. It'll get better. I think."

"It better!" Heatherly sighed. "My first day of college and I'm already bored out of my mind."

After class, as folks were gathering their things together, Tommy was doing the same, thinking all the while about riding his bike home to see if he could catch Connie Cryer, one of my other assistants, on the phone, so he could talk to her while he masturbates, which was something he liked to do. Tommy has always been quite fond of Connie.

With these thoughts racing through his head, Tommy suddenly got a tap on his shoulder.

"You're gonna walk me to my car, right?" Heatherly asked, waiting.

Tommy nodded, reluctantly.

Not much was said as they walked to Heatherly's car. Then Heatherly decided to say, "Wow, feels like we've been walking for miles."

"Yep," Tommy uttered.

"It's true. I betcha I parked a good mile from our class. These parking lots are bigger than the mall parking lot, I swear!"

"Yep. Lots of students. Lots of parking."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm not looking forward to this class."

"It's college algebra. It shouldn't be too hard. You took algebra in high school, didn't ya?"

"Yeah. I think. But that was what, ten years ago?"

"I think it'll all come back to you."

"You're so sweet."

Tommy shrugged.

"You know, I was really dreading this whole college thing. I mean, seriously dreading. But then I saw you there. And I thought to myself, 'You know what, Heatherly. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.'"

"Good," Tommy said, still thinking about Connie and what she might be doing and what she might be saying whilst, unbeknownst to her, he's beating himself senseless.

Heatherly continued, "I mean, how can I fail when you'll be right there, next to me, to help? I mean, you are gonna help me, right? You wouldn't let your own sister-in-law sink and drown right there next to you, would you?"

"I'm sorry. What? I was thinking about something else."

Heatherly looked disappointed.

"Help you? Yeah, I'll help you."

"Good, because Jake said he's gonna be pissed if I don't pass all my classes. That'd be pretty bad if I didn't pass the very first one, huh?" Heatherly laughed.

Tommy smiled, stilling thinking about Connie.

As the weeks passed, and the class progressed, it wasn't long before Tommy realized, no matter what, the compounding difficulty of an algebra class was more than likely impossible for Heatherly. This realization was a bit of nuisance to Tommy.

Plus, there was the issue of his own work being affected. To Tommy, the class wasn't all that difficult. The material came back to him from high school. Just like he thought it would. The problem was hiding this fact.

When he got papers back, he had to do his best to hide them from Heatherly. If she saw how well he was doing and how bad she was doing, well, instant depression would come over her. Tommy couldn't concentrate on his studies when Heatherly was sitting next to him contemplating driving her car into a tree on the way home.

Then, things took a turn. About midway through the semester, Heatherly's demeanor seemed to change completely. And Tommy was perplexed. He thought for sure she was just going to drop the class at some point. But no. Heatherly kept coming to class. And her hopeless descent seemed to miraculously turn around. How was it possible? Was she somehow getting it now? Perhaps, she was finally sticking with it instead of giving up before she even started. Tommy was pleasantly surprised and alleviated by the turn around.

Get The Whole Story

What Do You Do When Your Wife's Niece Is Always Naked And/Or Masturbating In Bed?

My wife, who's very lovely, and very kind, recently confided in me about her sister's daughter. She and her sister, both, were worried that Kimberly was going through a terrible bout with depression. She was no longer interested in pursuing her career at Biggy Burger, where she had recently been promoted to assistant manager, but instead, was opting to shirk her newfound responsibilities in favor of spending everyday naked and/or masturbating in her bed. Due to my expertise in sexual health, rather than refer them to another physician, I reluctantly accepted the invitation to go, myself, to talk to Kimberly about these things.

It had been a while since I'd seen Kimberly. Probably a good three years, back when she was just finishing up high school. She was planning to go to veterinarian school but missed the deadline for classes. In the mean time, she decided she would find a job and raise some money. So, she started her career at Biggy Burger. At first, she hated it. But then, after the bulk of the staff were fired for stealing, she was quickly promoted. She went from head drive-thru personnel, night shift leader, night shift manager, day shift manager to finally assistant manager. During this fast track up the ranks of Biggy Burger, the time came and went yet again for Kimberly to sign up for veterinarian school, opting to work a little bit more, in hopes of moving out of her parent's house. Kimberly cycled through like this for a few years. Until she arrived in her present rut.

I arrived on a Tuesday morning. Only Sarah, my wife's sister, was home. Her husband is often away on business, and this day was no different.

"Hello, Mosely, I'm so glad you could come," Sarah said and gave me a tremendous hug. Sarah appeared quite worried about the situation. Her hair and clothes, which were usually so nice and neat appeared thrown together.

"Not at all. I'm honored you would ask me."

Sarah smiled. "I'm finishing up the dishes. Did you get a chance to grab breakfast? I have coffee going."

"Coffee would be lovely."

I followed Sarah into the kitchen. She poured me some coffee, remembering I take it with one cream and one sugar. Then she returned to her dishes in the sink. "So, did Jennifer fill you in on the circumstances?"

"Yes, I think I know everything I need to know. At least before I talk to Kimberly."

Then, as I sat sipping my coffee, the faint sound of a girl moaning in pleasure seeped out of the vent. I have to say, even though I had a good idea who this moaner was, the voice itself was so full of passion and delight, it was nearly impossible not feel at least a little something. In my case, it was the familiar feeling of my balls tingling. Luckily, blatant erection to speak of.

"She's up," Sarah uttered, as she dropped her head and cried at the sink.

I walked over to her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "There, there. Let's see if we can't get Kimberly out and about and contributing to society again, shall we?"

Sarah nodded, just as the sound of Kimberly suddenly wailing in ecstasy erupted from the vent. At the sound of Kimberly's sex-crazed crescendo and subsequent descent, I was at odds with my body, having to adjust myself. I did so discreetly. But then I noticed Sarah, herself, was also slightly amiss.

After a short pause, Sarah led me up the stairs and to Kimberly's room. Sarah knocked gently. Nothing. Sarah knocked a little louder. "Kimberly dear? We have a visitor," Sarah said softly as she entered the bedroom and shut the door slightly behind her. I listened as Sarah continued talking to Kimberly. "It's your Uncle Mosely. Remember? The Doctor. He's come all the way from California to speak with you. Isn't that wonderful? Won't you say hello?"

I pushed slightly on the door and there, on the bed, Kimberly, who appeared completely naked, but was wrapped in her bed sheets, was squatting, as if she might be riding someone or something in a sexual manner.

"Can I take the stuffed animal?" Sarah asked.

Kimberly, who was staring at me, lifted herself slightly, and pulled a stuffed giraffe out from underneath her and the sheets and handed it to her mother. Sarah took the stuffed animal by her fingertips and exited the room.

"Hello, Kimberly" I said.

"Hello, Uncle Mosely," Kimberly said. Then, while still covered by her sheets, she lied down on her back, up against a pillow. The tangled bed sheets, however, would only go so far, as Kimberly's little cone-like breasts rested on her chest.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"Good," Kimberly said, quite sure of herself.

"How long has it been?"

"Three years."

"Yes. How old are you now?"

"21."

"Oh, old enough to drink."

"I've been drinking since I was 15."

"Oh, I see."

"I've been smoking pot since I was 16."

"Okay."

"And fucking guys since I was 12."

"All right."

"Fucking girls since I was 15."

"That's good to know."

"So, why did you come all this way?" Kimberly asked.

"Well, it's been a while. I thought we could talk."

"Just out of the blue? You decided to drive 200 miles just to come talk to me?"

"Sure, you're very important to me. You're very important to this family."

"Yeah," Kimberly said, rolling her eyes.

"You don't think you are?" I asked, as I walked over to her desk and pulled her chair over to her bedside and sat down.

"Sure. As important as anyone else, I guess."

"Of course. Everyone is important. Every member of this family is important to everyone else in this family."

"Is this what you came to tell me?" Kimberly reached over to the night stand and grabbed a cigarette and lighter and proceeded to light up.

"Well, I was hoping to ask you about something."

"What's that?"

"Well, I'd like you to tell me a little bit about what you've been thinking lately."

"Nothing special."

"What about this?" I said, waving my hands around.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, this lifestyle you've been living."

"Oh. Do you mean my lying around in bed all the time, naked and horny and fucking every inanimate object I can find?"

I cleared my throat. "Yes," I said weakly.

Get The Whole Story

What Do You Do When Your Stepdaughter Is Constantly Flashing You With Her Giant Tits?

I feel like I might have painted myself into a bit of a corner on this front. At first, I was somewhat receptive to my stepdaughter's amusing displays of affection, as inappropriate as they were. But after a while, I figured something must be done. So, here is what I suggest you do when your stepdaughter is constantly flashing you with her giant tits.

As you might know, I've recently married. Third time for me. Hopefully three is a charm. Anyway, everything seemed to be going well. I mean to say, we weren't without the usual snags along the way of matrimony. My wife, Beatrice, is lovely in every way. However, before we got married, she led a somewhat wild life. Especially a few decades ago. The result of this was a collection of children, who, well, might be considered juvenile delinquents in some cases. In other cases, downright menaces to society.

I wouldn't want to disclose too much about my family, and all their flaws, as this wouldn't do anybody any good. However, in the case of my stepdaughter, Millie, well, I think some good can come of disclosure. And that's why I've decided to include it in this guide.

The first sign of trouble for Millie and I would have to be the first day I met her. Beatrice, my wife to be, decided to invite me over to her house for dinner, where I was to meet her three kids. Millie, at the time, was only sixteen.

Dinner seemed to go all right. It wasn't without the typical demonstrations of territorialism a dinner like this would bring. All of that, I was expecting. However, after dinner, when Millie trapped me in her pink bedroom and asked, somewhat innocently, "So, you're a doctor?" I was taken aback, to say the least.

"Yes, I'm a doctor," I replied. I glanced around her bedroom, with its incessant pinkness everywhere, and I was more than a little nervous.

"I have something to show you," Millie said, her voice sounding concerned.

"Well, I'm not sure if-" I stuttered.

Then she started unbuttoning her blouse.

"I really must be going," I said and started for the door.

"Wait!" she shouted, sliding in front of the door. "I need to show you something. I'm serious."

"I'm not that kind of doctor."

"Oh, what kind of doctor are you?"

"I work with couples. Relationships. Intimacy issues."

"Sex?" she blurted out, a little too excitedly for my liking.

"Well, yes. Sex between consenting adult. Usually married couples."

"Oh, okay. I'm neither one of those. But I do have sex."

"Well, that's not my concern. That sounds like something you and your mother should discuss. Now, if you don't mind. I would like to join the others."

"Why? They're all boring."

"Still. I must be going."

"You're sweating."

"I think it's a nervous reaction to all this pink."

"I have even more pink to show you."

"Well, I have to go, Millie. It was nice to talk to you."

"It was nice. I can always show you later."

"Sure. That's fine," I said. Little did I know, unbeknownst to me, I had just agreed to let her flash me just about every day for the rest of my natural days.

At first, Millie's flashes were altogether harmless. They were quick turns and pivots, where no actual flashing or skin was shown. This was mainly before I married her mother. After I married her mother, well, Millie was inclined to up the ante.

When we bought the house in Skylark, and we all moved in together, in hopes of becoming one happy family, Millie was about seventeen, almost eighteen and her flashes had grown somewhat sophisticated, if not just plain brash.

Rarely did she keep her clothes completely on. Meaning her underwear, especially her bras, which I was getting know each one seemingly each day, were always on display. To make matters worse, it was impossible not to notice that Millie's breasts had doubled in size in the short time I knew her, but she saw no reason to get new bras that would have fit appropriately. She preferred to keep the bras that were obviously too small, and caused her oversized breasts to spill out. Sometimes, if you listened real close, I'm sure you could even hear her bras straining to keep everything inside. It got to the point that Beatrice went out and bought her new bras, but Millie didn't seem to like them for one reason or another.

When Millie turned eighteen, I was especially excited, because it meant that more than likely she would be leaving us to going away to college. However, when she decided to go to the local community college, my hopes were dashed. And her age, as if she saw it as some right or something, seemed to invoke some sort of freedom or a free spirit in her. She was eighteen now. A woman, she would sometimes say. And so, naturally, her flashing could entail not only underwear now, but nakedness as well.    

One thing she liked to do in particularly was when only she and I were home, which was a scary proposition to begin with, and was happening more and more since Beatrice went back to work, was Millie would walk around the house completely naked. I would be in my office and if I forgot to shut my office door, invariably, I would see Millie walk past the doorway, talking on the phone or just walking about, completely naked.

On one of these afternoons, when I was working on some case studies in my office, I heard Millie call out, not frantic, just trying to get my attention, "Mosely? Mosely?"

I cringed.

"Mosely, could you come here?"

I went to the doorway of my office. "Where are you?"

"In here." I heard her voice from her bedroom.

I rolled my eyes. I walked down, somewhat stealthily, as if her prospective nakedness was a ninja about to pounce on me. I was already nervous. Already sweating.

I got to her bedroom and there she was lying on her bed, wearing a tight, black piece of negligee, which she didn't even bother putting her breasts in. Instead, she was lying on her stomach, with her large breasts spread out on the bed. But no nipples were exposed. As if that mattered.

I recoiled back and around the doorway. "Yes?"

"I have something to show you."

"I'm a little busy," I said, still looking away, down the hallway.

"I know. It'll only take a minute."

"What is it?"

"I can't just tell you. It's something I have to show you," Millie said playfully.

"Your mother will be home any minute."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Millie asked, amused.

"Well. I need to start dinner soon."

"Oh. Yeah. Of course."

"I'll see you at dinner."

"Okay," Millie said, disappointed.

After this, I decided to be a little more proactive about this problem. As soon as I got back to my office, I called one of my assistants, Connie Cryer, and asked if she could come by the house tomorrow.

Get The Whole Story