- Natural Insemination 4
- Natural Insemination 3
- Natural Insemination 2
- Natural Insemination 1
- Romancing Doctors
- Doctor Teaches Me To Love Myself
- Amanda Ch. 03
- Amanda Ch. 02
- Amanda Ch. 01
- A Factory Girl’s Examination
- Anal Sex
- Enema Between Couples
- Enema Humor
- Enema Stories
- Erotic Enema
- Erotic Fantasy
- Female Patient and Female Doctor
- Medical Fantasy
- Medical Story
- Medical Testing
- Nurse Story
- Punishment Enema
- Rectal Thermometer
- September 2013
- August 2013
- July 2013
- December 2012
- November 2012
- October 2012
- September 2012
- August 2012
- July 2012
- June 2012
- May 2012
- April 2012
- October 2010
- September 2010
- August 2010
- July 2010
- June 2010
- April 2010
- February 2010
- December 2009
- November 2009
- October 2009
- September 2009
- August 2009
- July 2009
- June 2009
- May 2009
- April 2009
- March 2009
Note to the reader: This is a continuation of the previous chapter of the story “Natural Insemination.” It is recommended the chapters be read in sequence to properly describe the scene and introduce the characters. None of the characters are real, and this is purely a work of fiction with no basis in actual medical fact. Constructive comments welcomed.
“Well! The two of you seem to be getting along just fine!” The voice of Dr. Palin suddenly comes from the open door. I never heard the door open. I never heard her walk in. I was too occupied by the upright cock in my hand to pay much attention to anything else. Quickly, I pull back, feeling embarrassed.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” She acts unconcerned towards my behavior. “Go ahead if you want to. Don’t mind me.”
I let go anyway, and sit upright in the chair out of embarrassment. “Sorry,” I attempt to apologize. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Don’t stop on my accord,” She closes the door behind her and walks the rest of the way into the room. She takes a seat down onto her chair. “Hell, go ahead and masturbate him for all I care.”
“Masturbate?” I say in automatic surprise. “That’s not what I was doing!”
“I beg to differ!” She turns to question. “But no need to worry. Go ahead and give him a good pumping. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
I can’t believe what she suggests! She acts unconcerned, like she is accustomed to it happening all the time. And the way she suggests it right in front of him!
And Richard never turns away either, doesn’t even attempt to cover himself after she enters. He acts unconcerned and takes no action against her lurid suggestion, like he too is accustomed to it happening all the time.
At the same time, his enormous cock continues to stand upright. I notice it now gleams with moisture too, almost drips with pre-cum, making it obvious what I was doing. Still, I deny it. I don’t know why, it comes automatic. I’m supposed to be a good girl. I could never admit to doing something so dirty.
Meanwhile, the doctor wheels her chair over to the cupboards. She opens one door and then another, looking for something. For what, I don’t know. She doesn’t say, only grumbles that she can’t find it. She turns her back to me, to which I can’t help but take advantage of the opportunity to admire the ridged erection standing before me. It might even be larger than before, maybe grown another inch or two longer than earlier. A temptation builds up from deep inside me, a temptation to grab it again, to stroke on him some more. He remains standing within easy reach. I could if I really wanted to, but hold back in the presence of the Doctor.
“Here it is!” She finally finds it. She pulls out a clipboard, and then complains about one of the nurses putting it in the wrong place. I quick turn away from his cock when she wheels her chair back over.
“Now let me ask you,” She starts to question when she comes back again. “Have you talked it over with your husband? Did the two of you discuss the possibility of this young man impregnating you?”
I notice the way she points to his cock when she asks her question. It’s as though the rest of him doesn’t matter, only his big cock.
My eyes automatically follow her finger and look at it too. It’s easy to see. With him standing while the two of us sit, it appears in the perfect position to easily see. As I look, I can’t help but imagine what it would feel like to be impregnated by it, to feel it drive deep inside me, even to experience the sensation of that final push when he finally releases his seed.
“Well, um, not really,” I shake my head and come back to reality. I have a difficult time answering her question and looking at his cock at the same time.
“But it’s been almost a week!” Dr. Palin acts disappointed with me. “In all that time you never talked? How are you supposed to come to a decision if you never talked about it?”
“I tried!” I try to defend. “I brought it up, several times, but he said he was always too tired to talk about it.”
“Too tired?” She brushes his complaint aside. “Nonsense! I suspect he was actually too afraid to talk about it.”
I suspect her comment is more to the truth. She has the experience. I’m sure she’s talked to many young women in a similar situation.
“I’m sorry,” I feel I have disappointed her, so hang my head in shame. “But it’s difficult, you know, to talk about such a thing. How am I supposed to convince him?”
She lets out a breath and leans back in her chair. The chair she sits on doesn’t have a back. It’s nothing more than a stool with wheels, so she positions her hands in front and stretches back like an experienced acrobat.
“Don’t be sorry,” She consoles without looking at me. “I’ve seen many cases just like yours. You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?” I want to know about her other cases. I beg her to share her experience with me. I ask how the other women eventually got their husbands to agree.
“You first must understand his inadequacy,” She advises me after a minute of thought. She sits back up straight again. “Your husband has an inadequate cock, at least compared to someone like Richard.”
She again points to the cock standing upright between us, and again my eyes naturally follow. The thick mushroomed head of his cock actually seems to have accumulated additional moisture. I gasp as I realize he has pre-cummed as we talked about it.
“His inadequate cock is the reason he can’t impregnate you,” She goes on. “But also the reason you need someone like Richard to do the job instead. As long as your husband refuses to admit to this fact, then I’m afraid you will never convince him. You need to convince him that his small cock doesn’t make him any less of a man.”
I almost disagree with her. Looking at the cock before me, I can’t help but think lowly of my husband. Compared to Richard, he does seem inadequate. The cock before me would be able to penetrate me three times as deep; push me apart wider too. A warm sort-of heat rises up from my body as I dream about it, fantasize what it would be like.
“How do I convince him?” I shake the lustful thoughts out of my mind and try to return to the subject at hand. “How am I supposed to convince him that he’s no less of a man?”
“It is particularly difficult in your case,” The Doctor seems to ignore my question. “The problem is your husband’s macho behavior. The small size of his cock might even contribute to this behavior. He was probably teased by the other boys in school, perhaps had to fight to stand up for himself after gym class.”
She seems to conduct a miniature sociological assessment of my husband. Indeed, I recall he did get into a lot of fights while in High School. It was part of what attracted me to him. Like the runt puppy in the litter, I used to feel sorry about him always getting beat up by the other boys. Now I wonder if his small sized dick might have been part of the reason why the other boys teased and fought with him.
“But how do I convince him?” I ask again. “How do I convince my husband that his smallish cock doesn’t make him any less of a man?”
“By lying,” The doctor surprises me with her advice. “And with a lot of convincing acting.”
“What?” I don’t understand at all.
“Listen,” She talks to me like a Mother talks to her teenage daughter about sex. “We both know how important a large cock can be. It heightens the sexual experience for the female. It makes it more arousing, more interesting for her. A big cock can easily give an orgasm, even multiple orgasms.”
I never had anyone talk to me like this before. Size wasn’t supposed to be important. That’s what I was always told. I never thought of my husband as being particularly small, at least not before I met Richard. She may have a point, but I’m not sure.
“I don’t know,” I express my doubt.
“Of course you don’t know,” Dr. Palin almost laughs at me. “You never experienced a real cock. Your husband doesn’t give you orgasms on a regular basis. I can assure you, once you experience a cock the size of Richard’s,” She points to it once again. “You’ll never go back to anything as inadequate as your husband’s.”
The massive cock continues to point skyward right in front of me. The mushroom head glistens with moisture. I have to fight back the desire to grab it, to stroke it once more. Better yet, I would like to experience it and find out for myself if what she says is true.
“Is all that really true?” I ask because all I can do is ask. I question the Doctor as I look at it.
“I hope you will soon find out for yourself,” She answers. “I really do, but it all depends on if you can convince your husband. You know him a lot better than I do. You are the only one who can finally talk him into it in the end, but the macho type is always more difficult to convince. They know the truth, even if they don’t realize it.”
I am left dismayed. I don’t think I have any hope. I have never been very good at lying, especially to my husband. I lied to him about little things before, but never a lie as big as this. In my heart, I know he will never agree to allow me to be fucked by another man. He won’t even talk about it. How can I expect him to agree to it?
“But perhaps I can give you an incentive to build your confidence,” The Doctor gives me a glimmer of hope.
“What did you have in mind?” I ask with excitement.
“I don’t normally allow it,” She expresses reluctance.
“Anything!” I beg of her. I have no idea what she is talking about, but agree anyway.
“Normally I require the agreement of the husband,” She goes on. “And then I’m sure you would refuse anyway, but perhaps in this case it might be a good idea to medically determine if you are capable.”
I still don’t understand. I suspect, but it can’t possibly be! She would never allow it! And even if she allowed it, would I? Would I be willing to cheat on my husband?
“Medically?” I catch her particular use of the word.
“Medically,” She repeats the word. “You are a small girl. And the cock of your husband is certainly smaller than average. It could be dangerous, you know, and I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself when it comes time for you to get fucked by a real cock.”
“Medically?” I say in little more than a whisper. Her suggestion sounds more certain. I can’t believe she would really allow it.
“And I would hate for you to go through all the trouble of getting your husband to agree, only to find out you can’t accept a real cock,” She goes on as if she doesn’t hear me. “And it wouldn’t exactly be considered cheating on your part either, not if I determined it to be a medical necessity.”
“A necessity?” I think this strange, but at the same time understand where she is going. I know it is not really necessary, not medically, but I also can’t help but want to believe her.”
“I might even insist on it,” The Doctor goes on. “You know, out of purely medical considerations.”
I look to Richard’s cock and consider it too. I consider what it would feel like, how deep it would penetrate me, and then how much it would stretch me open too. Erotic thoughts cross my mind. A tingling sensation comes from somewhere deep inside.
“Yes, that is my decision,” She concludes after a short deliberation. “I believe it medically necessary, as they say, for you to give him a try.”
“Give him a try?” I repeat the words. They sound so cold, so clinical when she says them, yet at the same time they make me feel so incredibly hot inside.
The cock standing next to me seems to think so too. Not only does it stand upright so firm and hard, but then I notice it grow wet as well. A large wallop of pre-cum oozes out the tip. The sight gives me a start, and at the same time I can’t pull my eyes away, for I know it readies itself for me.
“No need to ask Richard,” Dr. Palin sees it too. She says it with a laugh, like she is having a good time. “He certainly looks to be attracted to you. It looks like he’s ready to go.”
I can’t help but agree with her. Not only because he stands so hard, but now his pre-cum makes it even more obvious to me. Never before has any man expressed such an intense interest in me. I can’t help but be interested in him as well.
“I must say Katie,” The Doctor continues after a brief pause during which both of us take a time out to watch his performance. “Richard definitely appears attracted to you. Care to speculate what he finds so attractive?”
She asks this in the form of a question,
those big tits of yours. I can tell he’s been wanting to fuck you ever since you first walked through the front door.”
She laughs some more, but I can hardly breathe. I can hardly believe it.
“Now, go ahead and slide on over to the end of the table,” She gets up out of her chair. She walks around Richard to stand on the far side of the exam table. Without saying a word, she motions with her hand for me to rotate around. “Sit on the edge,” She instructs. “Lay back and relax.”
Despite my beating heart, despite my heavy breaths, I behave like a robot on automatic. First I turn, and then I use my elbows to lie down on my back. I behave like a patient in a doctor’s office, which seems only natural, since I really am a patient and I really am in a doctor’s office. A few seconds later I find myself lying with my back on the exam table and my legs dangling over the side.
“And pull down those panties,” She shocks me with her next request.
“What?” I hesitate, not sure what to do. “I don’t know about this.”
“Yes you do!” She takes hold of my panties herself and pulls them on down.
Suddenly, before I even fully realize it, I find myself exposed. She pulls down my panties, and not just a little ways down either, but all the way down, down past my feet and completely off my body. When she is done, she throws them in the corner of the room as if to show I won’t be needing them for a long time.
“What are you doing?” I ask with worry, not quite believing what is happening to me. Before I fully realize what has happened, I am left wearing only a bra, and that is all. It’s been a long time since I showed myself down there, at least to a man other than my husband. Not since my young teenage years, before I met my husband, and back then it was dark. Now I lay in a well lit room.
I can’t help but feel like a slut, like a stripper on stage in a gentleman’s club. But at the same time, I can’t help but feel a powerful surge of excitement too, like a stripper on stage in a gentleman’s club. At the same time I look up to see his giant cock.
“Now come on over here,” The Doctor next turns her attention to Richard.
To my horror and then to my excited delight, he walks over to join her. The two of them stand on the far side of the table and before my open legs. I fail to notice my legs stand open at first. I could close them, but then I could provide cover with my hands too, but for some reason I fail to do anything at all. His giant cock does something to me. I realize what a shameless slut I must appear as: the tiny bikini top with nothing below my waist too.
The two of them talk. I can’t hear what they say, but I can tell they talk about me. I think they might even talk about my pussy. She seems to point to it, and then he seems to look at it. I realize she gives instruction on how to have intercourse with me.
“Oh my God!” I jump in fright when he steps close.
“Try to relax,” The Doctor steps over and attempts to calm me. “And remember this is purely a medical procedure.”
No way can I relax, especially when he takes my legs. His touch feels good. His strong hands fill me with excitement. It certainly doesn’t feel like any sort of medical procedure, at least no medical procedure I ever experienced before. First one leg, and then the other, he lifts them into the air and pulls them apart. I look down the length of my body to see his giant cock standing upright in the middle.
“Not yet,” She instructs him to do nothing at first. “There it is,” She points for him at my open cunt just like she pointed for me at his cock. “But not yet.
“Try to relax,” She comes over to tell me again. “You will enjoy it a lot more if you try to relax.”
She must be kidding! I am about to be fucked by a man other than my husband, and by a tall and handsome man with the biggest cock I have ever seen. My heart races. My breathing labors. If I feel this aroused at the mere thought of it, I don’t know how I will be able to stand the actual experience.
“Go ahead and stick it in,” I hear as out of a dream, and a moment later I feel it.
“Oh God!” I feel him push at my opening. He lowers his body, leans forward to better adjust his aim, and a moment later I feel him. I feel his wetness. I feel the smooth head of his cock. And then I feel him push into me.
“Oh God!” I cry out as he attempts to enter. He’s a lot bigger than my husband. I immediately feel the difference in size. The head of his cock feels more like a fist trying to enter me.
“Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!” I cry out against the intruder.
“Try to relax,” The doctor once again suggests. “This is normal.”
“Normal?” I can’t believe she considers the situation normal. “I don’t think he will fit,” I say with worry. It feels more like a fist tries to enter me.
“He’ll fit just fine,” Dr. Palin almost laughs at me. “You’re just not accustomed to a man of his size.”
She’s right. I fear I might not ever get accustomed to something so big inside me. He pushes hard at my opening. The loose paper on the exam table causes me to slide forward. Using my legs, he pulls me back into position. I grab the end of the table and hold on.
“He’s stretching you open a lot further than what you are accustomed to,” The Doctor tells me what I full well can easily feel for myself. “He’s going to enter a lot deeper too, but don’t worry. You’ll take all of him. Just think of it as being a virgin all over again.”
“Oh God!” The pressure continues. I feel him go in, especially the swollen cock-head, even the rim around the head. I feel every inch of him. And it travels so slowly down the length of my hole, and so deep too, already deeper than my own husband’s pathetic little cock. Just when I think I can take no more, he pushes some more, and further in it goes. I realize it really is like being a virgin. Half my cunt has never been experienced before.
“She really must be tight!” The voice of the doctor comes from somewhere seemingly far away. “But keep working her. I’m sure she’ll be able to take it. You just need to be gentle with her this first time.”
The words come from the doctor. She speaks them to Richard, but I hardly pay them any attention. So engrossed in the moment, I can pay attention to only one subject at a time. For the moment, the overwhelming subject is his cock.
“Lucky I didn’t let Jason go at her,” The Doctor speaks some more. “She needs practice before she will be able to take anything more physical.”
It feels almost surreal. She talks to him, to the man fucking me, while I am being fucked. My mouth opens wide. My eyes move to the back of my head. I relish the sensation of the hard cock driving into me, and then I think of what she said about Jason the week before, what she said about him being rough. I wonder how much harder he will drive. I wonder if I will be able to take him too.
Through all this, Richard remains completely silent. He doesn’t say a word. He only fucks, as if his only purpose in life is to fuck, and I can feel for myself why his only purpose might indeed be to fuck. The pressure never diminishes. Ever so slowly his giant cock drives deeper inside. It feels as if I am being speared, as if a giant dildo attempts to enter, but never have I used such a large dildo. Through it all, there is no pain. I almost expect to feel at least a little pain, but none at all. I can’t believe a fuck could ever feel so good.
It takes a full minute before I finally feel his thighs rub against my open legs. Finally, he appears to be all the way inside.
“How does it feel?” The Doctor asks a stupid question.
“Incredible!” I tell her the truth.
“So what I said about size…” She starts to say.
“It really does make a difference!” I finish the sentence for her.
She lets out a little giggle. “You poor, deprived girl,” She almost teases. “You never knew what you were missing.”
She very possibly could be right. I never realized it could feel so good. I never realized size made such a difference. His cock feels like it extends half way up to my chest, his wide girth stretching me wide at the same time.
“And just think,” The Doctor bends down low and whispers into my ear. “You haven’t experienced anything yet.”
And with that, he pulls almost all the way out. He does it quick, a lot faster than what he went in. It takes only a second. I automatically moan with displeasure. Never before have I felt so empty, but just then he fills me back up again.
“Yes!” I nearly scream.
He stabs forward and rams it into me. This time he does it with a single, swift thrust, and I can’t help but yell out at the sensation, the feeling of his hard cock as it pushes and stretches my entire length. His strong hands grip my thighs tight as he stabs, keeping me from pushing away, forcing the cock in deep. I grip the end of the exam table too, wishing him inside, not wanting to be pushed away.
First one, then a second, and eventually a third thrust pushes inside. I lift my waist like a wanton slut to give him better access, allowing him to thrust deeper into me. A pair of strong hands move further underneath me, his fingers grasp my ass. They feel cold and course, like the hands of a man accustomed to doing physical labor. It doesn’t take long before his thighs press tighter against my own. It feels as if he grows harder and longer too.
“Now you’re getting the hang of it,” The Doctor encourages me on like the coach at a sporting event.
I hardly hear her. Again and again, he fucks. Faster and faster he goes. And seemingly deeper too! It feels like his cock has enlarged to even more substantial dimensions. Just when I think it can’t feel any better, he rams it in harder.
“Holy shit!” I soon find myself crying out with delight. “Holy! Fucking! Shit!” I cry out with each thrust.
“I told you that size made a difference,” Dr. Palin reminds me.
“It really does!” I hear myself respond to her. “He’s incredible!”
I find myself breathing hard, even panting. The thrusts go in easier, not as tight. I feel a great wetness down there, increased lubrication. Whether the lubrication comes from him or me, I can’t tell. It serves to further heighten the experience. Faster and faster the thrusts go in and then back out of me. They go in so far, and then it takes so long for him to pull out too. It feels as if he attempts to pull out nearly all the way before thrusting back in again, behaving as if he purposely gives me the experience of his full length every time.
I soon start to feel it, a surge of heat radiates from deep inside me. I’ve felt it before, but only on a few rare occasions. Immediately, I know what is happening to me. I arch my back and get ready to receive it.
“Oh God!” I sway out my arms in anticipation. “He’s incredible!”
And just then, it hits me. Not a slow buildup like all my previous experiences, but more of a sudden rush. My entire body goes ridged. A flash of intense heat radiates through me. I open my mouth to scream, but then no sound comes out. Down there, I start to spasm.
Meanwhile, Richard momentarily stops fucking to allow me to take it all in. He knows what to do. The man has vast experience giving it to women. With his cock imbedded as far as it can go, I feel my own cunt spasm against it.
“Oh fuck!” I can’t help but cry out loud. Initially I go silent when it first hits me, but then can’t help but yell at him. “Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” I arch backwards in attempt to get it to go on.
The orgasm lasts for several seconds, much longer than any of my previous orgasms. My own husband never made me feel like this, not even close! It must come from his size, I figure, and the way it stretches me open so deep. My entire body initially goes ridged, but then I allow my arms to flay freely about. I can’t help it. His fuck is like an intense drug. It takes about a minute for me to come down off the high, for the effect of the drug to gradually diminish.
“That was one,” The Doctor says somewhere seemingly far away.
“One?” I ask her back as if from a dream. It’s difficult to talk. I pant like I can hardly breathe.
“The first one,” She clarifies for me. “Are you ready for another?”
And with that, Richard leans forward and takes me by the arms. He takes hold of me just below the elbow, to both my arms at the same time, lifts me like a rag doll and pulls me up and completely off the table.
“Another?” I cry on in a shriek as I am being raised, and then a second later the thrusts start up all over again.
“No!” I realize he remains hard. He lifts me up, and then he slams me back down onto it again. I feel his hardness continue. He remains fully imbedded inside. I realize he hasn’t yet cummed, so it isn’t yet over!
“No! No! No!” I cry out with each subsequent jab.
Unbelievably, the fucking continues, slower this time, and from a different position. His oversized cock comes up from below. He fucks me in a standing position. My feet don’t even touch the ground. His cock seems to be the only thing holding me up. His hands too, when they pull me up, but then he keeps dropping me back down onto his cock again and again.
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” I pant with each thrust. His waist is strong. He thrusts hard. I rise a seemingly long ways up each time, and then I come crashing back down onto him with an intensity I never imagined. It feels as if I am being reamed out. I’ve never been fucked nearly so hard before.
“Oh! God! Damn!” I can only form words between the thrusts. He handles me like a rag doll, allowing my entire body to bounce up and down. My head sways back and forth. My breasts brush up and down against his naked chest. As for my legs, I first allow them to flay about, but then think to bring them around to lock my ankles together behind him. I lock my legs as if never wanting to let go, and still he keeps right on fucking through it all.
I soon find myself sweating. He sweats too, I notice when my forehead touches his hard, muscular chest. Both of us pant and grunt. He must have strong legs and thighs. A strong cock too, strong enough to seemingly support my weight. I rise a long ways with each thrust. His manhood seems to spear into me ever deeper with each stab.
Eventually, I lean back and allow myself to be suspended in mid-air as he fucks. I feel my boobs heave up and down, bouncing so hard I fear they might bounce out. If not out, I fear they might rip the narrow straps of the bikini apart. I’m giving him a show, I realize, but at the same time I don’t care.
And then it hits me again. It comes without warning, and then I cum. A second orgasm! Once again I go ridged as he imbeds himself fully inside and allows me to experience his full length.
“Fuck!” I arch my back and eventually yell out loud, feeling it hit me like a tidal wave. Never before have I experienced a double orgasm. The second takes longer. It takes a lot more fucking than the first. It also hits harder, maybe even twice as hard, or perhaps it’s just my imagination. Whatever the case, I experience the second orgasm of the afternoon, the second in just one session. Never before have I ever experienced two in a row.
“Two,” The doctor responds simply.
I hardly hear her, being too caught up in the orgasm to hear much of anything at all. At the same time, Richard pulls completely out. He does it so quick I hardly notice. First he lays me back onto the table, and then he pulls his cock back out. For the first time in perhaps the last twenty minutes, I am empty. The sudden void makes me feel lonely. I want to feel him again, and then look up to see it.
“More?” I question out loud when I see it. His cock seems to stand even taller than before, and so incredibly wide in girth as well. I can’t believe I have just taken the whole thing inside me, and then think about it standing hard and tall too. Still, he hasn’t cummed! It isn’t over yet! I can believe a man capable of lasting so long.
As if reading my mind, he takes me by the ankles. He lifts them high, and then pulls my legs apart. I’ve never before been made so vulnerable. It makes me feel dirty, so much like a slut, but at the same time feels so good.
Then he pauses. He leans over me with his huge cock poised at my entrance. My legs he pushes back even further. I feel my ass rise up off the table, my cunt along with it, and still with his cock poised at my entrance. He holds it there, as if tempting me, as if purposely increasing my arousal. I want him so bad. His strategy works.
And then, all of a sudden, he drives it all the way inside with a single, swift motion.
“Ahh!” I can’t help but cry out. I almost scream. It feels so good! I can actually hear it go in. It reminds me of the sound a plunger might make as it squeezes into a tube of grease.
Deep inside, and then he slowly pulls himself almost all the way out. It must take him near a half-minute to pull so far out, but then just before he leaves me completely, he rams himself back in even faster the second time.
“Ahh!” My entire body shutters. I lift my head up high. My arms go flaying, and then my entire body flops back down onto the exam table. Never before have I felt like this.
Again he pulls out slow and then rams it in hard, and then again, and then yet again. He fucks me like an animal, like he is some kind of mindless beast whose only purpose in life is to fuck. I feel like an innocent young virgin all over again, my heart racing with excited energy, my entire body drenched in sweat.
The mindless fucking continues. Slow out, and then fast in. Again and again he goes at it. He varies his speed, sometimes pauses at the entrance to my cunt hole as if to tease, and then plows it back in. Each thrust pushes my body further back along the exam table. I must grab the side to pull myself back into position. He sometimes grabs me by the waist and pulls me back too.
The thrusts don’t come in any sort of steady rhythm. He varies his timing, varies his thrusts, all in an attempt to increase my ecstasy. Sometimes he waits for me to get back into position. Other times he thrusts his cock back into me before I am ready, giving me a thrill, making me shriek. I can’t help but imagine the two of us back at the house and in the same position on my husband’s bed. I imagine myself lying down and he stands at the far end. And then I start to wonder how many more positions he might know to fuck me in. I can’t imagine being fucked like this on a consistent basis, every night, for 42 times in a row.
And again and again it goes on. Each time the same, a slow pull out and then a fast stab back in. Richard clearly knows how to fuck. He obviously has a lot of practice. I briefly wonder what other little tricks he might know, and just then the full length of his cock dives back in. The thought momentarily leaves my mind. His monster cock seems to brainwash me.
Forty-two times in a row. The number keeps echoing in my mind. I wonder what he will all be able to teach me in that time, all the different positions we will do it in. This is just the start, I realize, first grade. I still have a lot more grades to go, so much more to learn before I am awarded a diploma.
He fucks me like this for a long time. I’m not sure how long he fucks. I no longer have the ability to keep track of time. I find myself actually wanting to have yet another orgasm. Already he’s given me two of them. I seldom have even one, and now I plead for a third.
“No!” I tell him when he eventually pulls out completely. I am insatiable. I behave like such a whore. “Fuck me,” I look down to tell him, and then receive the shock of my life.
His cock still stands tall. It stands up between my open legs. He continues to hold my ankles so my legs remain apart and my cunt in the most vulnerable position. Direct in the center stands his upright cock, standing as hard as ever, but then I notice it move. It moves on its own, without him touching it, without anyone touching it, rising up and down as if having spasums. I find it an exciting image to behold, but then he grunts, and I see it form a giant arch.
“Fuck!” I yell out loud as a long white string extends high up into the air, unbelievably high, seemingly all the way to the ceiling. And the sheer volume of it! There’s so much of it! It forms a long, unbroken string, like a rope, and then seems to freeze in mid-air for several seconds for me to admire. Just when I think it can extend no longer, it comes crashing back down onto my chest and stomach.
“Oh my God!” I cry out when I feel it.
Most of his cum splatters onto my chest. It lands between my boobs, into my cleavage, and then splatters all around after it hits. Some splatters onto both boobs. Some splatters onto my neck and chin. I think I might even taste some of it from when I open my mouth wide and cry out in amazement.
And then he does it again. A second grunt, and then a second shot of cum. It rises as high as the first, appears to freeze in mid-air too, and then comes splattering back down to join the first. I can’t believe how much cum he shoots. I can’t believe how much he is capable of putting out. There must be near a full glass of it. I think of the cum, and then think of all the sperm he could shoot inside me. Richard would have no trouble getting me pregnant. His sperm would fill me completely, probably to overflowing.
A grunt and then a third spurt shoots high and then comes splattering back down on my near-naked body. I find myself covered with it. A white streak of it runs down between my cleavage, like a white river, and thick enough to stay in place. It starts to overflow, flows down my shoulders and then past my neck.
A much smaller fourth and then a fifth spurt fails to shoot as far or as much. It ejects only far enough to land on my stomach, and then yet another of similar strength follows after a longer delay. I watch it spurt, taking delight in the sight of his ejecting cock. He does this all as I watch. He doesn’t touch it. Neither do I. His cock remains uncovered and bare for me to gaze upon. I see every spasm. I get to see the way it pulses as it shoots. Never before have I gotten such an up close and intimate look at an ejaculating cock, and I find myself loving it.
Best of all, Richard makes no move to cover himself in shame or embarrassment. Neither does he masturbate himself with his own hand. He behaves as if he enjoys the fact I can watch, as if he finds delight at the opportunity to show himself off to me, like a talented musician up on stage. This could be why it lasts so long. It must be the reason the ejaculations shoot out so many times.
Eventually, the ejections diminish and it appears as if he is finished, although his cock continues to convulse and a few more dribbles come out. All of this I watch with amazement and interest. The sight of it is almost enough to give me a third orgasm.
* * * * *
“I think he likes you,” The doctor reminds me that she remains in the room. She’s been in the room the whole time. She’s been watching us. Never before has another woman watch me have sex with a guy. It somehow makes me excited knowing she’s seen me have an orgasm.
“That was the most he put out in a long time,” She even sounds impressed with my performance. “I guess you could say that you brought out the best in him!”
Looking down upon myself, I agree. I raise myself up on my elbows to take a look. “Oh my God!” I can’t help but cry out in amazement at the sight. “I never knew! How can any guy?”
I start to say but can’t even finish the words. The whole front of my body is covered in a thick coating of spunk. Most of it extends in a long line down the middle of my body. More dribbles off my boobs, swimsuit, stomach, and goes all the way up to my neck. When I sit up on my elbows, it starts to flow down the length of my body to between my legs, making me wonder if just his sperm on the outside might be enough to impregnate me inside.
“Just think of him unloading inside you,” The Doctor speaks from over my shoulder. “And then think of him doing it twice per day, every day, and for a full three weeks in a row,” She fuels my imagination.
I can’t help but want him to do it many more times. I want a repeat performance, and then I think how much more incredible it would be to have him explode inside me. He would fill me to capacity, probably enough to impregnate me from a single fuck. No way would I be satisfied with just one. I already want more. I want him to fuck me again and again.
“Oh yes!” I eventually voice out loud.
“Of course!” The Doctor replies almost in a laugh. “That is why I wanted to give you this advanced demonstration. Consider it a preview to the real show, like the preview to a good movie. I hope it gives you some extra incentive to convince your husband.”
“Yes it does!” I assure her. “I’m sure I can get him to agree, eventually, somehow…”
My voice trails off as I consider the possibilities and try to think up some additional options to get my husband to agree. Nothing comes to mind at the moment, but I feel more confident than ever before. The reward proves too fabulous to brush aside. I must do everything I can to convince him.
The doctor lets out a slight chuckle at my reaction. My lust appears humorous to her. I’m sure she’s seen it before, probably many times, and from many different women.
“In the meantime,” She eventually continues after a short pause to return to her professional nature. “Perhaps you might be interested in going back to your hand and finishing him off the rest of the way?”
“My hand?” I don’t understand. “Finish him off?”
“He’s still hard,” She points. “He’s not done yet.”
I look down with wonder. I look at it with awe. The cock still points skyward. It hasn’t softened, not even after ejaculating so much. I don’t understand.
“He pulled out too soon,” The Doctor must explain. “He pulled out so not to impregnate you, at least not yet, but this means he failed to finish. I’d say a few minutes with your hand should just about do it.”
She smiles at me and then turns to leave. “Have a good time,” I hear from somewhere further behind. “You know the drill.”
And with that, I am suddenly left all alone with the big man once again. I can’t believe it. I’m not sure what to do. Richard does nothing to relieve my confusion. He remains standing, says nothing, and continues to allow his erect cock to do all the talking for him. I know he wants it, and not only from the size of his cock. He sweats. He breathes hard too, and he looks desperate for me to take it. He also looks at me, I notice, his eyes pointed down to my large boobs in their small covering. I’m accustomed to men looking at my chest. They do so even when I wear blouses, T-shirts, and a full complement of clothing. I catch guys looking a lot more when I wear anything low cut or that fits tight across my chest. No wonder Richard looks, considering what little I wear. I’m practically naked, which gives me an idea.
“You like?” I glance down along with him. “Would you like to see more?”
He jumps back in shock. My promiscuity surprises him, but I don’t know why he should be surprised, not after what we’ve both just been through. He’s already seen most of me. I figure why not show him the rest. Eventually, he nods in the affirmative, silently voicing his agreement.
“You don’t say much,” I comment. He hasn’t said much for a long while. He hardly talked at all while we fucked, other than a few moans and grunts. Not that I mind the strong silent type, especially when it comes equipped with a large cock.
“Nothing much to say,” He eventually answers, speaking with as few words as possible. He acts like a shortage of words exists in the world and he must ration them carefully. The fact I am reaching around to undo the back string of my top might have something to do with it too. His eyes continue to look down at my chest. He’s not shy about looking at me.
It takes longer than it should to untie the rear of the bikini. My hands shake. They perspire with sweat. The string slips from my fingertips, so I must grab it again, and pull. As far as showing him, I figure why not? He’s sure to see me anyway. Plus, I somehow want to reward him. After such an impressive performance with his cock, I feel almost as if I owe it to him.
His breathing seems to turn harder as soon as I succeed. So does his cock. It points up taller, even spasums, almost jumps with excitement. The sight of it makes me want to show all I have to offer. He still can’t see anything, or at least nothing more than before, but I suppose he must have noticed my boobs lose their support when I untied the strings.
He licks his lips as though anxious to take a taste of what I have to offer. I am momentarily diverted as I imagine him tasting them, kissing them, his lips puckered up to my nipples. I’m sure he would like to take a suck on my nipples. I hope to give him the opportunity.
“Would you like to see more?” I ask a second time
“Oh yes!” This time, he answers. He compliments at the same time. I like the way he answers in a gasp, like a young virgin about to get his first look at a real pair of tits. I am actually anxious to show him. I want him to see all I have to offer, so with that, I pull up the two strings and pull off the cups.
“Oh God!” He actually pants when he sees my bare breasts. He jumps back too, and so does his cock. I like the way it jumps for me.
“Do you like them?” I ask a stupid question.
Of course he likes them! I can tell how much he likes them. All I need to do is glance down at his massively erect cock. Every guy likes a big pair of tits, and especially a horny guy waiting to be jacked off. His cock actually moves as he gyrates his hips with excitement, causing the long appendage to bob up and down, making the big thing look almost alive right in front of me.
“Then come closer,” I invite. “Go ahead and take a feel if you would like.”
This seems to surprise him, as if he doesn’t usually get to feel the boobs of the women he is fucking, but I want him to feel mine. He steps forward. His hands slowly rise. I sit up straighter and push out my chest to give him the best possible feel.
“Wow!” It doesn’t take him long to take a feel. He uses both hands, one on each boob, and first touches them with just the tips of his fingers. “So big!”
He knows this already. He saw it for himself when he just looked at them. All the guys think my boobs are big, but then they are.
“Do you like them?” I ask again. He never did answer me the first time, at least not verbally.
“Oh yes!” He expresses his delight. “So firm!” He compliments. “Magnificent!”
I’m glad he likes them. I also enjoy the feeling of his hands upon me. It’s been a long time since any hands besides my husband’s have touched my bare breasts. Richard handles them with care, more gently than most, like my boobs are a pair of precious orbs that could break and shatter if handled too roughly.
Eventually he gets around to turning a little rougher and gives them a squeeze. Not hard, but a gentle squeeze. He attempts to lift them too, as if to judge their weight. Men like to squeeze and manipulate my boobs all around. I’ve noticed it with my husband when we were first married. I noticed it a lot more with old boyfriends. He lifts one in each hand and attempts to give me cleavage.
Soon, he moves his fingers over the tips of my nipples and gives me a thrill.
“Oh!” I involuntarily let out a gasp.
“So hard!” He voices back.
Yes, my nipples do stand tall and hard. They also seem unusually sensitive, which I suppose might have something to do with the intense fuck I just received. He roles his fingers across them several more times, and then circles around as if to tease them.
“You naughty boy!” I tease him back. I behave like a horny young slut working a street corner. “Now bring that cock closer and let’s see what else it can do.”
He obeys me like I am his mistress. As soon as he gets close enough, I reach out and grab it once again. I wrap my fingers around, and this time I do it with a lot less hesitance than before. I don’t act shy. I grab his cock like I own it.
“That’s nice,” I take a feel of its wide circumference and long length. It feels a lot slicker than before. It feels wetter too, coated in a combination of his cum and sperm, and then there are my own juices too. It feels incredible. I so much want it to shoot its full load deep inside me.
“I can’t wait for next time,” I tell him as I give it a squeeze. “Don’t worry, they’ll be plenty of next times. I’ll be sure to convince my husband to let me have lots of next times.”
Just then I know what to do. I know how to persuade my husband, how to talk him into letting me be fucked by this big man. I don’t know why I haven’t thought of it before. It seems so obvious! I should have thought of it first thing, but then I suppose I didn’t have the impetus of a cock to point it out to me. All I need to do is withhold sex from my husband long enough for him to be putty in my hand.
As I begin to stroke on Richard, I think through each deceptive step to trick my husband into letting me stroke Richard a whole lot more. I will start with the today’s appointment. I’ll act like I am pissed at him when I get home, tell him how embarrassed I felt sitting in the waiting room. “I waited for over an hour,” I’ll say. “I tried to call you repeatedly.” It will be the truth, sort-of, just with the details left out. I did call repeatedly, twice as a matter of fact. I just won’t tell him what I was doing during my long wait. In any case, I can carry a grudge for a long time, stay pissed at him for at least a week, maybe two. There will be no sex while I am in such a mood.
Later, I’ll simply tell him there’s no point in us having sex any more. We tried it before. We know it won’t give me a child. If he’s not willing to allow me to be impregnated by someone who will make it work, then why should I have intercourse with someone who can’t? I might even tell him that I no longer get much pleasure from having sex with him, which might not be so far from the truth. After the newfound experience with Richard, I doubt if I will get much pleasure from him at all.
At the same time, I imagine myself wearing my most provocative outfits to keep him plenty excited and always horny. I’ll put on tight fitting blouses, I’ll be sure to wear shorts that come almost all the way up to my ass, and then I’ll show cleavage with a few open buttons on any button-down blouse too. I already have a few sexy items in the closet. I can always go shopping for a few more. “Oh, this little thing,” I imagine myself teasing him when he eventually notices. Perhaps I might even step out of the bathroom topless or bend down low right in front of him. My plunging tits always did drive him nuts. Or I can buy myself a sexy little teddy to wear to bed, or maybe a bikini just like the one Dr. Palin provided, just like the one I was formally wearing. It’ll be enough to drive him wild with lust. He will have no choice but to give in. It shouldn’t even be all that hard to convince him.
A moan sounds from another man standing right in front of me. His hands have long since left my boobs. It is as though he can only take so much, either my hand or my tits, so he lets go of my boobs to experience the full force of my hand. I realize my hand strokes on him fast, racing up and down his cock, beating his meat like some well practiced whore. By the end of the “treatments,” I may be very much like a whore. I think of all the new positions Richard will be able to teach me, all the different ways he will fuck me.
Another moan. I had almost forgotten about him, about Richard, being so absorbed into the thoughts of how to trick my husband. I suddenly come back to him. I remember what I hold in my hand.
“Cum for me,” I slow my strokes and tell him in a tease. “Let’s see how much more you have.”
He sweats, I notice, as though exhausted with the whole experience. He appears to try to hold out, holding it inside to give me as much time as possible. I imagine him doing the same when he fucks me, giving me orgasm after orgasm. I can’t wait for him to fuck me again and again. I wonder how many weeks it will take my husband to eventually give in.
A third moan. He sounds close. He feels close too. His cock feels as hard as a rock. It might even shiver in my hand. I slow even further in an attempt to feel it.
And then he grunts. He grunts just like he did earlier, just before he came all over me. I can tell he’s about to cum, and then I know he is.
Just then, it happens. I have his cock pointed up at my chest when he does it. As I watch, a long string of sperm shoots up between my swelling mounds. It hits me on the neck and just below the jaw, causing me to laugh. At the same time, I look down at his cock with awe and amusement. How can a guy possibly have so much? Where can all his cum be coming from?
He grunts again, and I make sure to point his cock so the second shot hits me in the left boob. It hits with force onto the underside of my boob. It even tickles a little, like someone poking a finger into my boob. I plan to let Richard play with my boobs all he wants. He will certainly want to poke them, and then he will want to feel and squeeze them too. Every guy likes a big pair of boobs. Richard is going to love them.
A short squirt onto my right breast, and then finally he drools. His head slumps back. He looks as if he is about to faint. At the same time, a small geyser of his thick, white goo oozes up and out of his cock to land on my fingers. Finally, he appears done. I can’t believe a guy capable of spurting so much.
“Next time,” I conclude in little more than a whisper after I finally drain him. “You’ll be doing it inside me without a rubber.”
- To be continue… -
Chapter 3: Second Appointment
Note the following is a work of fiction and has no basis in actual medical fact.
The same handsome hunk sits behind the counter. A sliding glass window separates him from the rest of us in the waiting room. The window stands open at the moment, or at least half of it does, but could easily be slid closed at the slightest disturbance. I suppose he shuts it to silence the petty conversations and complaints from waiting patients. It could also be so he and the doctor can have private conversations about a particular patient. Whatever the reason, it continues to stand half-open. He makes no move to close it.
The handsome young man smiled at me when I first walked up. He even remembered my name and acted pleased at my return. It gave me a thrill, this hot guy remembered little ol’ me, but then I recalled the fact I did have an appointment. My name was probably displayed right in front of him on his computer screen. No wonder he knew; but still, I liked to hear him say it. Just talking to the guy gave me a thrill.
I notice he continues to glance at me every few seconds from behind the counter. Not stare, but he glances over as if checking me out. Two other people sit in the waiting room along with me, but they are men. He doesn’t give them any notice. Just me, which I like! I also like the fact the doctor has a male receptionist. I think this curious, intriguing, and wonder if it has any significance.
I don’t wear anything provocative to give him notice: A white blouse and mid-length skirt. It’s a spring outfit, short sleeves, light fabric, and with a low neckline – but not low enough to show cleavage. The only aspect of the outfit that anyone might consider provocative is the outline of the small black bra I wear beneath. I wonder if this is what the man behind the counter sees, the outline of the bra and the knowledge of its small size. Perhaps he pictures me without the blouse when he looks up. Or maybe he tries to imagine me in even less, like topless, wearing nothing at all to cover my large chest.
My lustful thoughts are interrupted by the sound of my own name. I jump in reaction, expecting to see my husband but then realize it comes from the receptionist.
“Yes,” I automatically get up and go to him.
“About your husband,” He starts to say and then stops in mid-sentence, as if distracted. “What I mean to say is that it’s 3:15 PM. Are you sure he had the right time?”
“He has the right time,” I assure him.
“Because your appointment was at 3:00 PM,” He says what I already know.
I suddenly realize the reason for his distraction. I am leaning over the counter as if wanting to speak to him about some private information. In the process of doing so, he has a clear view into my open blouse, at my plunging breasts.
“I just called him before coming over myself,” I tell him, not bothering to rise, pretending not to realize it, and allowing him to look. “Maybe he’s stuck in traffic. Sometimes he has a last minute detail to finish up at work.”
“Of course,” He accepts graciously. “I just wanted to let you know if you wanted to maybe call to remind him, but if you already did so…”
I smile back with the realization of where he looks. It makes me feel naughty, even sexy, just like the way I felt at work when the male customers looked into my cleavage. His eyes seem unable to pull away. It provides me a sense of power at what I do to him.
“Or maybe he’s just a little shy about coming back for a second appointment,” I add in an attempt to lengthen the conversation and extend the feeling. Normally I would rise with embarrassment at the realization of a man staring down my blouse, but this handsome young receptionist proves too tempting.
“A lot of the husbands are,” He leans forward in his chair and speaks in a private whisper just to me. “What I mean is, many husbands are naturally reluctant at what the doctor has planned for their wives.”
I recoil back up to a standing position. He knows! Of course he knows! He knows why I am here. He probably has my medical record displayed on the computer monitor before him. He might even know more about the procedure than me, but still it embarrasses me.
“Take those two men,” His eyes move past me, finally looking up out of my cleavage. He points to the only other people in the waiting room, two men who sit on either end of the gaudy-looking chase lounge. “Their wives are getting treatments right now, in back.”
“Really?” I find this interesting. “Treatments?” I ask stupidly, but of course I know exactly what he means. One of the men reads a magazine. The other must be more experienced because he came prepared with a book. They sit with casual assurance, acting as if everything is normal. I wonder what they are thinking while their wives are being fucked by other men.
I can’t help but think of their wives, and then I can’t help but think about what it will be like for me to go through the same “treatment.” Not only fucked, but fucked by a young, vibrant, handsome stud with a big cock. Again I think of Jason. I wonder if Jason will be the one to fuck me. And then I think of my husband waiting in the waiting room while Jason has his way with me.
* * * * *
Dr. Palin interrupts my pleasant thoughts when she squeezes into his small office and hands the receptionist a chart. I find myself leaning over the counter once more, not even realizing I am doing it, and then quick stand back up, embarrassed at another woman seeing me in such a provocative position. I make to sit back down. They have business to conduct, I figure, and don’t want to interrupt.
“Katie?” The doctor says my name before I get back to my chair. “I am ready for you now, if you would like.”
“But my husband,” I turn to her. “He hasn’t arrived yet. I think he’s stuck in traffic or something.”
Dr. Palin pauses to consider this for a moment, but then invites me to start without him. “That’s all right,” She disappears for a moment, and then reappears at the side door and at the entrance to the exam room. “He doesn’t need to be here for the first part of the exam.” Standing to the side, she beckons me to enter. “We can start with your test results, and then there’s a few items I prefer to talk over with you alone. He can always join us later.”
I hesitate. “An exam?” I catch one particular word. “But we haven’t…”
“Don’t worry,” She senses my nervousness. “I know you haven’t yet decided,” She finishes my sentence for me. “And it’s a simple exam. Nothing evasive; you might even like it.”
Her positive attitude both attracts and worries me. I’ve had doctors say the same thing to me before, a long time ago, when I was just a little girl. They would act happy right until the point where they jabbed me with a needle. I doubt if Dr. Palin would do the same, but I still worry.
Putting my trust in the doctor, I go where she beckons. The prospect of going in to see the doctor all alone makes me nervous. I’d prefer to have my husband present to act as a shield, a type of barrier to protect me. Despite his often domineering attitude, he does have the ability to calm me. I’m naturally a tense person. He has the ability to direct the tension away. Before going in, I take a final glance out into the waiting room to check if he arrived at the last minute.
“You’ll be glad to know all your test results came back negative,” The doctor seems to sense my anxiety and attempts to first relax me with some good news. “The results show no evidence of any sexually transmitted diseases or conditions.”
I’m glad to hear it, but then I expected to hear it. I have a difficult time imagining myself contracting anything in the long list of diseases she mentioned on my first visit. Still, there’s always the possibility. I could have caught something by accident, like while giving blood; or I suppose there is always the possibility my husband might be fooling around behind my back with some prostitute, so I’m glad to hear my fears are unfounded. Her news relaxes me.
“So you appear to be the perfect candidate for the procedure,” She concludes as we walk side-by-side down the hall. “You have nothing to worry about. I just have a few follow-up questions. It would be best if your husband was also present, but perhaps we can take advantage of the situation to give you a little advanced look at what you’ll be in for.”
Her last words leave me curious. She says them in a hushed tone, so I’m not entirely sure if I even heard her correctly. I more clearly heard her saying I have nothing to worry about, so I don’t.
“Sorry about my husband,” I also hear her mention my husband. “I wish I knew what is taking him so long.”
“Don’t worry about him,” She waves my concern aside.
“It’s just that he’s a busy man,” I attempt to apologize for him. “Sometimes he gets bogged down at work. There must have been a meeting, or maybe he simply lost track of time.”
I offer several excuses, none of which I believe myself. I’m sure he didn’t forget. My message on his phone would have reminded him. I also know he’s not all that busy at work.
We walk slowly down the hallway as the doctor examines closed doors on both sides. Some have papers sitting in baskets along side, to which she turns, takes a quick look, and goes on. All the doors look the same to me. She appears lost as to which one to enter. I can’t help but wonder which room contains the wives of the men waiting in the reception area.
At the next door, she hesitates and then swings it open.
I first hear them: the voice of a woman. It pants with desire. “You bitch!” She says just as the door closes again. The deeper voice of a male too, moaning. I also see them, but only for an instant.
“Sorry about that,” The doctor apologizes. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” She lets out a slight laugh. “The doors of all these treatment rooms begin to look the same after awhile.”
It takes a few seconds for the image to register on my mind. I saw them, or at least I thought I saw them. I’m really not sure what I saw. The wife was on top. She was positioned on her knees on top of an exam table. Below, he lay. I didn’t see much of him, only his torso, but I definitely saw a body below her. She appeared to be riding the guy, humping him up and down. I had heard about such a position before, where the woman went on top, but never tried it myself. My husband always stayed on top because that was how it was supposed to work.
“Ah, this one will serve us better,” Dr. Palin more carefully checks behind the next door and then enters only when she confirms the room empty.
Meanwhile, I wake up out of my stupor, realizing I have been standing in place. For how long, I am not sure. The sound and sight of what I saw put me in a state of shock. Coming back to reality, I look down the hallway to see the doctor waiting for me two doors down.
“Don’t worry,” She assures me. “This treatment room isn’t being used.” She opens the door the rest of the way as if to demonstrate.
I quickly step through, embarrassed at my reaction, still not completely sure what I just witnessed. I enter what appears to be a normal exam room in a normal doctor’s office. A chair sits in the corner, a low-hanging table along the wall. Along one side is a countertop, sink, and cabinets above. The paper crunches beneath me when I sit down upon it.
“First, you need to change into this,” The doctor opens one of the drawers of the cabinet, gives me a look as though to judge my size, and then pulls out a neatly folded square of wrapped white fabric. “I have one more patient to finish up on, and then I’ll come right back to talk to you.”
I don’t bother to look at what she hands me, not at first anyway. I assume it to be a hospital gown, one of those embarrassing hospital gowns that opens down the back. My mind remains too occupied with what I briefly saw through the open door to coherently think of much anything else.
“I’ll check for your husband in the reception room before I return,” The doctor gives a pleasant smile at the door. “He might be out there already. Even if he’s not, you have nothing to worry about. You’ll be fine.”
I think to ask why I need to change clothes. I suddenly realize I shouldn’t need to change clothes, not to only answer a few questions, not if what she tells me is true. I think to ask, but then she leaves before I get the chance. Thoughts of needles come back to me. I hope my husband arrives soon, ideally before the doctor returns.
I take my first close look at the package only after she leaves the room. To my surprise, it isn’t a gown at all. Instead, it appears to be underwear. A panty falls onto the floor. The string holding the package together is connected to the cups of a bra. Small cups too, I notice, and no hooks to fasten the strings together. These need to be tied, like those of a string bikini. In fact, the outfit looks a lot more like a two-piece bikini than underwear.
I pick the panty up off the floor not sure what to do with it. The outfit is very generic, very antiseptic, all white and looking exactly the way hospital clothing is expected to look, just a lot less than what I expected.
What to do with it should be obvious. The doctor told me. She asked me to put it on. I don’t know why, but then figure the doctor must have her reasons. She is a doctor, after all. I am clearly in a doctor’s office. I sit on an exam table. Perhaps the outfit serves the same purpose as a more common hospital gown, intended to allow her to examine me more easily, just different than any hospital gown I’ve ever seen.
I hesitate but eventually take off my own clothes to put on what she gave me. I don’t want to appear afraid. I don’t want to be in my own clothes when she returns. The doctor has a busy practice with a busy schedule. She doesn’t have time to worry about my little concerns. Plus, she is a doctor, after all. I need to trust her.
First the bottom and then the top, I take off all my clothes and put on the strange new hospital gown. Fearful of someone walking in and seeing me, I change behind the table. I make sure to face away from the door, recalling what I mistakenly witnessed down the hall. The image comes back to me. Again I think about it. Both were naked, both the woman above and the man lying below him. I didn’t see much of him, just the side of his bare thigh as she bounced up and down. I didn’t see anything of importance, which makes me wish I had, especially after what the doctor told me about the men who do the impregnations. The woman riding on top lay a lot more exposed. I recall the way her breasts heaved up and down while she bounced. Her breasts weren’t very big, not nearly as big as my own, which I now examine in the bra.
The outfit turns out to be even smaller than it looked. The bottom fits about right. The panty resembles any ordinary panty, very generic, nothing fancy, plain white and covering everything of importance. It looks like it might be designed for a hospital, except for the way I have to tie it around my waist.
The bra is another matter. I am surprised at the size, at how little it covers. I adjust it, attempt to stretch it, pull it one way and then the other. Still, it leaves the majority of my boobs exposed: On both sides, and then on top too. Generic and white, like the panty, but with such tiny cups. I attempt to retie the strings up around to the back of my neck to give myself more support, but the smallness of the cups severely limits how much support it can give. Briefly, I consider the possibility of searching through the drawers in the office for a larger size too. The doctor must have estimated wrong, I figure, or maybe a too-small top was packaged with a normal bottom. Yet I don’t dare. I fear looking through her office, afraid what else I might all find. She probably has lots of dangerous medications lying around, not to mention all those needles. I don’t want to get in trouble.
Sitting back down on the exam table, I wait for Dr. Palin to return. It feels uncomfortable wearing the suit. I feel almost naked. Anyone walking into the room would be able to see me. It would take little imagination for someone to picture me wearing no clothes at all.
While I sit and wait for the doctor, I think more about the room two doors down and what I saw. She was on top, I realize, having intercourse with a man from above. I never tried it from the top. It seems so unnatural, yet also fills me with an erotic sense of power. She also said “bitch,” I recall, treating the guy she was riding like her male bitch. One of the men out in the waiting room almost certainly had to have been her husband. I wonder what he would think if he saw what I did.
Before I have a chance to think about it too much, Dr. Palin returns.
I initially jump at the sight of the open door. The door opens quickly. I stand up from the table at the sight, fearful of who it might be.
“I see you are ready,” Dr. Palin expresses little emotion when she enters. “Relax,” She must notice my tension, so gives a pleasant smile. “Please, stay seated. I just have a few items to discuss with you.”
I automatically sit back down on the table at the command of her authoritative voice. The paper crunches below me. The door closes behind her. No one else enters, most notably not my husband.
“Any word?” I think first to ask about him. “I mean my husband?” As soon as I say it, I wonder what he might say if he saw me in my present state of dress.
“I just checked,” Dr. Palin disappoints. “I’m afraid there’s been no sign of him so far, which is part of what I would like to talk to you about: Your husband.”
I look at her confused.
“I just have a few questions about him,” She diverts the subject. “But first, let me ask if you have any questions for me?”
I am taken aback. Usually the doctor asks the first questions. That is what I’m used to. She has better bedside manners than most. It is considerate of her to first ask of me.
“Just this suit,” I think the first subject to come to mind. “I was just wondering…” I start to say.
“I see it fits perfect on you,” She interrupts. “You fill it out well.”
“Perfect?” I look down upon myself. It fits far from perfect, but she is correct in saying I fill it out. I fill it more than I dare. “It’s a little small.”
“Nonsense,” She dismisses my concern. “The suit is fine. The problem is with your breasts.”
She finally says something that makes sense. Indeed they are a problem. They are too big. I have always been big on top. I would never wear such a small bikini in public.
“I must say, Katie, you certainly have some very large breasts,” She tells much to my embarrassment. “Can I assume they are real?”
“Real?” I am confused for an instant.
“Or are they artificially enhanced?” She clarifies. “It sometimes can be difficult to tell. The quality of breast implants has improved so much over the years?”
“They’re real,” I almost laugh at the thought of getting my breasts enhanced. I have no need. I would never do such a thing, and my husband would never let me.
“Then they are unusually large,” She tells me what I already know. “Especially for a woman of your size. It is unusual, given your short stature, to have breasts of such large size.”
I glance down upon myself once again. It feels strange to hear a woman compliment me on my breasts, but then she is a doctor. I realize she is only giving a clinical opinion. It’s her area of expertise.
“Yes, they are pretty big,” I have to agree. “I sometimes wish they weren’t so big.”
They look even bigger in the small bikini. The swimsuit does an excellent job at covering just enough to show off their size.
“What about your husband?” The doctor asks next. “Does he sometimes wish they were smaller too?”
“Oh no!” I have to laugh. “He likes them big. I think most men do.”
“Indeed they do,” She laughs along with me. “Men are so predictable! Give them a big set of tits, and they go crazy.”
I have to agree with this too. Our little exchange makes me relaxed. I’m glad for the little woman-on-woman discussion we are having.
“But seriously,” She eventually stops laughing and goes on with my examination. “Statistically speaking, women with large breasts should have an easier time in getting pregnant,” She informs me. “Such women are quite literally built for having babies, having more milk to provide nourishment. A statistically larger percentage of large breasted women also have an increased tendency to have twins or even triplets.”
“Really?” I never heard this before.
“Of course it is!” Dr. Palin talks as if this should be obvious. “It’s perfectly logical when you stop to think about it. In your case, for instance, you could probably keep the bellies of a set of quadruplets full of milk without much of a problem.”
I take this as a compliment. I have no reason to doubt her. She is a doctor, after all, and what she says contains a lot of logic. Indeed my large boobs will someday contain an ample supply of milk – provided, that is, if I ever manage to get pregnant.
“A large pair of breasts also tends to attract more eligible males,” She goes on. “I have a personal theory about this. Perhaps that is why big breasted women have an easier time getting pregnant. They attract larger males; males able to insert themselves deeper into the female sex, and therefore able to impregnate them more easily.”
I recall my previous visit. I remember what the doctor said about Jason and the rest of her males. Mostly I remember what she said about their sizes.
“Which brings us back to your husband,” She doesn’t give me much of a chance to think about it. “He is rather small, isn’t he?”
She goes direct to the point. I hesitate, feeling sorry for my husband, but then eventually nod my head to agree. What choice do I have?
“I also sense he is the macho type,” She goes on. “He’s proud of his masculinity. He probably behaves very possessive of you.”
I’m not sure why she asks me these questions, but her description proves surprisingly accurate. “He’s a good man,” I defend his nature.
“I’m sure he is,” She appears to mean no harm. “I’m sure the two of you love each other very much.”
“We do!” I assure her.
“That’s why I say this not to insult or put him down in any way,” She first warns me before she says it. She warns like a friend about to give me bad news. “It’s just that I sense he may not be willing to allow you to undergo a treatment. In fact, I suspect that may even be why he isn’t here right now.”
I stop to think about it. In fact, I have already thought about it. She may be right. The thought did occur to me, secretly, although I would never admit it.
“And that is why I would like to give you some encouragement to help you talk your husband into letting you receive the treatment,” She doesn’t wait for my reply. “I feel the two of you deserve to have children. I think you would make terrific parents. Therefore I would very much like to help you get pregnant, but you need the help of your husband too.”
I appreciate her concern. The doctor seems to genuinely care about me and my ability to have children. I know she tries to help, but I also worry about what she tries to tell me. For reasons unknown, I grow tense with what I fear she might say.
“The bottom line is this,” She doesn’t give me much time to think about it. “I’m afraid your husband’s dick is simply too small to allow you to have children.”
“Too small!” I never had a doctor speak so bluntly to me before.
“You need a real cock,” She goes on before I even have a chance to think about it. “Sorry for being so direct, but what you really need, Katie, is an oversized cock to get you pregnant. You need to be fucked by a male appendage with more thickness and length than what your husband is able to provide. What you need, Katie, is a real cock to shoot a full load of hot spunk deep inside you.”
I sit up with a start. None of the other doctor’s ever said this to me before, nor did they use such vulgar language. Usually the doctors spoke using more therapeutic terms, the medical names whenever they talked. Her language gives me a start, but then I recall her speaking much the same way a week ago.
“I apologize for being so direct,” She tells me again. “But I believe in getting to the point and telling it like it is. I also believe in using terminology my patients are sure to understand. It makes no sense for me to use complex medical jargon to confuse you.”
She certainly does get to the point, and she certainly uses terminology I understand. In fact, she leaves no doubt. I know exactly what she is telling me.
“And if you expect your husband to agree to allow another man to fuck you,” She pauses for a moment to let her words sink in and then goes right back to her direct approach. “Then I must say, Katie, you are going to have to do some work to convince him. That is why I invited you back here today. That is why I asked you to put on this particularly small outfit,” She points to me.
I am confused. She finally admits the outfit is as small as I think it is. But why? Why would she have me get dressed in a small bikini swimsuit?
“I want to show you something to help convince you on the necessity of the procedure,” She goes on before I can offer any questions. “In fact, I would like to bring in someone to help convince you.”
A moment later, as if on cue, the male receptionist from the front desk walks in. No knock. He doesn’t say anything at all. He simply walks in as if invited. I never noticed any indication from the doctor to summon him, which means he must have been waiting just outside the door. I wonder if he was listening. I wonder how much he overheard.
At the same time, I am taken aback. I recall my near nudity. Automatically, my hands come up. I cross them across my chest, squeezing my boobs, covering what the top fails to cover.
“Don’t worry about that,” Dr. Palin gives me a laugh. “No need to be shy. This is Richard, one of the men who administers the treatments. Believe me, he’s seen it all! He is exceptionally experienced. You aren’t covering anything he hasn’t seen a hundred times before.”
He reaches out his hand to shake mine. “Nice to meet you again,” He greets.
“I didn’t know!” I keep myself covered out of shock. I fail to return the handshake, afraid to pull my hands away from my chest. I leave him standing, looking awkward, with his hand extended out to me.
“I believe the two of you already talked out front,” The doctor remembers. “I almost forgot, but Richard was helping out with front desk duty today.”
His hand remains in place, stretched out to me, tempting me. I don’t want to leave him looking silly, yet at the same time fear exposing myself. The temptation of his hand wins out.
“Nice to meet you again too,” I momentarily expose myself. Only one hand provides cover. His eyes seem to glance down at my single, exposed, bra-covered boob – or perhaps it is only my over-active imagination. In any case, he takes a strong grasp of my hand and gives a pleasant shake.
First one hand, and then I lower the other. I realize the doctor is right. If this man truly does administer “treatments,” then he surely has seen it all before. The knowledge that Richard gives treatments comes as a shock, but a pleasant kind of shock. I can’t help but think about him treating me.
He acts friendly, like we are old friends. A smile shows on his lips. I recall the pleasant conversation we had over the counter, and then at the way I provocatively leaned forward to give him an unencumbered view down my open blouse. He has already seen my cleavage, I recall, and now gets to see a lot more.
I also recall the excited feelings I had towards him, the attraction. The memory makes me braver, less shy. In a strange sort of way, I don’t mind him seeing me. I might even want him to see me in the little outfit. Soon, I find myself seated on the table with my hands at my side.
That’s much better,” Dr. Palin encourages my bravery. She takes a seat down on the only chair in the room.
Richard remains the only person standing. He looks different than the front desk, more masculine, now standing before me without a shirt. He also wears sweatpants, I notice, the same gray-colored sweatpants that I saw on Jason on my last visit. Wide shoulders, muscular biceps, he looks a lot like Jason as well. He could almost be a gladiator. Standing before me is one of the most handsome, stud males I have ever seen.
“Sorry to surprise you,” Richard first apologizes. “Perhaps I should have said something at the front desk.”
“That’s all right,” I choke on my own words, hardly able to talk. Not just Jason, but Richard too? I can’t believe my luck. Jason was handsome enough, but then I take a look at Richard and can’t believe him either.
“I actually noticed the two of you at the front desk,” Dr. Palin already seems to know. “Correct me if wrong, but I noticed a certain attraction between the two of you when you were talking.”
“Indeed!” Richard agrees, much to my delight. He speaks only a single word, but it is enough to turn me red with embarrassment. I momentarily turn shy, wanting to bring my hands back up, but then fight the temptation.
“And the attraction seems to remain,” The doctor goes on. She takes turns looking back and forth between the two of us. “I see it in both of you. The procedure always works better if there is an attraction from the start.”
She is correct about the attraction. I feel it too, but I also feel embarrassed about it. No words are necessary. She can see it in my expression, as can Richard.
“What do you say, Richard?” The doctor thankfully turns her attention away from me, but then shocks me with what she says next. “Would you be interested in fucking Katie?”
I first think I must be hearing things.
“Very much interested,” Richard answers and leaves no doubt.
I am left in shock and dismay. I can’t believe it! First one and then the other, I can’t believe how casual she asks him and then how casual he answers back. They act as if they talk like this all the time, like I am far from the first. I wonder how many other patients he “treated.”
“Of course you are,” The doctor accepts as if it should be obvious. “Just look at her. Cute face, thin frame, short stature, I must say she is an overall well proportioned young woman.”
I feel like a side of beef in a supermarket.
“And then there are her heavy breasts,” The doctor adds. “I know what you really like about her! Every man is turned on by a set of oversized female breasts.” She gives a laugh.
Once again I am tempted to bring my hands up to cover myself. He looks right at them, I notice, directly at my boobs. Mostly I turn and look away, finding it difficult to return his gaze, but still I feel his eyes upon me. I also recall the design of the bra and the way it offers so little support. My looking away gives him a side-profile, an even better view. He needs little imagination to picture me without any top at all.
I fight the temptation and keep my hands at my side. I try to remember I am only one amongst thousands he has seen before. Richard is vastly more experienced than me. Plus, seeing me in a swimsuit is just the beginning. If he gets to give me the “treatment,” then he will be seeing me in a lot less: Not only on top, but on the bottom too. He will naturally need to see me exposed down there too, so I need not feel embarrassed about showing myself in a suit.
“And what about you?” Dr. Palin turns her attention to me before I have much of a chance to think about it. “What do you think, Katie? Would you being interested in getting fucked by this handsome stud male?”
“Please!” I can’t answer. I try to tell her to stop. I can’t believe she uses the word, and she uses it right in front of him! She acts as if he isn’t even in the room.
“No need to be shy,” She ignores my concern. “Tell me Katie, are you attracted to Richard? How do you feel about him taking his turn at fucking you?”
Again her crude language! I can’t believe it, although she doesn’t seem bothered by it. Neither does Richard. They both act as if her language is perfectly normal.
“Or do you prefer the male you met on your previous visit?” She goes on to ask when I don’t answer. “I believe it was Jason, if I recall correctly. I could tell you were also attracted to him. You have your choice. I have about two-dozen males to choose from. Richard is much more gentle than Jason, or perhaps you like them rough?”
“I don’t know,” I say finally. “Both of them, I mean, I don’t know,” I answer shyly, feeling strange about being asked about my attraction to a guy while he stands right in front of me.
“Or perhaps you are one of those women who would prefer both of them at once,” The doctor offers next. “Some women prefer two at a time, to take turns with them. It actually could assist in the procedure. Additional sperm to get you pregnant more quickly.”
I can’t believe what she suggests. Two men, both Jason and Richard, both at once? I can hardly believe it. I also can’t help but consider what it would be like to sleep with both at once, both in the same bed, although I certainly wouldn’t be getting much sleep. I imagine one of them fucking me while I play my hands upon the other.
A moment later I shake my head in an attempt to get rid of the thought. “Oh no!” I say louder than I need to. “I’m not into anything like that!”
“Very well,” The doctor throws up her hands like she doesn’t care. “But perhaps you will have a change of opinion part-way through the treatments. I’ve always found it shocking what some of my patients are willing to try after just a few treatments.”
I don’t doubt it. It already gives me a thrill, the thought of having two men at once. I recall a provocative picture a girlfriend once sent me in my e-mail. It showed a woman being taken by two men at once. She had a man at each end, one between her legs and the other in her mouth. It was one of the most provocative pictures I ever saw, and now I can’t help but imagine myself in the same position: Jason at my waist while I suck Richard in front.
“In any case, I am getting ahead of myself,” The doctor erases the image from my mind by reminding me of my husband. “Before I will allow you to do anything, you need to get your husband to agree. I only allow the treatments to begin if the husband is in full agreement.”
“My husband?” I had almost forgotten about him. “Oh yes, of course. Maybe he’s outside. Perhaps I should check.” I suddenly feel guilty over what I am wearing. I feel even more guilty about the thoughts I am having.
“Don’t worry about your husband right now,” She makes no attempt to check for me. “That is why I wanted to introduce you to another of my inseminators: to give you a further incentive to convince your husband. I thought once you had a look at Richard in addition to Jason, you would be more aggressive about convincing him.”
“But how?” I want to be more aggressive. All my life I have been passive. My mother was the same way. I was taught early on that the husband was the master of the household, and the wife more a servant.
“I’m sure you will think of something,” The doctor offers no specific recommendation. “You just need the right incentive.”
She says it in a suggestive tone. I fail to understand her intent, at least at first. She points, I notice, like she plays some sort of game. She acts like a teacher trying to give me a hint on a test, and only then do I notice where she points.
It appears part-way down in front, his sweatpants, part way down from his waist. It appears obvious, impossible to miss. I don’t know how I could have missed it before, but I certainly see it now.
“Oh my!” I can’t help but speak out loud. I feel embarrassed about seeing it. I should turn away, I know. A proper young woman would. She would close her eyes and look away out of embarrassment. At the very least, he should cover himself. Richard should bring his hands forward or turn away from his own embarrassment, yet he doesn’t.
Neither one of us does anything. He stays standing and faces forward. I at the same time continue to look. The bulge remains, and then I notice how far down the front of the sweatpants it appears. Not at his waist, but a substantial distance below. It extends seemingly a quarter of the way down to his knees. Not straight down because it can’t extend straight. It extends below his crotch and to the side, part way down his right leg.
I am first amazed by his size, but then figure it must be some kind of trick. He must have something else in his sweatpants, I figure, perhaps one of those magic markers sticking out of his pants pocket. Yet the sweatpants don’t have pockets, and the bulge is far too big to be a pen. It looks more like the size of a sausage. I can’t believe any man could possibly be so long.
“And it appears you are somewhat attracted to him as well,” Dr. Palin concludes. “Or at least you are attracted to a certain part of him?”
She asks in the form of a question. I know what she means, but I can’t answer.
“The answer appears to be yes, then?” She doesn’t need to wait for an answer. “Or do you want to ask more questions before you can answer?”
I don’t know what to say. I am left dumbfounded. It is all happening so fast. She is right, of course, but no way can I come right out and admit my obvious attraction to him, not with him standing so close and able to hear me. I’m not that kind of girl.
“I don’t know,” I answer instead. “I don’t even know him.”
“What else do you need to know?” The doctor asks back. “Just look at him. What else matters? Can’t you already see all you need to know about this male stud?”
The doctor treats the young man as if he is a sex object, as a stud male to be used however she wants. At the same time, he remains standing unaffected. I get the impression Richard isn’t a person, but more like an object for us women to enjoy.
“Or perhaps you would like to see more of him,” Dr. Palin offers. “Perhaps this isn’t enough and you want to see more of what this stud has to offer.”
She gets up from her chair and steps behind him. She positions her hands on either side of his waist. Then, fitting her fingers inside the elastic waist strap of the sweatpants, she jerks them clean down.
I have no time to react. It happens fast. So fast I don’t realize it until it happens. One second he stands before me wearing the sweatpants, and a second later he wears nothing at all.
“Oh my gosh!” I cry out at the sight of his full frontal nudity. I feel like getting up and running out of the room. At the very least, I expect him to run out. He should at least use his hands to cover his modesty.
Instead, he does nothing. Neither do I. I just sit there open mouthed and wide eyed and look. He has a lot to look at. I can’t help but notice. It pokes straight out, and it pokes out so far. The thing looks to be nearly a foot long, ten inches at least. Richard looks great without clothing! Most men do, but Richard looks exceptional. I immediately see why she calls him a stud. I also see why he is so talented at the job he does.
“Well?” Dr. Palin looks to me and asks. “What do you think of him? Do you like him better this way?”
I can’t answer. I can’t say anything at all. My mouth refuses to work. I sit in shock and simply look at him. He looks three times the size of my husband. It looks even bigger than I have seen in pictures. My hand would be able to hold only half his length. It would take two hands, in fact, to hold him, one on top of the other like a baseball bat, and still I would not be able to encompass all of him.
And not only long, but I see he is massively thick in girth as well. No way would my fingers be able to encompass him all the way around. Even if I squeezed to get them to fit, the tips of my fingers would come far from touching.
And to top it off, I see his top. The head of his cock forms into a giant mushroom top. It looks far too thick to enter me. No way could I be opened so far down there. It looks too thick to even enter my mouth, and then I think of taking him in my mouth and sucking him.
I suddenly realize what my own meager clothing has done to him. He obviously finds me attractive. I can tell he likes what he sees, my own near-nudity. I appreciate the compliment.
“Or perhaps I should ask you more precisely,” The doctor interrupts my thoughts with another direct question. “What do you think of his cock? I told you he was attracted to you. What do you think of his size?”
I hardly hear the question. Yes, indeed he is attracted to me, and he seems to be getting more attractive by the second. Not just poking straight out, but growing ever larger. It is actually rising. I can see it for myself.
“I thought so,” The doctor reads my mind. She has no need to wait for me to give her a verbal response. She can see it in my eyes, the way I keep them pointed at the rising phallus before me. I watch it rise. I watch him rise. And he keeps rising.
“Try to imagine what it would feel like to have him inside you,” The doctor tempts as I look. “His entire length, drilled down deep inside. I assure you size really does make a difference. A cock of that size will give you an orgasm you’ll never forget.”
I do think of it. He would feel terrific inside me, all the way inside. I picture him on top, fucking me, drilling in deeper than my husband can possibly go. Twice per day, every day, I think what a thrill it would be to get fucked by such a large man.
“Or imagine him mounting you from behind,” The doctor goes on. “Imagine yourself bent over this table and with Richard pounding you from behind. Did you know a male can enter you deeper when he mounts you?”
My imagination switches to a new scene. I think what it would be liked to be mounted like an animal, taken from behind by this big man. My imagination goes into overdrive. The thoughts going through my head are putting me in heat.
“Or perhaps you are one of those women who likes to ride her stud from above,” The doctor doesn’t let up. “Maybe you would like to have him lie down while you squat over him from above. Some women prefer it that way. It gives them more control. Are you the type who likes control?”
I can hardly withstand her words. They sound so dirty, and they make me feel so aroused. The sight of his rising cock serves to arouse me more. I imagine Richard taking me in all three positions, even taking him from above. It would be the same as what I saw in the exam room down the hall. I’ve hardly ever sat up on a man before. My husband didn’t like it. It would be fun to turn the tables and ride a big cock from above.
“Whatever position you prefer,” The doctor interrupts my pleasant thoughts. “You’ll get to try all of them. All my males are well practiced in multiple sexual positions. They probably even know some positions you never considered yourself. They will carry out their job using whatever position you prefer the most.”
She eventually concludes. So does Richard. He stands with a full erection. His cock stands upright, pointed towards the sky. It extends up from his waist, past his stomach. And not only long, but so thick and massive too. I have never before seen a cock of such large proportions, not even in pictures. I have a hard time accepting the sight before me. It is like going to a male strip joint where the male gives an erection to his audience.
“Well, how do you like him now?” The doctor asks me a minute later.
She first waits in silence to give me plenty of time to look. I surprise myself at how much I look. I would normally be embarrassed at the sight of a naked male in the same room. I should look away, I know, and act shy. I am not the type of girl who would look, but then Richard is so much more than a normal male.
“He’s big,” I eventually conclude after looking a minute more. I say the only thing I can say. She doesn’t need to ask the question. My attraction is obvious.
“Of course he’s big,” The doctor looks at him too. “He’s got it where it counts. He is well endowed, as you can perfectly well see for yourself, as are all my boys, but I didn’t ask about his endowment. I asked you if you liked him? I hope you like them big.”
I nod my head in agreement. Indeed I do like him. I like them big. All women do. I would also like to experience him, feel him inside me, but then wonder if I would even be capable of experiencing such a big man. He looks almost too big. I have a hard time seeing how he would fit. So much raw cock might end up hurting me, and it would be no fun if he hurt me.
“In any case,” The doctor eventually rises up out of her chair. I automatically stand too, thinking the meeting over.
“Please,” She motions me to stay in place. “I want to go out front and check if your husband has arrived. In the meantime, why don’t the two of you get to know each other. You may also want to ask him some personal questions, I suspect, so I’m going to leave you alone for a while just to talk.”
I am taken aback. Mention of my husband fills me with guilt, and then her leaving makes me worried.
“You have nothing to worry about,” Dr. Palin seems to read my thoughts. “Just go ahead and ask him anything you want. You don’t need to talk at all, not if you don’t want to.” She steps towards the door. “But I suggest you do. I recommend you ask him whatever you would like to know. Most of my patients feel more comfortable if they first get to know the male who will be administering the treatments. It’s natural for a woman to first get to know the male who will impregnate her.”
I briefly consider the possibility of following her. Richard makes me nervous. He could hurt me. Given his strength, he could even force himself upon me, but then he wouldn’t have to.
“And who knows,” The doctor adds just before she closes the door behind her. “Richard might even have some ideas on how to convince your husband on the treatment.”
And with that, she leaves us. Before I fully realize what has happen, I find myself alone in a room with a naked man. But not just any naked man, but with Richard. I can’t quite believe the situation I find myself in.
I don’t know what to say. I feel embarrassed. My voice freezes. Her suggestion makes sense, but I also want her to stay. Never before have I been in a room with a naked man, not like this. My husband, yes, but not a man like Richard. What is a woman supposed to say to a naked man? Talking about the weather seems out of place.
He continues to stand right in front of me. He continues to stand naked. Not only naked, but with a full and powerful erection. I take occasional glances at it. His cock is hard not to notice. Sitting back down on the exam table brings it closer to my eyes.
“This is a little uncomfortable,” I start by telling him.
“That’s perfectly understandable,” He says at last. The sound of his voice actually calms me. I start to turn more relaxed.
“For both of us,” I add, suddenly thinking about how much more uncomfortable it must be for him. At least I’m wearing clothes. Still not much, but at least I am wearing something.
“Tell me,” I try to strike up a conversation. “How long…”
Before I have a chance to finish my sentence, he answers: “Eleven inches.”
I jump in surprise. Immediately I know what he refers to, and he could actually be correct. His cock looks just about that long.
“Actually,” I correct myself. “I was going to ask how long you’ve been doing this job,” I complete my sentence, feeling embarrassed.
“Oh!” He smiles with embarrassment as well. “I just assumed you wanted to know my length. That’s the first question most women ask of me.”
“Well, yes,” I have to admit. “There’s that too.”
Eleven inches! I pause to consider his answer. It is confirmed. He is over twice the length of my husband. I wonder if he might even be too long for me. Might he hurt me? Might he only be able to go in half-way?
“Three years,” He eventually answers the question I intended. “I was working as a dancer at the time, at a male strip club when the doctor discovered me.”
“Male strip club?” I automatically ask back. “They really exist?”
“Of course,” He answers like it should be obvious. “Not as common as your female strip joints, but every large city has a place for the women too.”
I heard about such places but had never been to one. The sight of the massive male standing in front of me makes me want to go to the nearest club. I wonder if all the male strippers are as big as he is. I figure not, but then start to wonder. Logically, they might just be larger than normal. Female strippers tend to have large breasts, so why not the same with male strippers? I imagine Richard modeling his large tool in front of a room full of screaming women, and then get the erotic idea of him modeling it in an erect state as well.
“So that’s how the doctor found out about you,” I shake the thought out of my mind. “I mean, that’s how she found out about your size?”
“She witnessed me on stage,” He confirms. “I got a call the next day from the doctor. She said I met her minimum qualification.”
I smile, seeing his most important qualification. I wonder what the doctor considers a minimum. Ten inches? Or maybe all the way down to nine? I figure all the men in her clinic are about the same size.
“That was three years ago,” He goes on. “I’ve been working for her ever since.”
“So no more stripping?” I assume, thinking of the tremendous loss it would be for all those screaming women.
“Actually, I still strip some on weekends,” He admits to my surprise. “Some extra income, you know.”
I am tempted to ask where. I would like to go and watch him, to witness him on stage, strutting around and modeling naked. Maybe I could even talk one of my friends into going along. It would be fun to point him out on stage. I could brag to my girlfriend that I once saw him with an erection.
Speaking of his erection, it remains. It keeps pointing straight up into the air, firm and so hard. Throughout our conversation, it remains. I am impressed by his stamina, and then wonder how much my small bikini has to do with it. He obviously finds me attractive, I can see.
He catches me staring at it.
“Would you like to take a feel?” He asks while I stare.
“Feel?” I don’t think I heard him correctly.
“You look like you want to grab it,” He tells me in no uncertain terms.
“Oh no!” I jump with a start. “I couldn’t!”
“Because you can if you want,” He offers. “That’s what most of the doctor’s other patients ask of me next.”
“I don’t know if I could,” I reject him.
“They ask to feel me up,” He goes on like he doesn’t hear me. “They want to check my hardness, see how firm it is, examine my length. They want to check if it’s real, see if all of it is really me.”
“Oh, it’s hard,” I say without thinking. “I mean, I can see how hard it is,” I attempt to rephrase my answer and only embarrass myself more.
At the same time, I am tempted to take him up on his offer. It would be exhilarating to feel him up, to touch him. I am more accustomed to guys wanting to feel me. They used to, back when I was younger, like in High School. They were anxious to feel my large breasts, some even on the first date and before we got to know each other. It would so much turn me off. I suppose that was part of the reason why I elected to get married so young. I was tired of so many men lusting after me. I wanted to be seen as more than a sex object.
Now I know what tempted them. Looking at Richard, I am tempted to feel him up in the same way, to know what his monstrosity might actually feel like. I wonder if that’s the way all my old boyfriends felt about me.
“Are you sure?” He tempts further. “It really would be all right. I’ve had thousands of women feel me up. Every night they used to feel me when I worked in the club.”
I am surprised to hear about anyone feeling him up at the club. I thought touching was forbidden, or perhaps that was only at female strip clubs. I wonder if the laws might not yet have caught up with males doing the stripping.
“Well,” I start to give in.
“Go ahead,” He steps closer, giving me easier access.
“I suppose I could,” I can hardly believe my own words. Already my hand reaches for it. It reaches almost of its own accord, not needing to think about it. I hardly think at all as my hand reaches out to him.
I sit while he stands, and he stands only about a foot in front of me. He stands within easy reaching distance. My hand has but a short gap to travel. A moment later I find my fingers upon him.
“Oh my!” I automatically say in response.
He shows no reaction. No flinch, no jump, he doesn’t even take a step back when I touch. Neither does he say anything. If anyone flinches, it is I. Richard appears perfectly accustomed to the hand of a woman upon his generous male appendage.
I touch it on the side. I touch with just my fingers, pull back a brief moment, and then touch it again.
“Oh my!” I voice out loud and grow more comfortable with the second touch, comfortable enough to run my fingers up and down along the side, feeling it.
“Oh my gosh!” I can’t believe it. “It’s so big!”
I look as I touch, looking down at myself, watching my own fingers as they feel him. Still he doesn’t flinch. I can hardly believe the scene before me. My fingers appear so small compared to his size. He looks so much bigger than my husband, not only twice as long but twice in girth as well.
At the same time I look, it looks back up at me; that is, his cock. The bulbous head of his enormous cock points directly back up at me, looking at me, seeming almost to stare. Its single big eye points up at my face; no, lower, more to my extended breasts. I no longer feel so naked. At least I am more clothed than he.
I continue to feel. I am memorized by how hard it feels, like a bone, like a real “boner,” a name it so much deserves. I am particularly enthralled when my fingers travel further up his length and slip against the lip of the mushroom tip surrounding the head. My own husband is circumcised. I am surprised by how smooth the top of his cock feels. Hard also, but at the same time so smooth. It gives the impression of being designed to smoothly penetrate a woman.
“Wow!” I tell him. “That really is impressive.”
“I’m glad you like it,” He answers back.
The sound of his voice gives me a start. It was as though I forgot he was alive. All that existed was his cock. It still exists. I continue to feel it.
“It’s so much bigger,” I start to tell him and then stammer. “I mean, compared to my husband.”
“Of course it is,” He knows what I am trying to say. “That’s what all of Doctor Palin’s patients say.”
“It might be too big!” I say with worry, judging the size, thinking mostly of the bulbous head.
“Certainly not!” He assures me, much to my relief. “You will be surprised.”
I allow my fingers to travel over the head of his cock. So smooth and yet so hard, I can’t help but imagine it parting me open and diving deep inside. It will be sure to feel incredible going inside me. I must make a renewed effort to talk my husband into going along with the treatment. I think of talking to him as soon as I get home, maybe scolding him for not coming along. As I handle the cock, I find myself wanting to do whatever I can to get my husband to agree.
“You can handle it harder if you want!” The sound of his words bring me back to reality. “Most women like to be rough with it.”
“Rough?” His choice of words shock me.
“With my cock,” He clarifies.
I consider being rough. I briefly think about being a lot rougher. I think about moving it around, squeezing it, maybe even making it spring up and down. The thoughts running through my mind make my heart start to race, but then I realize it has already been racing. It races with excitement and lust.
“Try not to think of my cock as belonging to me,” He suggests next, his words again exciting me. “Imagine it instead as your own personal plaything.”
“Plaything?” I like this idea too. “Do you mean like a toy?”
“Very much like a toy,” He tells me. “A toy for a big girl to play with.”
I like the sound of this, of his cock as my personal plaything. I would like his cock to play with. I already am playing with it. First the long shaft, and now I play with the swollen mushroom head. I haven’t played with many cocks. Certainly I never played with a cock of such large proportions. I find myself wanting to play with his cock a lot more, like every night for three weeks straight.
He says nothing in response, so I instead decide to take him up on his offer. I reach my fingers around to grasp him in the palm of my hand.
“Damn!” I can’t help but compliment. My fingers don’t even reach all the way around. “I’m not used to this,” I warn him.
“You’re doing fine,” He reassures with calm. “You’ll get used to it.”
Actually, I hope I never get used to it. I don’t ever want the thrill, the exhilaration of such a big cock to wear off. I squeeze it in my hand to try to touch my fingers on the far side, but it’s not even close. His cock is too damn hard to squeeze. My fingers refuse to sink in.
I squeeze harder when he doesn’t object, and then even harder still when he still doesn’t say anything. I figure he would tell me to stop if I tried squeezing too hard. He did give the offer for me to be rough with it, after all. I’m only taking him up on his offer.
He refuses to complain even when I squeeze down with all my strength. Still, my fingers won’t touch on the far side. He requires two hands, which gives me an idea. And then I figure, why not?
I release the grip with one hand so to move it further down and place the other hand on top of it. Only when I hold him with two hands do I fully appreciate his long length. Indeed he does take two hands. I hold one at the base of his cock, the next just above it. Still, the mushroom head of the thing sticks above. It feels like I am back in grade school, playing baseball, putting alternative hands up around the bat in a bid for who gets to hit first.
Still he says nothing to indicate he objects, so now I use both hands to squeeze both at the same time. Only then do I notice it.
“Oh my!” I momentarily relieve my grip at the sight. It occurs at the very tip of his cock, at the eye. I notice the clear fluid leak out.
“What is it?” He asks.
“Nothing!” I quickly respond, not wanting him to know, but then of course he must know. I wonder if he feels it. I also wonder what will happen if I squeeze him again, and then feel a tremendous desire to find out.
With both hands, I work his cock. A larger drop oozes out on my second attempt. It spills up and out of the eye, and then it slowly drools down the side. I can’t believe I am actually making him pre-cum.
“Should I stop?” I worry he might want me to.
“Not if you don’t want to,” He offers me to keep going.
I squeeze on his cock some more, and then give it a quick little jerk to prod it along. The strategy works, and he pre-cums more prodigious amounts.
“I’m thinking I should stop,” I offer again after I feel it. The pre-cum becomes too much for his cock to contain. It flows down the side and touches my fingers. It feels oily. It feels nice. I desire to feel more, but stop anyway.
“I should definitely stop,” I let go and pull my hands away to look at it. His cock seems harder than before, even bigger, sticking up further. His size astounds me. Even better, the mushroom tip glistens with moisture, his moisture and what I have done to him. Even after I let go, I notice it continue to flow out and down the length. The sight makes me want to grab hold again. I have made him slick and slippery. I have prepared his cock for me. All I can think of is my dildo and the same slick look right before I push it in and turn it on.
“You stopped?” He says in the form of a question, as if surprised I did so. “Why did you stop playing?”
Again his choice of words: “playing.” Indeed I had been playing with it. A big girl playing with her big toy.
“I figured I should,” I feel embarrassed to tell him. “I mean, you know…” I let my words trail off.
“You don’t need to stop,” He offers. “You can play with it all you want.”
Again his choice of words: “play with it.” I consider what I am doing, and then I realize what I am doing. Indeed, I am playing with his cock. I’ve never before played with a cock, not such a large cock.
“If you really don’t mind?” I give him a way out.
“I don’t mind,” He assures. “I am yours to play with all you want. Dr. Palin wants you to get to know me.”
I feel both reluctant and have so much desire. I can’t believe what has happened to me. Here is a naked man, a man with the biggest cock I have ever seen, and he invites me to play my fingers upon it. I so much want to play, yet at the same time feel it wrong. The desire eventually wins out. I reach for him again, and this time grasp my hand around the base of the oiled shaft.
“Oh my!” I move my hand through it. Only one hand, I move it up the length of his impressive member and then back down again. I’ve done this before, of course, with my husband and a few select boyfriends back in High School; but never before with someone so large. Richard is as big as two of my old boyfriends put together, perhaps three of my husband’s. He feels like so much more. He feels more and more oiled with each stroke of my hand.
Suddenly, I have a thought. A dirty, nasty thought dances upon my mind. More than a thought; more like an image. I imagine what it would look like if I made Richard cum. The thought fills me with desire. I imagine him rearing back, extend out his waist, and then cum with in a long stream of thick, white cream. I imagine him doing it several times, shooting three or maybe four times. It would be great to see such a large man doing it. I’ve always enjoyed the sight of a man reaching climax, but Richard would be astounding.
“You can play harder if you want,” One nasty thought is interrupted by another.
It takes me a moment to realize he speaks to me. The man who’s cock I hold in my hand is actually capable of speaking.
“Harder?” I ask back, confused. He seems about as hard as he can get.
“I mean faster,” He clarifies, and then adds as if worried he might have insulted me. “But then it’s totally up to you. You can play with me however you want.”
I realize how gentle I am behaving. I stroke slow, twist my hand around his cock even slower. He is probably not accustomed to a girl playing so gentle, almost cautious with him. Most probably go wild with desire and lust.
Eventually, I do stroke faster. I attempt to push it to the side. Next, I try to pull it down so it points straight out. I soon find myself dragging over the chair from the corner of the room and positioning it right in front of him so I can play. The chair also gives me a better view, placing my eyes level with his waist, only inches from his huge cock. I take a close-up look at it while I masturbate it.
Chapter 2: Discussion
All week I felt like I was walking on a tightrope, knowing I couldn’t appear too anxious, but at the same time I was desperate to return to Jason. He was all I could think about during the week. His handsome face, that muscular body, and the huge bulge he sported in his sweatpants. I kept thinking about what he might look like without the pants, undressed, naked, exposed with all he had to offer. I wondered what he sported down there, how long he could be, what kind of size he might really have. And then I couldn’t help but think what I would feel like as he used it on me, opening me wide, driving deep inside, and doing it over and over again. The anticipation of an intense orgasm filled my imagination. And forty-two times! I could hardly believe it possible. The doctor made mention of an hour long session too. A whole hour! Maybe she meant the additional time to check in, maybe sit in the waiting room and wait, and then for me to get undressed and ready for him as well. That must have been what she meant. I can’t imagine myself being pounded for that long.
Thoughts filled my mind on how he would do it. Would Dr. Palin require a particular position for us to perform the dirty deed? Would it be traditional intercourse with him on top? Or might she require something more exotic, like with me bent over and with Jason pounding me from behind? I once heard a guy could insert himself deeper if he did it from behind, but then Jason would have no trouble with depth. Or would the entire procedure be treated as somehow more clinical, more like a professional medical procedure. The doctor did mention a medical procedure several times to my husband. Is that the way it would be administered, as nothing more than a procedure, where he would simply enter me and go to work? I wouldn’t mind even that, but then I can’t help but wonder about foreplay too. How much would we get to know each other first? Would there be any hugging? Any kissing? What about feeling each other up? I suppose it wouldn’t be necessary for either of us to get naked, not entirely. There would be no need for me to take off my top, although I hope I would get to. Jason was one guy who I wouldn’t mind if he saw my boobs. Better yet, I fantasize his hands encompassed around both breasts, his fingers squeezed deep into my big mounds.
All the fantastic thoughts running through my head made it difficult to get much sleep the first two nights after the appointment. I had trouble concentrating the next two days at work too. On the third day, Thursday, I left work early, took sick leave because I felt so exhausted. At the same time, I felt so horny. My husband had tried to bring me some relief the night before, but it wasn’t nearly enough. I went home to retrieve an old cigar box full of a few seldom used mementoes from my younger days, hidden deep in the attic, under the insulation. In the box I kept an old diary, a few love letters from an old boyfriend, and of course, the dildo. I hadn’t used it for years, but for the rest of the afternoon made up for lost time. I used it on myself right there up in the dark attic, before my husband came home from work. Only afterwards was I able to go to bed and get a solid 8 hours sleep through the night.
Now the need is building again. Jason fills my thoughts once more. I imagine his big cock, wondering if he is bigger than my dildo, and then fantasize about it plunging deep inside me some more. The dildo brought satisfaction, but I know Jason’s big cock will bring a lot more. The real thing is always better than a piece of plastic, and the fact he will have to fuck me in the bare excites me even more. No plastic rubber to get in the way, not if he intends to impregnate me. I sigh at the thought of his bare skin against my own.
To make the past week even worse, my husband never talked about it. He never brought it up. It’s like he tried to temp me, tease me into making the first move. I didn’t dare do so, fearing it would give away my own interest, and so held my tongue and let the lust simmer deep inside me. Or perhaps he already saw the lust, the desire in my eyes, the need in my body? We’ve been married six years. Two people can really get to know each other in that time. He was always able to read me well, sometimes too well. I fear he already knows what I am thinking.
I did make one mistake late in the week. It was in my outfit, in the way I was dressed for work that day. Or rather, it was in the way I was partially dressed when I got home. I had forgotten all about it, not remembering until he brought it to my attention. Over our Friday night dinner, after a long day at work, and after the satisfaction from the previous afternoon’s delights, he asked if I was chilly. Only then did I recall the two extra buttons open down the front of my uniform.
As an excuse, I made up an elaborate lie. I told him they were having trouble with the air conditioner at work. Several times I had to escape to the back alley to cool off. It was so hot I had to open a few buttons on my blouse, and then I opened them again at the end of the day. I even made up a story about the problem being with the air conditioner in the kitchen. The customers might not have even noticed.
The additional exposure produced an interesting side-benefit at work. Besides the increased tips, it also served to effectively relieve my lust by displaying it off to others. I received several compliments during the dinner shift. A couple of times I noticed customers look down into my blouse. Usually they stood over me. Twice I caught myself bending down low in front of a table. Some of the cooks complimented me too, asked if I lost weight or was working out. The affect proved intoxicating, like a drug to help me survive.
Now I need more of it.
We have a return appointment scheduled with the doctor. She gave us a week to think about it. My husband and I were supposed to talk in private, discuss it with one another. We were then to return and provide our final decision. The receptionist at the front counter of Dr. Palin’s office encouraged me to return. He said it in a whisper to me when we left, while my husband busied himself filling out some kind of credit form. I got the distinct impression that the receptionist might have served as yet another inseminator. He certainly had the looks to do so, a well-built guy every bit as handsome as Jason. A few minutes later on the way home I wondered if he also held the equipment to do so.
Our week is almost up. Our return appointment is for the afternoon and at 3:00 PM. I wait until the last possible moment before I talk about it.
“I told them at work about taking some time off,” I tell my husband over a bowl of breakfast cereal. “I assumed we were still going, if that’s all right with you?”
He turns from the paper with a confused expression on his face. “Appointment?” He questions before a light suddenly goes on somewhere inside. “Oh, yes! Dr. Palin!” He remembers.
I can’t believe he ever forgot. He goes back to the paper without giving me an answer.
“I assume we are still going,” I repeat. “I figure we owe her at least that much, to at least keep our appointment and not cancel out at the last minute.”
“Of course,” He agrees without looking up. Whatever article he is reading, it has his full attention.
I hold back my exuberance. There will be plenty of time to celebrate later, like maybe even in the doctor’s office. One step at a time, and the first step is done. At least we will return to the doctor. And to Jason! I am anxious to see him and also the receptionist too. The simple act of meeting them would greatly relieve my anxiety. The act of having sex with either one of them would relieve it a lot more.
“Still interested?” My husband disturbs this pleasant thought with a question. He puts down the paper and goes back to his coffee and cereal. That’s all he ever has for breakfast, his newspaper, a bowl of cereal, and two cups of coffee. I’ve tried to get him to eat more, like some fruit. It would be more healthy, plus give him more energy for the rest of the day. It might even help his performance in the evening as well.
“You mean the procedure?” I ask stupidly in reply, trying not to show interest.
“Of course that’s what I mean!” He speaks to me like an idiot child.
I take little offense at his remark, having long ago gotten accustomed to it. He always behaves short in the morning, crabby, impatient with everyone around him. I sometimes feel sorry for his coworkers who will soon have to face him.
In response to his question, I shrug my shoulders and feint disinterest. “You know how much I want to have children,” I remind him. “And I know how much you would like a son to keep the family name.”
He nods in agreement.
“And it sounds like the procedure would be a perfectly logical way of getting what both of us want,” I continue when he doesn’t respond. “I was a little shocked at first, but the more I think about it the more I like the idea. Completely natural. Very safe. What could possibly go wrong?”
He doesn’t answer me, but instead finishes the last of his coffee and stands up. “So you’re in favor of it?” He asks.
“Only if you are,” I worry about showing too much interest. “It has to be a joint decision, like the doctor said. And I still have some questions for the doctor before I agree to anything.”
“Like what?” He stands there and asks.
“Like if I can catch anything,” I give him an example. “I mean those men she uses have been with a lot of women. How do I know they don’t have a disease? They could have VD! They might have something a lot worse.”
“And I don’t want Jason to hurt me,” I add. “What the doctor said about his size worries me. Size isn’t supposed to make a difference, but I’m such a small girl. What if Jason’s too big for me?”
I say the words but don’t really believe them. In fact, I hope he is too big. I want him to be a tight fit, to stretch me wide, to penetrate a lot deeper than I have ever been penetrated before. Size really isn’t suppose to make a difference, or so I am told, but I can’t help but think his large size will allow me to feel every inch of him.
“Jason?” My husband asks back, confused. “Who’s Jason?”
I am also confused, for an instant, but then realize the problem. My husband doesn’t remember the name. I probably shouldn’t have used it.
“He’s the guy she introduced us to,” I remind him. “You know, in the doctor’s office. You’ve always been terrible at remembering names.”
“Oh yes!” Now he remembers. He really has always been terrible with names.
“What about you?” I quick ask his same question back before he leaves. “It has to be a joint decision between us. It can’t just be me.”
He picks up the bag lunch I packed for him while he was still getting ready in the shower.
“I’ll meet you there,” He answers without answering. “I’ll be coming in direct from work, so no need to come home first.”
“I’ll call before I leave,” I finish my own breakfast as he walks out the door. While I would have preferred an answer, the simple fact he is willing to return for a second appointment satisfies me enough for the time being. I don’t give it much hope, but at least the hope is still alive.
Chapter 1: First Appointment
I let my husband do most of the talking. It was his idea, after all. Talk of artificial insemination scares me. From the start, I was against it. Some couples are meant not to have children — That’s my philosophy. If God didn’t mean two people to bear children, then maybe they shouldn’t. Too many people populate the world already, more than our natural resources can support. Why do you think we have global warming? What about the energy crisis, food shortages, pollution? The cause of all these problems is, fundamentally, more people than what our natural resources can support.
Plus, I also admit, I’m not particularly fond of the idea of having to go through a medical procedure. Doctors have always made me nervous. Just the thought of visiting the family physician makes my pulse race and my blood pressure rise. All those white lab coats, stainless steel instruments, the smell of antiseptic in the air; the combination of it all gives me the willies. And then there’s the medical procedure itself, which frightens me even more, especially when it will involve at least two procedures: First to harvest my eggs and then another to have them inserted back into me — and that’s only if it works the first time. What if it doesn’t? What if we have to try again and again? For all these reasons, I was against the idea of artificial insemination to have a baby, until now.
“What does your wife think?” The doctor asks from behind her desk.
Someone finally recognizes my presence. My husband can be a bit overbearing at times. He’s done most of the talking so far. Not just in this doctor’s office, but he sometimes does it around our friends too, answering for me, telling others what I think. He treats me like a child at times, so I am thankful when she turns to get my opinion.
The doctor is not what I expected. First of all, she is a woman. My husband is not the type to go to a female doctor. In fact, I’m surprised he didn’t turn around and walk right back out of her office as soon as she introduced herself. Second, the doctor looks nothing like a doctor. Instead of a white lab coat — or scrubs, as I guess they call it — she dresses in professional business attire. A light blue blouse and slacks, very stylish, and with her hair bunched up on the top of her head to give her the look of a professional. I have a hard time picturing her in a hospital gown or operating room. She more resembles a schoolteacher, like as in a strict teacher not afraid to use the ruler.
Up until now, the conversation has been mostly between her and my husband. My only words were a weak “hi” and a “glad to meet you” when we first walked into her office. I felt too nervous and scared to say anything more. I still am.
“She’s still thinking about it,” My husband initially answers for me, like he so often does. “She doesn’t like the idea of artificial insemination, and I don’t think she is going to like this idea of natural insemination either. First she needs to think about it before making any decisions.”
“Hold on!” I gently take his arm when I finally muster up courage enough to speak. He is a sweet man, my husband, but again acts overbearing. He was raised on a traditional Midwestern farm where the husband worked and the wife stayed in the kitchen. I guess that’s part of the reason why he is so adamant to have children. He somehow feels incomplete without them.
“Hold on?” He looks back at me in surprise. He is not accustomed to me speaking my mind. “Katie, what are you saying?”
I take a deep breath to relax my nerves. “I’m not saying anything. I’m just saying we should hear her out. Her idea might have potential. At least it won’t involve a doctor’s office and a bunch of laboratory equipment.”
A surprised look shows on his face. This was not the answer he expected. It was not the answer I expected to give either. The whole idea of natural insemination sounded crazy when I first heard it, that is, until I walked into Doctor Palin’s office.
“Are you sure?” He finally asks.
“I’m just saying we should hear her out,” I shyly admit. “I’d like to hear what she has to say.”
“But do you understand what it would involve?” He asks with worry.
“It was your idea,” I remind him under my breath so the stranger behind the desk can’t hear. “If you’re against it, then why did we bother to drive all the way downtown and take the afternoon off from work?”
The look of surprise on my husband’s face turns to thoughtfulness. He doesn’t answer, just looks at me with wonder.
“Would you like to continue?” Doctor Palin breaks the silence. She acts anxious, like she has a busy schedule, too busy to sit around listening to the two of us argue.
“Of course,” My husband quickly gives in. “We don’t need to make the final decision right now anyway.”
“Of course you don’t,” Doctor Palin agrees. “In fact, I recommend you discuss and give it several days thought before making any decision. This is an important decision, and you both need to be comfortable with it.”
My husband nods.
I follow his lead.
“Plus, there are a few blood tests you need to take before I can even consider you for the procedure,” She addresses her next words to me. “We take great care here at the clinic to protect our patients from any sexually transmitted diseases or infections. You must therefore be tested for a large suite of potential conditions, such as herpes, syphilis, hepatitis…”
“I can assure you…” My husband interrupts.
“I’m sure you can,” She interrupts right back at him. “Please, I don’t mean to suggest you sleep around or your wife is a whore,” She holds up her hand to stop him from interrupting any further. “It isn’t just for your benefit, but for the benefit of all my other patients as well, and also the benefit of the eventual child. Many of the conditions can be terribly contagious and cause birth defects. They are also difficult to eradicate. I’m sure you can appreciate the fact all my other patients were also tested.”
My husband wants to argue further, I can tell, but then I reach across to put my hand on his shoulder. I silently tell the man sitting next to me to drop it. The thought of me sleeping around like a common whore is laughable, and I would know if he was sleeping around.
“Now,” Doctor Palin soon goes on. She opens a folder and takes out a pen. “First there are several questions I need to ask you. This isn’t a procedure for just anyone. It won’t automatically work for just anybody pulled off the street. There are certain contributing factors, prior medical conditions, family history, etcetera that make it more likely to work for some couples and fail for others. So to ascertain your own success, I need to first ask some questions.”
I nod in response. We both do. This is the third doctor we have talked to about conceiving children, so I expect her to have questions. I even know what some of the questions will be, based on prior experience, or so I initially believe.
“Some of my questions may be a bit embarrassing,” The doctor turns to my husband and warns. “But please remember I am a doctor, and the questions are important for me to help determine the root cause of the problem.”
My husband nods again, looking very sure of himself, as if nothing could possibly embarrass him.
“About your size,” Doctor Palin immediately goes right to the point. She speaks in a professional tone. “How long are you, when erect?”
I jump at this question.
So does my husband. He takes offense. “What’s that got to do with anything?” He speaks louder than necessary.
“It has a great deal to do with everything,” Doctor Palin stays unperturbed. She continues speaking in a level tone of voice as if accustomed to every man having the same reaction. “The longer the length, the deeper the penetration, and therefore the closer to the egg the sperm is deposited. I would have assumed your regular doctor already asked you this.”
Size wasn’t supposed to make a difference, I thought, or at least that’s what I was always told. I don’t remember our regular doctor ever asking the same question, or the specialists in reproductive medicine either. Or at least they never asked my husband in my presence, which now makes me wonder if they ever asked him in private. Her explanation does seem to make some logical sense when I think about it.
“Well, um,” He is taken aback by her cool demeanor. “That is a bit personal, but if it’s important.”
“It is!” Doctor Palin assures him.
“Then I would say, maybe, a little less than five,” He answers, embarrassed.
“How much less than five?” The Doctor now turns to me instead.
“More like four-and-a-half,” I answer for him.
He scowls at me.
“Well, it’s true!” I scowl back. “You could have answered yourself.” I say it under my breath, so the doctor doesn’t hear. The smile on her face, however, tells me she heard perfectly.
“That could help explain part of your problem,” The smile disappears before my husband notices. “Perhaps this is simply a case were you are not of sufficient length to impregnate your wife? Normally it does not matter, but some women can be taken deeper than others.”
My husband takes offense at her remark, I can tell, but he doesn’t say anything. She insults his maleness, his ego, but does so with such professionalism he can’t muster a fight against her. For a brief moment, I worry he might get up, storm out of the room, and leave because it is the only thing he can do.
Before he can do anything, however, the Doctor casually returns to her list of questions. “Now about your girth,” She asks the next one. “Have you ever measured your circumference?”
Neither one of us says anything at first.
“When fully erect, of course,” She quickly adds as if to make sure we understand.
“Well, um,” My husband continues to hesitate. This time I know better than to answer for him, even after the doctor turns to me to question after he is not immediately forthcoming.
“I guess about four inches around,” He answers more accurately to this question.
“Very interesting as well,” Doctor Palin responds and writes it down. “A short length in combination with a small girth compounds the problem,” She speaks while looking at her paper. “It may not seem obvious, but a wide girth helps. It stimulates the response within the female body, and the more intense the response, the higher the production rate of female estrogen, which further increases the probability of a successful pregnancy. This could explain why you have not been able to get pregnant, although it is in no means the only explanation.”
No doctor ever told us this before. Perhaps that’s because all our other doctors were male. Or perhaps they talked to my husband about it in private. He might have been too embarrassed to tell me. I start to wonder, and then I quick try to remember to perhaps ask him about it later.
“And what about your stimulus?” The doctor interrupts my questioning thoughts to ask of me. “How often do you experience orgasm when the two of you have sex?”
It takes me a moment to realize she addresses the question to me. “Well, um,” It is now my turn to feel embarrassed. “Actually, I don’t normally.” Actually, I never do, hardly ever, but I’m not brave enough to say this with my husband sitting right beside me.
“Another point of interest!” Doctor Palin responds again. It seems to be her common response to every question. “And what about frequency? How often do the two of you have sex?”
At least this question is familiar. Our regular doctor and the reproductive specialists asked the same thing.
“Three times per week since we’ve been trying to have children,” My husband answers this question with more confidence. “We’ve been told to attempt it more often, but both of us have full time jobs and are tired during the week. We’re in a hurry to get to sleep most of the time.”
Actually, he’s the one who always wants to go to sleep. He gets home, watches television, eats dinner, and then usually falls asleep on the couch while watching some more television. By the time we get to bed, he’s not much in the mood. I consider pointing this out to the Doctor, but hold back, hoping I may later get to talk to her in private.
“I hear that from a lot of couples,” The Doctor plays along with his excuse. “I suppose it is one of the disadvantages of today’s modern lifestyle.”
My Husband likes this. It reinforces his argument. Ever since we first got married, he’s been pressuring me to quit my job and stay home. Since we started having trouble conceiving children, the pressure has only increased. In fact, he believes the primary reason for our failure is the stress and physical exertion of my job, but I never believed the job of a waitress was particularly stressful.
“And how long does it usually last?” She turns back to me. “I mean from the time of initial penetration to final ejaculation, how long does your husband usually last?”
The words she uses give me a thrill; words like “penetration” and “ejaculation.” They shouldn’t thrill me, I know, not in a doctor’s office. She uses the terms in a clinical sense, but still I can’t help it.
“Ten, maybe fifteen minutes,” My husband answers for me.
Doctor Palin ignores him. Her eyes stay focused on me, as if waiting for a response, wanting only my estimate.
“I guess that’s about right,” I know he exaggerates, but give in anyway. “It’s not like I ever timed it using a stopwatch.”
I let out a slight giggle as I say this. A picture forms in my mind: Me with a stopwatch and my husband on top. The picture makes me laugh. Doctor Palin smiles back and seems to think it funny too.
“A longer penetration time can also be of benefit,” She smiles but does not allow any other emotion to show through. I suspect she knows the real answer to her question is something less. I hope I get a chance to talk to her afterwards, outside the presence of my husband, and set the record straight. If we really do want to be successful, then I think we need to be honest and give her accurate answers.
“And what about quantity?” She finally turns back to him. “After this quick ejaculation of yours, would you say you ejaculate a large quantity when you cum?”
Her choice of words surprises me. She adds another to thrill me. I’ve heard them all before, from our regular doctor, but they somehow sound more thrilling coming from a female. I especially like the way she indirectly hints, probably on purpose, that even ten or fifteen minutes is too quick in her book.
“I guess I do!” My husband answers, perturbed. “How should I know?”
Doctor Palin nods. “Fair enough,” She agrees. “I’ll check your medical records when they arrive. You should have already been tested for quantity.”
I think about this and wonder how he was tested. There is only one way I can think to test it, but have a hard time imagining my husband submitting to such a test. If he ever did so, he never gave me any indication.
The doctor goes on to ask us less personnel, not so sexually-related questions. She asks about any prescription medications, past medical procedures, even any illegal drug use. My husband admits to once puffing up a marijuana cigarette and having a few beers over the weekend, but that’s about it. All I ever drink is a glass of wine on special occasions. Neither of us ever had any major surgery, certainly nothing to prevent us from bearing children.
“No surgery at all?” She looks me in the eye and asks more pointedly, as if she thinks I might be telling a lie.
“None,” I take offense at her silent accusation, but then recall. “Well, yes, there were my tonsils when I was a little girl.”
“And nothing else?”
“Nothing at all,” I assure her.
“Not even your breasts?”
I suddenly understand the reason for her disbelief. She thinks my breasts are artificial, enhanced in size, and I can understand why. They certainly are larger than the average.
“They’re completely natural,” My husband comes to my rescue before I get the chance.
“Just asking,” The Doctor holds up her hands in a way of apologizing. “Your answers certainly make you potential candidates for the procedure,” She closes up the file and the questionnaire inside. “We still need to run a few tests, yes, but I believe there is an excellent chance I can help.”
“You really think so?” I ask with hope, surprised at the speed of her conclusion. I had expected a lot of tests, perhaps more questions too, but then her questions did dive right to the point.
“We still need to run a few tests,” She repeats her disclaimer as if to make sure I fully understand and don’t jump to any conclusions too soon. “But I think your problem may be as simple as inadequate size during penetration.”
“Wait a minute!” My husband doesn’t like this. He starts to get up out of his chair in opposition. Doctor Palin holds out the palm of her hand in an invitation for him to stop and sit back down.
“Please, it’s very common,” She casually explains. “I know all you men like to think you are big down there. It’s a sign of masculinity, you believe, but it’s impossible for every male to be oversized. There’s something called the law of averages. Some men are longer, and some men are smaller. It’s no different than the breasts on a woman.
The doctor uses my breasts as an example. “Take your wife, for example,” She makes a point of looking at them from across her desk. “Bras are purposely made in a large variety of cup sizes. We have a whole lettering system to categorize them. Your wife is probably, what, a D cup?” She asks of me.
“Double-D,” I quickly correct.
“So that would put you in upwards of the 98th percentile,” She translates into more scientific terms. “Which means your breasts are larger than about 98 percent of the population. They are certainly a lot larger than my own,” She glances down at her own chest as if to point this out. “But this does not make me feel inadequate as a woman. I am no less female than what you are,” She looks at me and then turns to my husband. “Just as you are no less male than any other man.”
He does a comparison too, I notice, my husband, taking a quick glance at me and then a much closer look at the Doctor. It is something he can relate to, I suppose, something any guy can understand. He knows all about my heavy double Ds, but must take a close look at what the Doctor may have hidden behind her business attire. I figure he tries to picture what she might look like in the bare.
“Plus, some women simply need to be penetrated more deeply than others,” Doctor Palin breaks his stare when she goes on. “That’s just the way they are physically built inside. Just as some men grow longer on the outside, so do the hormones in the developing fetus cause some women to develop deeper on the inside. It’s not as noticeable on a woman because it occurs inside, to her internal plumbing, but it happens.”
Her explanation seems to have some merit. “Could they cause a large chest size too?” I think to ask. “I mean these hormones that cause a woman to be deeper inside, could they also cause larger breasts? Could my large breast be a sign that I’m also deep on the inside?”
Doctor Palin brings her hand up to her chin and thinks about this. “Interesting theory! You certainly do have some heavy breasts,” She looks right at them. “But I’m afraid there’s been no proven medical correlation between the two. Still, interesting theory!”
She continues to think about it.
“So this could be the source of the problem,” My husband nudges her back to the situation at hand.
“Possible,” Her hand lowers. “You take an under-average male combined with an over-average female, and pregnancy becomes nearly impossible.”
I like the sound of this. This Doctor may have something. I turn more relaxed and for the first time feel she actually may be able to help. What she says next makes me feel even better.
“That’s why here at the reproductive clinic,” Doctor Palin goes on. “…we make sure to practice natural insemination only with the largest of males who can produce the most intense sexual stimulation within the female.”
My eyes nearly pop out of my head. I want to jump up in shock. My mouth opens wide. I can’t quite believe what I just heard. It’s like tearing the wrapping off a birthday present and being surprised by a diamond ring inside.
“And when I mean large,” She goes on to describe. “I’m talking about large both in length as well as girth, able to easily penetrate the full length into any female, essentially the equivalent of a double-D size male.”
I hardly hear the rest of what she has to say. I remain in shock. My mouth probably stays open as well. Her words about a “double-D sized male” strike me particularly hard, like someone giving me a slap across the face. I never realized there could be such a variety between males, not down there, and then I naturally wonder what dimensions a male would have to measure to achieve a double-D rating.
It takes several seconds to bring myself back down to reality. I attempt to get hold of myself, rest my feet back upon solid ground, even close my mouth back up and not look so intensely interested. I realize I must resemble some wanton slut, like some oversexed young woman at her first bachelorette party. That’s certainly how I feel, and then I hope my husband hasn’t notice.
From the person sitting in the chair beside me, I can tell he has a hard time believing it too. I hear him stir. He looks uncomfortable, and well he should be. Any husband would naturally be very much disturbed by what the doctor just said. When he eventually does speak, it comes out as a convoluted “Well, um.” A rare loss for words for him! It appears he has a hard time believing it as well.
“We have several natural inseminators who would be more than capable of helping in this regard,” Doctor Palin continues as if having given the same speech a thousand times before and accustomed to getting the same reaction from every married couple she has ever told. “Perhaps if I could introduce you to one of them, then give you time to think about it?” She suggests.
Although I hear her question, I cannot answer. My brain remains locked on the first part of her conclusion. “Double D sized males,” I keep thinking to myself. And then what she said about girth as well as depth. The words resonate inside me like a cymbal, echoing back and forth within the limited confines of my head. They pull for my attention, pulling me out of the room and far away from her offer.
“Just hold on!” My husband recovers before me. “Natural inseminators? What exactly do you mean by this?”
I wonder too, although I already know. I know exactly what she means because my husband explained it to me. I had a difficult time believing him at first, a difficult time believing such a clinic might actually exist, but it was part of the reason why I agreed to come along.
“I’m talking about males,” Doctor Palin answers simply. “We’re discussing the possibility of human males impregnating your wife! Isn’t that why you are here?”
Having it confirmed makes my heart jump. Actual human males, other than my husband to aid in my pregnancy. The thought delights me. It delighted me right after my husband first mentioned it — after I got over the initial shock, that is. It brought further delight when I saw the handsome young male receptionist behind the desk when we first walked in, and then the two male nurses who assisted with the other patients. All were tall, dark, handsome, and with enough muscles to play quarterback for a college football team. In fact, they all looked like they were still in college.
“Well, yes, of course!” My husband answers with some difficulty, like he is in a trap, trapped by his own words. “It’s just that, until now…”
“Are you saying this bothers you?” Doctor Palin questions. “If it does, then perhaps you shouldn’t be here, but I did explain it to you over the phone. I clearly explained the procedure is totally natural. It will require your wife to be impregnated by natural methods.”
“Of course,” My husband nods.
“And the only natural method of impregnation is through sexual intercourse,” She goes on to explain it even more directly. “Our procedure will require your wife to be, as they like to say on the street, to be fucked by another man.”
Her use of the word makes me jump. Hearing it come from a doctor, a professional makes it no less so. Whoever says it, the word carries precisely the same meaning.
“Sorry for being so direct,” The Doctor apologizes before either of us have a chance to object. “But that is what the general populous most commonly calls it: fucking. For your wife to get pregnant by natural means, she will have to be fucked by another man.”
Again she uses the word, and then yet again, and she’s right! For me to get pregnant, I will have to be fucked. My imagination instantly leaps to the receptionist and then to the handsome young men I already encountered. A split second later I recall her words about size. The thought makes my eyes go wide. My body stiffens in the chair.
“If you have a problem with this, I suggest you leave right now before you waste any more of my valuable time,” Doctor Palin speaks through my disturbing yet very pleasant thoughts. Her tone turns more serious, almost condescending to my husband. The folder before is tossed aside. She pushes her chair back away from her desk and starts to get up.
“I never said I wouldn’t consider it!” My husband holds his own. He raises the palms of his hands like a fighter defending himself from a possible right hook. “It’s just that I’m thinking more of my wife. She needs time to consider it. We both do.”
Doctor Palin stops in mid-rise. She is hunched over at her desk, with her hands on the arm rests, caught half-way between sitting and standing. Leaning forward, her blouse opens and displays the upper portion of her breasts, a fact my husband must certainly notice.
“Perhaps I misunderstood you,” She pauses several seconds more before sitting back down. “You’ll have to excuse me,” She apologizes. “It’s just that I encounter a large number of insecure men in my line of work, men who are not strong enough in their relationships with their wives to appreciate a perfectly viable medical procedure.”
My husband sits up proudly in his chair as if to announce his own security.
“They somehow feel intimidated, even insulted by the idea of their wives undergoing a treatment where the male sperm is ejected by totally natural methods into their wife. I dare say, some can’t help but have some ridiculous assertion that their wives are cheating on them, like they are having an extramarital affair,” She proposes the idea and then laughs at it. “I mean an extramarital affair! Really! Over a medical procedure? And in this day and age! Such men remind me of cave dwelling Neanderthals.”
My husband laughs along with her. So do I. I can’t help it. The laughter is contagious. It does make some men sound barbaric, yet at the same time…
At the same time, I can’t help but feel excited by it. One of her words in particular wedges itself in my mind: “eject.” Yes indeed, another man will need to eject for the procedure to work. Eject, that is, in the form of an ejaculation. He won’t be wearing a rubber, of course, because that would negate the whole purpose of the procedure. He will have to insert himself into me in the bare, raw, with nothing to get in the way of me feeling every inch of him. I’m sure he won’t be wearing anything else either, the thought of which sends a pleasurable wave of ecstasy through my body.
“I hope you see the point I am trying to make,” Doctor Palin addresses my husband directly.
“Oh, I do!” He agrees.
“And can I assume you are not one of those types of men?”
“I am not,” He assures her with confidence.
“Good then,” The smile on her face returns. She picks our file back up from the side of her desk. “The next step in the procedure is to introduce you to one of our professional inseminators, if you wish?” She asks and then lets the question hang in mid-air like bait from a fishing hook.
My husband looks at me.
I look back between him and the doctor. We both know what this means. It means she wants to introduce me to one of the men who might be inseminating me, that is, to one of the men who very possibly will be fucking my brains out. I can’t wait to find out what he looks like, how handsome he might be, his age, height, and everything else about him.
“I guess that would be the logical next step,” My husband concludes as my mind swirls with delight. “If you are still willing to go on with it?” He looks at me to question.
I nod my head, trying not to nod it too violently. “As long as we drove all the way hear and took the time off from work,” I attempt to sound disinterested. “We might as well.”
Doctor Palin immediately picks up her phone and asks the person on the other end to send “Jason” into the office. She says his name only after giving me a careful look over. It is as if she tries to guess my interest, check which type of man I will find most stimulating. Tall or short? Blond or brunette? Muscular or skinny? I find myself waiting with anxious anticipation for whomever she selected.
“You’ll like Jason,” She assures me after she hangs up. “Very professional. Rather creative, although he can be a bit rough.”
Her warning comes in little more than a whisper. She places her hand on the side of her mouth to direct her words only to me. They intrigue me: first creative and then rough. I wonder if she refers to sex, the act of sexual intercourse. Creative and rough would be interesting. I wonder how rough he might be.
“What was that?” My husband wants to know. Although he sits right beside me, he apparently didn’t hear. Or perhaps he did hear but refused to listen.
“Nothing,” Doctor Palin assures him. “Perhaps your wife will explain after she completes the procedure.”
Just then he walks in. I gasp at the sight. All my reservations evaporate as soon as I see him. A handsome man, shirtless and barefoot, wearing only sweat pants. His chest appears like a fine sculpture. His face handsome and proud. He walks in through the back door of her office and stands up along side the desk of the doctor.
“This is Jason,” Doctor Palin introduces. “He’s one of the inseminators here at the clinic.”
“Wait a minute,” My husband immediately rejects. He sees it too, I can tell. The fine lines, the bulging muscles. Perhaps he notices the interest in my eyes too, my attraction to this stranger. I can’t be sure, but fear I may have let out an audible gasp.
“What’s wrong?” I feign disinterest and ask my husband in an attempt to discharge any damage I may have already done.
“Is there a problem?” Doctor Palin asks him the same question. “Isn’t he what you expected?”
My husband sits speechless, taking several seconds to answer. “His age!” He finally raises his first objection. The tone of his voice expresses worry.
Yes, there is his age too. I notice it as well! Jason looks young, very young, hardly of legal age. He could be ten years my junior. I have never been with a younger man; never even dated a man younger than myself, and this one looks young enough to be my son. The potential vitality and energy of such a young man intrigues me.
“What did you expect, a fifty-year-old man?” Doctor Palin almost laughs at him. “The clinic wishes to provide the best possible chance for your wife to achieve a successful pregnancy,” She speaks as if it should be obvious to him. “Don’t you want to give your wife the maximum possible chance?”
“Well, yes,” My husband stupidly agrees.
“Then we naturally need to utilize young men,” Doctor Palin concludes for him. “Young men have more energy, more vitality. They can perform the procedure for longer periods of time, and can recover more quickly between procedures.”
He certainly does look young and with great energy. I wonder how young. Early twenties, at the most. He might only be eighteen or nineteen.
“If this bothers you,” The Doctor repeats the same argument from only a few minutes before. “Then perhaps the procedure is not right for you. You need to remember we will be conducting a medical procedure here. It is not as if your wife will be having an illicit affair with this young man.”
Her suggestion sounds stimulating: An illicit affair! I wouldn’t mind having an affair, at least in my imagination. I imagine meeting Jason at the table in the restaurant where I work. He could be a young man on a long business trip. We would get to talking, get to know each other, and then I could let him take me to his hotel room next door. My husband would never know. He couldn’t imagine me capable of such mischievous behavior.
“I know! I know!” My husband weakly accepts. “I guess I was just surprised at his age.”
“Then I should probably also warn you, as long as we are on the subject,” The Doctor continues as if she never heard him. “Although Jason will technically be conducting a medical procedure on your wife, he will also be providing her with a certain amount of pleasure and enjoyment. This is part of the experience, as you should already know, so I should only be telling you the obvious.”
“Well, yes,” My husband accepts with hesitance.
I take a hard swallow and accept it too. It is the main reason I agreed to come in for the appointment. Looking at Jason, I believe I will be experiencing a large amount of pleasure. I am sure to enjoy myself.
“And can I assume this will not bother you?” Doctor Palin asks more directly. “I need to make sure neither your marriage nor male ego will not be affected by your wife receiving an orgasm from another man.”
She does it again, using another word. I think of the few times I’ve had an orgasm, and then think what it will feel like to receive one from Jason. He certainly will be able to give it to me a lot easier than my husband. I wonder how easy. I want to know how hard I will cum.
“Well, um,” My husband can hardly speak. “I don’t believe so, but I still need to do some thinking about that part of it.”
“Think about it carefully,” Doctor Palin suggests. “Because with Jason, I can guarantee your wife will have an orgasm every time.”
Her words make me jump. “Every time?” I want to ask. “Can he really be that good?” I ask to myself. I’ve heard some men were better than others — heard it mostly from my girlfriends. I never experienced it first hand, but heard it took some men a lot longer than others. They were able to hold back, prevent their release until their partner was satisfied. My husband was never capable of this, but I wonder about Jason.
And then I think further about her words. “Every time?” The words continue to echo in my head. She makes it sound like there will be more than one time. Not a quick one-night stand, but I dare to think of the possibility of multiple opportunities with Jason!
“I’ll think about it,” My husband eventually agrees. It takes him time to agree. I can tell he already thinks about it, and it already bothers him. I must walk a fine line. I can’t appear too interested. I must hold my emotions in check; not let my true interest show. If I do, then there will be no chance. My husband will never agree to go along with it. He won’t agree with the procedure if he knows how truly aroused I am with it.
“We both need to think about it,” I look at him and agree, using every ounce of energy I have to sound disinterested, to show a poker face, act like Jason fucking me will be nothing more than a normal medical procedure. But each time I think of it, I can’t help but grow excited by it. The doctor said he was creative. She also mentioned he could be rough. Rough with Jason could mean a lot of things. I want to know what they are.
I also wonder about his size, and just then I notice it. My eyes naturally migrate down the length of his body when I think about his size, as if trying to imagine what he might look like without his sweatpants, and just then I focus right on it. I notice the bulge. Not at his waist, but a lot further down, which I find shocking. The bulge comes in the form of a cylinder, like a large tube trying to tent out from inside his pants. It looks as if he is starting to harden, and from the distance the bulge forms below his waist, he must be twice the length of my husband, perhaps three times.
I can’t help it. I begin to think further about it. My imagination turns more vivid. I think what it would feel like to experience Jason, to experience a cock of such large proportions. Thrusting, pounding, slamming in and out of me.
“Any other questions?” Doctor Palin interrupts these pleasant thoughts with the squeak of her chair when she pushes it out from her desk. She looks as if she has another appointment.
I wish to leave too. I am not sure how much more I can take. I want to quick leave, get back into my own car to go to work, and then stop at the park to do about a five mile run. I wouldn’t really run five miles, but feel like I have enough spent up energy and emotion to do so. Being so near the young man who may possibly fuck me fills me with so much anticipation I can hardly stand it.
“Just one question,” My husband surprises me. “It’s something you mentioned just now, about every time?”
The doctor looks back confused.
So am I. I already stand half out of my chair, but then sit back down.
“You made it sound like there will be more than one time,” My husband explains with some difficulty. “It sounds like Jason might be conducting the procedure on her more than once.”
“Of course he will,” The doctor almost laughs at this. “You can’t expect a successful pregnancy after just one attempt. We must increase the odds.”
One more time my eyes practically pop out of their sockets. This time I know my mouth hangs open wide, so I quick look away from my husband to keep him from seeing.
“The procedure will last a total of three weeks,” The doctor already stands and gets ready to go. “For three weeks straight, twice per day, one of my males will need to penetrate your wife to achieve maximum benefit.”
I can hardly believe the words I hear. Three week? Twice per day? I quickly run through the numbers and calculate how many times Jason will be fucking me. Not just once, but a whole 42 times in all! And twice per day too! I’ve never before been fucked more than once per day.
“The procedure is usually done here at the clinic,” More words follow but I hardly hear them. “But special arrangements can be made for Jason to come to your residence if it works out to everyone’s mutual benefit. It need not necessarily be done in the evening either, but special arrangements can be made for practically any time of day. All your wife needs is two free hours for the procedure to be conducted.”
“Two hours!” I want to scream it out. “Are you serious?” I want to ask but keep it to myself. Two whole hours with Jason! Two hours per day of Jason fucking me! I can hardly believe it. I don’t think I will be able to stand it. Never has my husband lasted even a half-hour, and to experience it two times per day for three weeks straight!
- To be continued… -
It was a sort of homecoming for me. Returning to one’s alma mater does qualify for the homecoming feel. To add to the excitement was getting back to the labs and departments that one had spent as a student.
It was a sweet surprise when the head of Anatomy Department in the prestigious medical college in Bangalore — my alma mater – called me and asked if I was interested to take up a short term teaching assignment in his department.
I had recently passed out of my post graduation in anatomy from a premier medical institute in Delhi and had returned to home town for a well deserved vacation. I was planning to migrate to Australia to take up a teaching assignment in a university medical school. There was a gap of six months before I could join there for the next academic session.
The job that was offered in my alma mater was not well paying, it being an ad hoc appointment; nevertheless I agreed as it is always a thrill to go back as a teacher to the place where you were once a student. Rubbing shoulders with your former teachers in the capacity of a colleague is an experience that has a lot of initial hype.
It was also a learning experience to face the students in the classroom and labs. I felt that would give me lot of confidence to show strength and resolve when I reach my new assignment in Australia. I did have enough teaching experience when doing my post graduation. But then those students were very familiar and we had lot of socializing in the campus. I was more of a senior fellow for them than a teacher. I was not much known here, especially for the first year students, whom I would be teaching.
The chief had given me the schedule of academic activity for the next one month. He had carefully scheduled all his evening classes for my name, so that he could leave the place in the afternoon and enjoy an early evening at his club. I was measuring up the activities that I would be doing for the weekend.
My girlfriend was doing her internship in the same college. She was three years junior to me during the undergraduate studies. She was happy that I had joined the same place and we had plans to make the time worthwhile.
I was in that reverie when a sweet voice jolted me “Sir, do we have dissections tomorrow”.
Getting addressed as Sir was a new experience. When I turned around, I saw an innocent looking girl with a name badge claiming that her name was Rima. She was an innocent looking girl of average height and seductive looks. For a moment I kept staring at her face. She was quite fair and supple. Her figure was hidden by the loose apron that she was wearing. But the top buttons that were undone revealed that she had a blue T shirt. She was wearing a denim skirt that was spilt at the back. As my eyes travelled below, I could see that she has sports shoes on. Perhaps she was an athlete and that explained the lithe figure that she had.
Getting no reply from me, she repeated “Sir, do we have dissections tomorrow. My batch mates wanted to know because we have been told that you have joined here and would like to know when you start our classes”.
I felt embarrassed that I was caught in an awkward moment by a student and the initial impression that I gave her was not too professional.
I hemmed a bit and said ‘Yes. As per the schedule I have histology lab for you tomorrow at 3 PM”.
It was now her turn to gape at me.
I am quite handsome by all counts — 6′ 1″ height, 70 KG body weight, much of which is muscles and no fat. An oval chiseled face that has a pair of keen eyes. The eyebrows meet at the centre just above the root of nose, making a double arch. My thick mop of curly hair is always trimmed short. I dress impeccably in formals, especially when on professional duties. I was not wearing an apron, which gave her a fair view of my body. My half sleeved shirt afforded a good view of my sinewy and hairy arms.
I smiled at her and said “Hello, are you there?”
It was her turn to be embarrassed. She blushed giving her face a crimson tint. She looked glorious under the sunlight that we were standing. She mumbled a thank you and scooted off. I felt a twinge in my heart that she left so soon. I also felt guilty to have such thoughts about a student, especially when my girlfriend was waiting for me in the cafeteria.
I rushed to the cafeteria for lunch where Jyothi, my girlfriend was waiting. She rose up to shake hands with me and asked “How was the first day”.
I explained to her the schedule that was given to me. She was a bit disappointed that I would be occupied during the afternoons — the time that she was relatively free in the hospital. I told her that we can always find privacy in the lab, as there would be no soul during that time — the attenders would be either busy gossiping in the tea shop or enjoying siesta.
She did not seem enthusiastic about coming back to the histology lab, as she was averse to the anatomy department from the beginning. We made a deal that I would wrap the class early and meet in her house. Her parents were away on a business tour and she was alone for some more time. We sat there sipping coffee and chatting and had no clue how the time passed off. I told her that I will meet her at home by seven and then go out for dinner and left for home.
There was lot of curiosity at home with my mother wanting to know if everything went of well and how was Jyothi. It was well known at home that we were seeing each other and were serious about settling down once she finished her graduation. Mom had made some special sweets which she packed for Jyothi when I told that I will be visiting her place.
I took bath and changed into comfortable kurta and jeans. I took out my old bike and drove to Jyothi’s place that was ten minutes away. She opened the door and received me so warmly and eagerly. She asked me to follow her to the sitting room. There she pointed towards the sofa and asked me to sit down.
Jyothi asked me, “Would you like tea or coffee?”
I suggested tea, as it was easier and faster to make.
“I would like a cup of tea,” I told her.
She went to the kitchen, and came back soon with a tray of tea. She put the tray on the table and she sat down beside me on the sofa. She had made tea both for herself and me.
“How did you manage so quickly?” I asked her.
She smiled. “I had already prepared it. Thanks for the sweets. Aunty is surely hell of a cook. I have to take lessons from her before we settle down” she told me.
She wore a white long skirt and a low-necked sleeveless short kamiz and had thrown a red shawl around her shoulders. Her own reddish color was reflected in the latter. It was a surprise that she never used clothes like this at home. She always wore casuals like T shirts and slacks at home.
We continued the small talk for a while till the other friends joined us. I was surprised that she had arranged for a party to celebrate my joining the college. Most of them were her batch mates. I was not too comfortable with this turn of events, as I was in the mood to spending the evening with her alone. And hoping to get a bit lucky as the evening progressed.
The party was at ‘The Chimney’ a newly opened discotheque in the outskirts of city. It was previously a foundry that was converted as a event management place. We sat there in groups, Jyothi and me together at one table — thank god for the small mercies. We kept sipping on the chilled beers along with small talk to fill the time.
Her friends were on the dance floor swinging to the fast music. She seemed to be in no rush to head back to her friends. The place was filled with the young revelers from the nearby colleges and the BPO companies. A large group walked past them and one of them bumped into Jyothi. She lost her balance and fell forward. I leaned forward and grabbed her, helping her keep her balance. I couldn’t help but look in her Kamiz as she tried to regain her balance but instead fell forward, landing on my lap.
“I’m sorry….” she started to say.
“Nothing to be sorry about. You don’t have to get up if you don’t want to,” I smiled with a naughty wink.
“Are you sure? You are pretty comfortable.” she smiled back.
“Go right ahead.”
Jyothi straddled completely onto my lap with a big smile. We continued to talk about music and friends and family for another twenty minutes. Jyothi felt the hardening of my cock under her.
“Am I hurting you?” she said shyly. Her eyes glanced down at my crotch under her.
“Not at all. Just between you and me? I kind of like having you on my lap.” I joked.
“Well it’s good to be here.” she responded.
I felt her shift her weight as she sat on my lap. We looked into each other’s eyes. Jyothi put her hand on my chest and leaned in, I pulled her close against my chest and kissed her. She responded eagerly with her tongue. The kiss got longer and deeper. I slipped my arm to her leg, stroking her thigh through the skirt. Jyothi moaned as my hand made contact with her bare skin. Her hips rose slowly up and back down on me. She could feel my hard on pressing against her shorts. She started breathing a little heavy as we start to dry hump each other in the middle of the club. Jyothi felt her nipples hardening against the fabric of her short kameez.
Both lost track of time, of space. Neither was sure of how long we had been making out. We had both heard several songs sung behind us, but had lost count of the number and who sang them. But neither stopped. We continued to kiss deeply, feeling each other’s body responding. I pulled away.
“Lets go home now.”
I whispered, knowing what a chance I was taking. But I had to try. Jyothi had made me so horny that I needed her. Judging by her nipples poking her kameez, I was having the same effect on her. She kissed me again, urgently slipping her tongue into my mouth. A voice in the back of her head might have told her to say no, but her desire won out.
“Let’s go.” she said.
Jyothi hopped off my lap and extended an arm to me. I stood up on my own and took her by the arm. She glanced over at her friends who were still huddled in the corner. She followed me through the crowds to the exit door.
A light rain was falling as we made our way from the front door to my car in the parking lot. We got half way through the lot when Jyothi stopped me.
“What is it?”, I asked.
“I forgot my purse inside. I need to go back and get it.” she said as she stopped and turned around.
She pulled me back towards the club. She held my hand tight as we went back inside.
I watched her as we fought through the crowds. The rain had soaked her hair and kameez, pronouncing her breasts even more through her top. I felt so hard staring at her. Jyothi and me retreated to where her friends were before. She found her purse on the ground but her friends no where in sight. She quickly grabbed it and turned back to the door.
Just as we were getting to the door again, I stopped her this time.
“I’ll be right back.” I said releasing her hand.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll be right back.”, I repeated and disappeared down the dark hallway.
Jyothi stood there in the lobby for what seemed like hours. But actually it was only three minutes. She thought maybe she had done something to disappoint me and felt lost. Just then she heard footsteps behind her.
She felt some body grab her hand. At first she was startled until she realized the contour of my hand.
“Where are we going?” she asked as I led her down the darkened hallway.
She stumbled slowly, still feeling the results of her drinking earlier in the night. Some time had passed and her buzz was dying down. For the first time in a few hours, Jyothi could think straight. At least as far as the beers were concerned. She still felt dizzy when it came to me.
Jyothi had no idea where I was taking her. The faint lights above lighted their way. She thought about questioning where she was going but didn’t say a word. Finally I stopped and opened a door. Jyothi stepped inside….
It was the men’s rest room! Jyothi turned to me to say something in protest but I covered her mouth with mine, kissing her deeply. She accepted my kisses, holding me close to her body.
“Besides I’m in no condition to drive and neither are you,” I said.
My voice was still slightly slurred. “I need you so bad,” I whispered.
Jyothi looked around and saw it was an empty room. She turned and saw there was a lock on the front door to the men’s room. She walked over to the door and locked it. As she walked she could feel the moisture in between her legs grow. The sound of the lock echoed through the room. Jyothi turned to me and gestured for me to come to her.
I stepped forward and pulled her into my arms. Our lips found each other’s and started deep long kisses. I backed Jyothi up against the wall, holding her there as I moved my hips into her. I started kissing her neck and ears and listened to her moan. Jyothi closed her eyes and focused on my hot breath on her skin.
Her hands played in my hair, driving my lips on her neck. She felt my hands creep from her stomach to her breasts, squeezing through the material of her top. I took a step back and my eyes fell to her cleavage. Quickly she grabbed the bottom of her kameez and raised it up. I reached around her, pulling her in for another kiss as I struggled with the clasp on the back of her bra. Finally I heard the snap. I pulled the bra off and watched as her big breasts fell free. I bent down to capture one between my lips. She sighed happily as I nursed on her breasts. Her nipples stood erect. Her chest raised and lowered as she breathed heavily.
She licked her lips and I knew exactly what she wanted. She helped me out of my shirt, feeling my chest and stomach. She grabbed my cock through my pants, rubbing my hardness as quick as she could. I moaned as she toyed with me. I looked around the room, trying to occupy myself so he didn’t cum in my pants. There I saw the mirror in front of the sink.
I guided her towards the mirror and away from the door. I turned her around. Jyothi reached for the sink and grasped it. She felt her shorts being dropped as I rubbed my cock against her backside. She bit her tongue, wanting to feel nothing separating us anymore. Jyothi stepped out of her shorts. Wasting no time, I dropped her panties down her legs. She felt so naughty, butt naked in the men’s room and about to be fucked.
I unzipped my shorts and kicked them down my legs, pulling my boxers down with them. I could hear her moaning in anticipation. I watched as she took deep breaths, her back rising and falling. She turned out and gave me a naughty pout. I knew what he needed to do.
With one hand on her hips, and the other on my rock hard cock and drove it in between Jyothi’s legs. She leaned back still holding the sink for balance. Finally I was inside her. We both looked forwarded, seeing the image of reflecting in the mirror. Jyothi’s tits bounced forward as our bodies synced.
She could feel the sweat all over our bodies as she stared at the hypnotic image in the mirror. She watched as my body shoved forward into hers. The room echoed with the sounds of flesh on flesh, slapping together. There was nothing soft about us coming together. I moved my mouth, licking her neck and ears as I kept pumping into her.
I watched as Jyothi gazed at us in the mirror.
“You like watching yourself getting fucked, don’t you?” I whispered in her ear.
“Uh Huh.” Jyothi replied.
“You look so sexy when you’re getting fucked, do you know that? Look at that beautiful body,” I said. As I did, my hand slipped from around her waist to squeeze her bouncing right breast. I listened as she groaned the feeling of my hand on her breast sent shockwaves through her body.
“Fuck me,” she mouthed.
“Yeah, baby,” My thrusts became longer and deeper, sliding all the way inside her before pulling out.
I began to bite down on her neck. Jyothi reached back and grabbed my head and pulled it against her skin, her eyes never leaving the mirror. She held onto the sink tighter, feeling her knees get weak.
Her pussy leaked all over my crotch as we moved in unison. Finally, she came and she came hard. Jyothi’s eyes rolled in the back of her head as she screamed out in pleasure.
I pulled out from her as I felt my cock coated by her wetness. She turned around and was about to say something. But I picked her up by the under the arms and put it on the sink. She reached for me, pulling me into her with a wet sloppy kiss. My cock slipped back into her.
Jyothi fell back against the mirror which just minutes ago displayed the most erotic scene of her life. She dug her heels into my back, guiding me into her. We kissed deeply, our tongues rolling deep into each other’s mouths. I felt her hard nipples slapping against my chest. Jyothi’s nails dug into my back as she kissed me, pulling my body into hers.
“It feels so good inside you,” Jyothi’s hands dropped to my ass, forcing me deeper inside her. I started moaning as I plunged deep into Jyothi.
“Such a hard cock inside me. Fuck me with it,” I began ramming faster, the sweat covering my body. Jyothi tilted her head back, giving me access to her neck and ears.
I kissed licked nibbled sucked all that I could.
I knew I wouldn’t last much longer. I was on the verge of erupting. I fucked her faster, grabbing her ass as I pushed into her. I bent forward and captured one of her breasts in my mouth, sucking the nipple hard. I slowed my pace as I licked her tit.
Just when it felt like I could take no more of her body, I erupted deep inside her womb. Jyothi shivered as she felt the hot blast inside her. She moaned as she received every drop into her pussy.
I held her there, still pressing my sweaty body against hers, feeling myself soften inside her. I eased out of her and smiled. She smiled back and jumped down off the sink. Her knees wobbled as she stood.
We looked at each other, not knowing exactly what to say. We wound up in a hot embrace again, holding each other as we struggled to regain our breath. Jyothi moaned as she held my body against hers.
“You were incredible,” I whispered into her ear.
It sent shivers down her spine. She smiled and kissed me softly. We remained holding onto each other for another moment before gathering our clothes and dressing.
“Shall we go to your house now?” I asked as we made our way to the parking lot. She reached down and grabbed my hand.
“I thought you’d never ask.” she responded. I steered her in the direction of my car.
The drive back home was quiet, as each of us was contemplating what happened in the club. The suddenness and the intensity of our passion was a shocker to both of us. In the five years of dating, much of which was long distance, we had not felt this strong urge or rather lust.
The rain had mellowed down to a drizzle, symbolizing our own emotions that had become quieter. Perhaps we were scared to admit the passion in the serenity of our emotions. We reached her house, which anyway was empty, as her parents were on a business tour. The servants too had taken off.
We both reached her bedroom and like mature lovers fell into each other’s arms savoring the warmth of our feelings. I slowly eased her onto the bed and lay down beside her. The exhaustion of our love making and the lateness of night engulfed us into a blissful sleep.
The morning broke with the promise of a rainy day. Rains are always welcome in the tropical regions as they afford a coolness that refreshes body and mind. More so there is something special about the sound of rain in the morning. Something about it added an additional significance to holding Jyothi close under the covers. Something about it added a stronger desire to make love to her.
So when I awoke in the morning and heard the rain falling somewhat hard and fast upon the roof, I instinctively turned to Jyothi to find she was already awake, watching me with half-open eyes, a sweet smile upon her face.
She knew, and clearly she wanted. Before I could move toward her, she slipped atop me underneath the covers, her short hair brushing my cheeks and forehead as she kissed me gently, her flesh warm and enticing as her weight pressed me nicely into the mattress.
Warm bed, falling rain, loving girl friend… The combination was more than enough to arouse me. She gently rocked against my growing length, whimpering softly into my mouth in that special way which signaled her own growing arousal. I soon felt her liquid love anointing me as the kiss lingered, deepened…
I held my mouth as wide open as possible, and her tongue dove deep into me. This was an act she seemed to enjoy more, for this was one way in which she could penetrate me, and with her long tongue, she could probe deep into my. I welcomed it because it was such an intimate experience to allow her so deep into my mouth, into my body…
My hold tightened. I squeezed her firmly, enjoying the feel of her breasts pressing against my chest. Her nipples were hard, little point attempting to burrow into my skin. I could feel her heartbeat, steady yet quickening, and I wondered if it would be possible for my heart to leap from my chest into hers…
Lifting her head away, she gazed upon me. With the darkened sky weeping upon the city, the bedroom was relatively dim for early morning on a Saturday. I somewhat wished that there were candles lit throughout the bedroom, or perhaps a fireplace casting its romantic glow, just to add yet another element of perfection to this wonderful morning…
My hand slithered down my Jyothi’s back as she breathed warmly upon my face. Her eyes were closed as she focused on my hands. She had stopped rocking upon my solid sex and lifted herself up on stiffened arms. I took the hint, shifting a hand to her chest to gently squeeze a breast as my other hand continued to glide along her curves until finally, reaching over a firm buttock, a single fingertip brushed her moist womanhood.
Her gasp was nearly inaudible, but as I watched her face, her expression changed subtly. I smiled to myself, always enjoying these moments of foreplay, especially when I could tease her for a long time. She mewed softly as I slithered a finger into her body, her sultry sound a nice contrast to the long low rumble tumbling down from the sky. I gently rolled a nipple between my fingers, enjoying her deepening breaths and the loving expression in her half-open eyes.
“Lay on your back,” I requested. “Let me just play with you for a while…”
With a small nod, Jyothi took her position on the left side of the bed. I rolled to my side, propping my head on a hand while my dominant hand gently stroked her underneath the covers, focusing between her breasts, touching as closely as I could to her heart. I wished that I could reach inside her, through skin and muscle and bone, to touch her heart directly…
She took my manhood in a small hand and gently stroked with her fingertips, carefully scratching me with her long fingernails. It felt good, and I twitched several times in response. Her smile was even warmer than the bed, drawing my lips closer until we kissed once more.
The rainfall increased in intensity, and another rumble descended from the sky. The wind must have increased in strength or perhaps changed direction, because the rain began to pelt the window, adding a new sound to the wonderful morning being spent with a wonderful woman.
Taking a meandering path, my hand moved slowly from her chest down the length of her torso. She and I both knew the ultimate destination.
“Please,” she whispered as her hand wrapped fully around my dripping sex.
“‘Please’ what?” I teased, trying to hide the smile I felt curling the edges of my lips.
“Please… Inside me, please…”
I kissed her cheek. “Not yet,” I said, my hand finally cupping her sex.
She began to move, humping my hand, and I knew that her need was definitely coming to the foreground of her consciousness. She squeezed my erection several times as she moved against my hand, looking at me with desire and knowing that I could watch her like this for a long, long time before finally sliding into her and making love to her.
“Please,” she whispered again. “Before the rain stops, please…”
She had a point, for the rain no longer impacted the bedroom window, and its intensity had lessened considerably. But still I wanted to tease her, and dipped a finger into her sweet sex once again, producing a gasp from her which pulled at my heart. As she continued to move against my palm, I penetrated her repeatedly with that single digit, exploring the warmth and the wetness of her body, knowing that soon more than simply a finger would be enjoying the love I felt flowing from her core.
Several more times, she softly begged for me to make love to her, and I kept “ignoring” her. But finally, after a kiss to her neck, I lifted myself up and withdrew my hand from her body. Underneath the covers, her legs parted for me, her knees tenting the covers on either side of me as I positioned myself.
Yet I was not yet done teasing her. Instead of entering her, I purposely slid back and forth along her clitoris, sending visible shudders through her body. Her hand upon my hip relayed those tremors back into me, as if completing an electrical circuit.
And still the rain continued to fall upon the city.
“Please stop teasing me…”
That was when I finally pressed into her. Jyothi stopped breathing, her eyes widening, her lips parted, her hands both upon my hips as if helping to guide me into her. It was a wondrous moment for me to feel her body yielding to me, to feel her stretch to accommodate me as I slowly filled her. Without question, it is the moment of lovemaking her acceptance of me into her life, in the same way that she was once again accepting me into her body.
Distant thunder rolled across the sky again, and I feared that the rain would end before we did. I did not exactly set a slow pace, but my girl friend did not seem to mind — perhaps because she also wanted this to come to completion before the rain stopped.
Last night’s session at the club, the pace was fast and hard, my thrusts possessive and her sounds bouncing off the walls. But now, it was respectful and gentle, my thrusts varying in angle and depth to bring a variety of sensations to us both. Her hands were all over me, sometimes pulling me deeper into her body, sometimes feeling my heartbeat, sometimes cradling my face as I dipped my head to kiss her. This was a special moment of connection, enhanced by the morning rainfall and the dimly-lit bedroom and the warmth of the bed. This was more about communicating a mutual desire than about a primal need.
She pulled me flush upon her, my weight naturally pressing her into the mattress. Her gasp past my ear was thrilling, and I lunged into her body once again, faster and harder than before, just so I could hear that glorious sound one more time.
Another band of rain was washing over the city, for the intensity outside had increased. That was good, because I was not ready for this experience to come to an end, not yet. I slowed my pace greatly, grinding firmly against her before slowly backing out and then filling her anew. Her writhing, her scratching, her sweet sounds of delight were my reward, all wonderful benchmarks of her pleasure, and all that had ever truly mattered to me.
I tried to lift myself up, but she pulled me back upon her. Certainly it was hard for her to breathe with my chest pressing into hers as I made love to her, but clearly she did not care. Taking her head in my hands, I continued to move both within her and against her, cheek-to-cheek, my own breath reflected hotly into my face, trying to remain quiet so that I could better hear her soft squeals and her lengthy moans.
“Don’t stop!” she breathed past my ear.
I did anyhow, purposefully teasing her yet again, stilling myself deep inside her. Clutching me tightly, she writhed beneath me, part of her certainly enjoying this teasing yet part of her wanting our intimacy to continue.
Before she could beg me to continue, I rolled us both so that I was on my back and Jyothi was upon me once again. The pace of the rain had increased yet again, and for the first time, she threw back the covers and rose to straddle me, allowing me to see her natural beauty for the first time that morning.
I offered her my hands, and she accepted. Stiffening my arms, I enabled her to use my hands as leverage to rise and fall upon me. She would rise slowly and fall quickly, each time with her liquid love sloshing around me and a shrill sound escaping past her lips. Her sex seemed to be perpetually clenched, pleasuring me to the point that I could no longer remain silent, groaning softly as she moved up and down my hearty length.
Even in the dim light, her wetness upon me seemed to glisten whenever she lifted herself up. I watched with great interest, still amazed that this woman had chosen to share her life and her body and her soul with me.
Releasing my hands, Jyothi braced herself upon my chest, her hair and her breasts swaying nicely as she continued to make love to me, quickening the pace. I repositioned my hands to help lift her, and that was when I felt the primal need start to overwhelm me. Yet I tried to hold back, to simply focus on this special moment, on this special woman, on how much she meant to me, on how my life was much better simply for knowing her, on how special she made me feel because of her love for me.
She called my name, and then her orgasm surged through her and around me. Her fingernails curled deep into my skin, and I groaned from the erotic pain. It was the pain which made me lose my internal battle. No longer could I hold back, my groan increasing in volume as I injected this wonderful woman with my love.
When at last she collapsed upon me, still shuddering and whimpering, I reached down to draw the covers over us once again. I held her close, bonding with her, comforting her, cherishing her, our combined love tricking from her body and onto mine. As the rain continued to grace us with its romantic patter, I caressed her back, and listened intently to her breaths as she calmed and ultimately slipped back into a peaceful slumber…
The next day was a Sunday and I had some chores waiting for me at home. As my brother was to arrive from Malaysia to settle back in India in a software firm, I had to get his quarter in the house organized and cleaned. He was elder to me by four years, had already married but childless so far. His wife was a homemaker from a small village. But after a stint at KL for two years, she had bloomed as a svelte socialite. But more of that some other time.
To make the story short, I was occupied the whole of Sunday with mundane affairs. That Jyothi too was posted for a community posting for screening the school children of a nearby slum for anemia made things easy for me.
The next day was my first working day at the college. I reached there by 8.45 AM. The college timing was from 9 AM to 4 PM from Monday to Friday. As I reached the Chief’s office, I was greeted by my new colleagues, some of who were my teachers. I was particularly interested in a teacher, who was my favorite — Dr. Coelho. She was a young recruit for our batch for teaching histology. That she was newly married, gave we boys lot of stuff to fantasize.
My thoughts flashed back to the days that I was in the anatomy class as student. Dr. Coelho, my favorite teacher was the youngest among the faculty and certainly was a hot piece. She was on every boy’s wet dreams. She had a particular soft corner for me because I used to show up well in time for the class or lab and would always complete my assignments in time.
I would often sit in my lectures or labs dreaming and fantasizing about my lecturer. She’s, to my estimation is about thirty years of age but no normal thirty-year-old. She’s about 5,9″; the longest sexiest legs that are always topped off with luscious stockings that she repeatedly flashes just to check were all still awake. Her breasts are massive, topped off with the roundest, firmest buttocks a man could wish for in a women, also her long flowing locks of natural dark hair which curl round a face that makes me melt on the floor every time she looks at me.
One particular morning after the night before, I was in her lab class, which, I never missed because she was the basis of its appeal. She was looking radiantly fresh that morning like a lady who God had just put on this earth to make every man jealous that they couldn’t have her or so I thought. She was wearing an outfit that looked as though she’d been poured into it.
Sitting there in my seat trying not to be sick as she reamed off facts about a person’s anatomy. She went to stand up to go to the blackboard and as she did I caught a glimpse off her silk panties as she opened those long legs. With the event that I had just witnessed I let out a smile that could only have been described as that of a Cheshire cat, just as I did she made eye contact with me and could see only too plainly that I was pitching trouser tents in my combats. She seemed at first a little embarrassed but let out a smile to me that suggested completely the opposite and then got back on with her teachings about the anatomy.
After the lab had ended we were asked to sign the register for the class. I deliberately waited to be the last to sign it, so that I would then be able to go up to her desk and give the register back. I and a lot of my friends think I act like I’m jack the lad, so when I was walking up towards her desk I put on the best strut not knowing exactly what I was going to achieve by this but thought it might make me look cool in her eyes.
Setting it on her desk I looked at her and she said “you looked very interested in today’s lab” sarcastically and laughed “if only my lesson was on biology, it might have had more appeal to you”
I just looked back trying to work out what she had meant and then the penny dropped. She stood up and walked over to the door shutting it and then proceeded to lock it in the process.
She then walked over towards me and with one swift movement at which I was completely at her mercy she kissed me fully on lips, a kiss that was filled with desire and such passion. Pulling away from me to see what my reaction was, one look at me and she new I was completely under her love spell that mesmerized me with wild abandon.
Slowly like a surgeon operating on a patient she slipped off her shirt which would reveal a sight that could only be described as legendary. Her breasts even larger and more perk than I could have originally anticipated. Her erect nipples were in direct competition with the bulge that had appeared in my combats. She unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the ground without any hesitation revealing a full set of matching lingerie that nearly made my pulsating member explode in my pants.
She then beckoned me to sit down on her seat, as I did so she leant over and started to straddle me. Then with ease unzipped the fly of my combats to release what was now a bulge that at any moment could have punctured a gapping whole in my combats. Like a bird sweeping in on its prey she started giving me head that could be summed up as heavenly. Stopping every now and then to glance at the expression on my face. I reached over her shoulder and tried unclipped the clasps that were holding in those perfectly formed breasts.
After a while of embarrassingly fumbling around the clasps freed themselves and released breasts that dreams are made from. As her breasts fell out of the bra cups her erect nipples brushed my thighs, that sent shivers of excitement up my spine and immediately delivered wad after wad of ropy jisim into her mouth. She mopped up every drop off cum of my shaft being careful that she hadn’t missed a drop. Then she slowly pleasurably wanked me straight back to stiffness again.
Standing up and like a scene out of the hit film American Pie she teasing slipped off those silky thoroughly wet panties off. My eyes could have popped out of their sockets as I say how beautifully made up her snatch was. With just a slight tuff of hair shaped like a triangle just above her creamy slit it was too perfect for belief. I could feel how erect her clitoris was as I slipped my fingers in and out of her soaked honeypot. As I continued my nubbin rubbin to moans and grunts of pleasure I could tell she wanted to feel me deep inside her.
But I wasn’t giving into her that easily and just as she had previously teased me I would now get my own back. Getting off the chair and kneeling in front of her I ushered one of her sexy legs up onto the chair that I had previously been sitting in. I started to tongue her gentle at first but slowly but surely worked into a rhythm until I was tongue fucking her.
She tasted so! Good as I worked my tongue in and out of her slit making sure that with each stroke my nose rubbed her love bud. She came flooding my face and tongue with love juice as with her I lapped it up as though I’d been in the desert for weeks and was only getting my first drink again. Her orgasm was earth shuddering sending waves of pleasure through her entire body from head to toe for what seemed like hours.
I got up from my kneeling position just in time watch what I could only describe ninth wonder of the world bend over her desk and beckon me to insert what was still my very hard love tool into her from behind. Her pussy was so wet still, that I slipped into her like a warm knife through butter. She said to me “I want it really hard” that suited me cause I was always a great fan of rampant animal sex.
This was even more intense than I could have imagined. Her moans of pleasure were drowned out by my grunts as I thrust in and out like a wild bull. She bucked backwards just as hard as I was screwing forwards, the momentum was nearly too much for me as I struggled at points to keep on gravity’s good side. With one last jolting thrust like my life depended on it,
I felt her pussy tighten it’s strangle hold it had around my shaft. We both came together with such a noise that our hard pounding session could have been mistaken for a space shuttle launch. Finally slipping out of her saturated pussy my once fully erect monster dwindled away to the only size that could have been called normality after a marathon session like that.
I got dressed and walked out of the lab after two hours of that extremely rewarding extra curricular activity. Embarrassed we both were when I reappeared for her class later on in the week both it didn’t stop us smiling as we remembered fondly the memories of that day’s wild passion.
I was brought out of the reverie by the applause that my colleagues gave as a welcome note. I was shown into the cubicle that I would use for the duration of my stay there. It was at the far corner of the histology lab. A thoroughly forsaken place as none would venture thus far except to take a shot cut from the rear to the lab from the main building.
Because much of the time it remained closed, none would take the risk of making a detour when they see that the gate was almost permanently shut. I settled comfortably there arranging in my mind the sequence of my lecture later in the day.
It was almost lunch time and so far there was no one to bother me. Not even Jyothy, who had not completed her school screening assignment.
“May I come in Sir?”
It was the same sweet voice of the innocent Rima. I turned around to see her. She was in a skirt and a sleeveless blouse. I could see the traces of her bra through the tight blouse that she was wearing, as there was no apron today to hinder the view. I told her to come in and be comfortable in the chair across the table on my right side.
She said that the whole batch of students had taken off in the afternoon as they planned to attend birthday party of a classmate. I asked her why she did not go.
She replied that she wanted to inform me that there would be no body in the class, as she had approached me about the class schedule earlier.
I thanked her for the consideration. She smiled sweetly and asked me if I had my lunch.
Ii told her ” I am planning to go to the cafeteria. Would you mind joining me?”.
She blushed and said “My pleasure. But I have to join my friends for the party. Will surely make it some other time”.
With that she went out. It was good that she went out. I was already sporting a tent looking at her figure that had filled out in that sexy outfit.
As I went out for lunch, my thoughts were totally on Rima. I reprimanded myself saying that it is not ethical to have such thoughts about a student. But then my instinct counseled saying I was not a permanent teacher here. Even if so, what is the harm in deriving some pleasure between consenting adults as was my experience with Mrs. Coelho.
There were some old acquaintances in the cafeteria. I exchanged pleasantries with them and quietly finished my lunch. I had no clue how the food tasted. My entire attention was on how Rima’s lips would taste. In such a short time, she had become an obsession for me.
The rendezvous with Rima came quite soon, in the next week. There was a debating competition in the University. My chief asked me to help the department in getting some of the students ready to compete in the event. Rima was in the final shortlist, who would have a selection test early next week.
She came to me, asking for tutoring in the skills of debating. I promised to help her if she could come to my house during weekend, as there was not much time. She agreed to the proposal, fortunately, my parents were visiting my sister in Delhi and I had the whole house free for my date with Rima.
She came early in the evening on Saturday. She was wearing a conservative silwar and kameez, which did not give much for imagination to run wild. We had some preliminary talk on the basics of debating skills and gave her some notes to practice on for the next day.
Afterwards we sat chatting about various things on earth. She sat very close to me and I could even smell her body fragrance. We were talking and watching the TV. We made small talk for a while, and I noted that she was giving me unusually strange looks, that day, and I had seen a little gleam in her eyes. We were chatting about this and that, and it took a while before I noticed that she is touching my hand. I couldn’t believe it, but now she started pressing my hand. I just shocked and became nervous. I removed my hand and took my cigarettes from the table. I really needed a smoke at this time, so I lit one. She became very embarrassed. We didn’t speak for a while and then she told me that she wanted to talk me about an important issue. She looked nervous and wouldn’t make much eye contact with me as I looked her.
“Yes, and why not?” I asked. “You may talk it anytime,” I told her.
She became calm. ‘I have something to say to you,’ Rima said, hesitatingly.
“What is it, Rima? What do you have in mind?” I asked her. “It is okay,” I assured her. “Prakash, I know you have a steady girl friend. I am a woman and I am also have a boy friend.” She took a deep breath. “But I have a confession to make. “I have been very fond of you ever since I met you, although you may not have noticed as I am your student.’ Rima said, with great difficulty.
When I heard this I couldn’t believe it. I was speechless, because I had nothing to say.
“I don’t know. What should I say?” I asked her and stared at her in surprise.
She was avoiding me, and hung her head in shame. She looked a little disappointed and I felt that she was rather embraced at having talked like this.
“I hope I didn’t upset you,” she said to me.
“No, it just surprised me,” I told her.
“Is she joking? Is she trying to embarrass me?” I thought, as we both sat there in our own thoughts for some time.
I leered at her. “What do you want?” I asked.
She looked at me, a tear in her eyes. She put her head on my shoulder. “I am helpless to keep it secret from you, anymore,” she said to me.
“Are you being serious?” I asked her.
“What do you mean? Am I joking?” she replied.
“How long have you been feeling like this?” I asked.
“I have been attracted to you from the first time I saw you,” she replied. She burst into tears and said to me, “Don’t withdraw your favors from me. I am really helpless.”
“Then why have you waited so long?” “I asked.
“I tried so many times, but you didn’t pay attention to me?” Rima massaged her palms, “And as a woman, I hadn’t found the opportunity, and I wanted to wait for the right time.”
Rima went in deep thought and I was looking at her as she sat thinking. She had a look of melancholy on her face and every once and a while, I heard a distinct sigh come from her lips. I took a sip of tea and observed her more closely. This time, I thought about her on in a way that I had never thought about her before. She was a woman who had the body of a goddess.
She was extremely pretty and was in her youth at 18. She looked sexy and beautiful. She had a pretty face, and long jet-black hair, tied back in a tight ponytail. She had a perfect, voluptuous figure. Her most striking feature, though, was her skin; it was white like milk. She kept herself lean and fit. Heaven has given her unique breasts and hips. Her tight-fitting shilwar and qameez suit highlighted the swell of her ample breasts and hips. These were quite big, while on the other hand; she had a thin waist. Her slim and extremely good figure had curves in all the right places, being 32-26-34.
She has big black eyes, which were matching on her white colored skin. Her lips were rosy and were just like a wine cup. For sure, she was hotter than any eighteen-year-old was, and she knew it, too.
My cock grew stiff, rising and poking at my shilwar.
I looked up at her face. “Rima, have you taught about this relationship?” I asked her. “As you know well, we are both are committed.”
“Yes, more than 100 times. But love is blind – it doesn’t see.” she replied.
“Just think of the damage it could do our relationships,” I said. “What I should I do? Tell me?”
” I don’t care for anything for myself, but I don’t want to disturb your life, because I love you. I don’t care if it is wrong. I don’t care if it is a sin. I’m not going to go without you now on. I want to have you, one way or another!”
Looked deep into her eyes and said, “Can you keep such a relation with me secret, for ever?”
She nodded her head. There was a flash of shame that came over her face. She was getting visibly embarrassed as her face was reddening.
By that time, I could not control my love for her even, though I kept telling myself that it was wrong. After all, she was the wife of my best friend. But I no longer thought about being a student. The only thing on my mind was getting a piece of that beauty.
I lifted her chin and brushed her hair behind her shoulders. When she looked up at me, I kissed her. She grabbed me and pulled me into a tight embrace; she couldn’t stop herself and kissed me hard. A big smile had spread across her face.
I consoled her and wrapped my arms around her, and pulled her towards me. My fingers were in her hair and moving there. I enfolded her in my arms and started kissing her face gently, tracing her lips, then moving from her forehead to her cheeks, her nose and her chin, and biting her earlobes gently. Gradually, I brought my lips to hers and started kissing them, increasing in force all the time, nibbling her lush lips. She was shivering like a woman who had never been kissed. I put my lips on her rosy lips and she responded eagerly, starving for me. I was kissing her full lips, taking the whole lips between my lips. My tongue darted in and out of her mouth as she moaned with excitement. She held my head and kissed me hungrily, invaded my mouth, tasted it, drank out of it, and licked every part of the cavity.
As she clung to me, her breasts were already pressing to me very tightly. She was really as soft as silk. My arms were around her waist, pulling her to me. We were kissing with the warmth of affection. My hand was moving on her waist while she clung to me, tightly. And then I moved one of my hand downs to her belly, and pinched the tightly, then moved the hand up to her breast. She slipped away a little to give way to my hand as she was pressed very tightly to me. And it was a signal from her that she is ready for anything.
I asked her, “May I touch her this part of you?”
She looked up at me and said, “Don’t even think like this. I am yours.”
I held her breast and she moaned when I squeezed her boob and she showed her response by biting her lips. I was rubbing and squeezing it. As I rubbed them, they grew even bigger in my palms. They were as firm and taut as the breasts of a twenty-year-old girl. I searched for her nipples. She was kissing me passionately, her tongue in my mouth. I was kissing her mouth and she parted her lips and my tongue entered into her cavity.
“Rima, are we right?” I stopped and asked her.
Her face grew red with embarrassment. “I don’t know,” she replied.
“But we can not stop now,” I said, and told her that this was the only way to be loved. Once again, I put my mouth on her lips and started to crush them. I used my teeth to bite her lips lightly until they became red.
I tried to push my hand into her kamiz, but couldn’t find space there because of its tightness. She put her hand behind to lose her kamiz and unzipped it. I pushed my hand in under her qamiz and caressed her belly up and down. I touched her navel; it was so sexy. My hand reached to her breasts, but her bra was a barrier between my hand and the flesh of her tit.
Now her hot breasts were in my hand and I was pressing them softly. At last, I removed her qameez completely and there was the pink colored bra she was wearing. It had a silky shine to it, and presented her breasts to me. My hands traveled to her shoulders and pulled the straps down, before reaching behind and unclipping the bra. Then I removed her bra and now the two most beautifully tanned breasts came into view. I expected them to be sagging but I was wrong. She had a fine pair of well-rounded breasts. She had full size, milky white breasts with brownish areolas, which gave her tits a charming touch. She had some black moles near to her nipples. I couldn’t wait, so I buried my face between her tits and licked, kissed, and sucked them like they were the last breasts on earth.
“What beautiful breasts you have, Rima,” I said to her.
“They are all for you, Prakash, ” she replied.
I kissed, licked and sucked them one by one. Her nipples grew bigger and bigger in my mouth and I coated them with my saliva. At this, her nipples became so hard and became erected. She was moaning deeply. She was kissing and licking my neck like a mad woman, now.
My hand was moving on her belly and reached to her pussy, over her shilwar. I was creasing it, so I untied her shilwar, dragged it down and pulled it out. Now, she was wearing nothing but her high-heeled stripy sandals.
I was stunned to see her thighs; they were like frozen butter. I had never seen such beautiful thighs, so smooth. I was full of envy at her beauty. She had beautiful smooth skin, like velvet. She looked like a Venus carved out of butter. I was very excited, seeing the fair, smooth skin at her belly. Her thighs were rounded and at the end of her white milky thighs there was a beautiful pussy. Oh, what a ravishing pussy she had. It was recently shaved and was shinning due to its whiteness. And I was thanking that if I would be mad to miss this god-sent opportunity. I was now looking directly at one of the best sights in the world! I touched her pussy and, as my fingers peeled back her outer lips, her whole cunt seemed to unfold before my eyes.
Slow or fast, I still had to get a taste of that beautiful pussy and, took her hand from my prick. She spread her thighs wide. I kissed her pussy very softly. My cock was now at its full erection and could not waited any more. I took her hand and put it on my prick. She massaged it gently, than she opened my shilwar and pulled out my cock. She took my dick in her soft, warm hand. My body tensed as I felt Rima’s long, soft fingers encircle my throbbing cock. Her fingers gripped my cock tighter and started to pump it up and down. Never had my cock felt so hard.
She held me tightly and said, “I want you inside me, now.” She went on, “Darling, I want you to do it to me now,” raking my back with her nails. “Do me…do me now!” she was pleading, by now.
Not needing a second invitation, I rose and positioned my body on top of her. She opened her legs wide and exposed her cunt. I put my cock on her pussy hole and rub it against her clit, which was erect, by now. Her cunt lips were thin and pink. Rubbing her clit with my cock made love juices started to flow from her cunt in abundance, wetting her thighs.
She placed my cock at the entrance to her pussy and lifted legs, wrapping them around my ass. I knew that this fuck was going to be the best that I had ever had. As I leaned toward her, she guided my cock into her once again. The head of my dick touched those hot wet pussy lips and I wanted to drive every inch into her on the first thrust. In my experience, there is no better feeling than to sink your cock into a shaved wet pussy. I thought I had died and gone to heaven, the feeling was so good.
Then I could not control my cock as I grasped her buttocks and drove my hard cock into her pussy. I groaned and she gasped as I thrust my dick up her cunt. Rima screamed loudly and said, “Please be a little gentle.” as my huge cock slid up her cunt.
“You do want this, right Rima?”
“Yes! Prakash, you are right, I wanted this,” she said in husky voice.
Her pussy was deliciously moist and snug; it gripped my rod like a vice. It was so warm and soft. I pulled back a few inches, clutched her rump, and then jabbed my entire dick forward. She reared up, cried out, and wrapped her arms and legs around me as my cock head crammed into the core of her cunt. Back and forth, up and down, I was gentle, but I was taking her deep and my hands were busy on her breasts and clit as she moaned and humped me back, hard.
And she was moaning deeply. I looked in her eyes and found them full of lust. She was squirming on the sofa and her hands were massaging my neck. I took her hand and placed it under my balls. She played with my balls with one hand and was massaging my ass with the other. I was sucking her nipple.
My cock was already traveling in and out in her pussy. She was co-operating fully as with every stroke of mine, she was raising her hip to meet my thrusts. She was whispered in my ear, “Shove your entire prick up my pussy and let me have it in for a while.”
After I had done as she told, she said me with a moan, “Fuck me, fuck your wife. I swear that no other man, except my husband, has touched my body, except you in my life. I don’t want an illegitimate relationship with you. I admit you as my husband. I am and I will be your wife. This is heaven! Oh, it’s never been so good!” she cried. “Ahh–I knew you would feel so good. You’re the best!” She told me, she always thought about me when she had sex with her husband
These words aroused me as never before and I started pumping her so hard. I increased my pace, manifold. Harder and harder I slammed her. I lifted legs and placed them on my shoulders. Now she was fully open for my “attack” and I fucked her harder and faster while she moaned and groaned beneath me; her legs wrapped around my waist, as she scratched my ass with her nails. She tried to slow me down a bit by putting her legs around my hips. As she became accustomed to my size, she pushed up with even more force and I pushed into her even harder. As I forced myself into her cunt, my balls were slapping her ass. The sofa started to creak and I was pounding her like hell, now. Her cries of pleasure echoed throughout the room as I fucked her even harder.
We did it for more than twenty minutes. I felt her cunt muscles contract around my cock and I continued stroking very slowly while she came, this was her third orgasm. As she finished her final orgasmic shudder, I was also coming; I asked her whether I should cum out of her.
She said, “No, no I want you to cum inside me. I want you to shoot your hot spunk deep inside my pussy. As if I am your wife.”
This made me more excited. I pulled almost my whole cock out of her cunt and slammed into her with brutal force, one last time filling her cunt with my cum.
We were both trembling and shuddering, our breaths coming in gasps. Gradually, our motions slowed, and then we were still, making soft sounds.
We both opened our eyes and looked into each other’s face. Our lips drew together and we kissed a long, tender kiss that sealed our love forever.
You are so good and so deep,” I said.
“You are no less,” she replied.
Lastly, I kissed her forehead and bit on her tits. Then, we lay in each other’s arms for another 10 minutes.
She asked me, “Shall we go the to washroom?” She got up and wiped me with her bra and we went to bathroom, where she washed herself and me.
We came back and I sat on the sofa, took her hand and pulled her into my lap. She wrapped her arms around me and looked into my eyes with love. She said, “This was the dream of my life – to lay in your lap.”
We kissed each other for a long time. Then, she went to kitchen to make the tea that I asked for. I went into the kitchen behind her, where she was preparing tea. I stood behind her. My hands soon found their way to her breasts, and I cupped them gently.
She didn’t move. My cock was erect once again. I was rubbing it in her ass cleavage. I asked her to let me fuck her pussy from behind. She did not say a single word but untied her shilwar and loose it, so that it fell down to the floor.
She knelt on the kitchen floor on all fours. She raised her hips up and pointed her rosy pussy hole to me. She applied her own saliva to my dick. I parted her cheeks and moved my cock head up and down her wet slit. Then I slowly pushed myself into her dripping wet cunt. She tightened her muscles around my girth as I rocked in and out of her.
I started pushing my dick in and out, while holding her breasts from behind. She was screaming with pain or joy – I don’t know which – but I was screwing her faster and faster than the first time I fucked her. I was pushing my cock as deep as possible. I fucked her very hard and fast, letting my balls slap against her clit.
I fucked her more for than half-hour, this time. I once again filled her cunt with my juice. I lay on her, breathing heavily as sweat poured off of me.
I pulled my cock out from her cunt. She once again wiped my cock, this time with her shilwar. I apologized to her that I had hurt her.
She smiled and told me, “Don’t think about me. If you are happy, I am happy.”
Then we took tea in the living room, in each other’s arms. And she went home after a long hug and a kiss.
She asked, “May I come again, sometime?”
“Sure, whenever my darling wants to come,” I joked. Then she smiled and said, “Anytime you want, but give me a call one day before you want me to come.”
I left her, slowly stroking my sore prick.
There were some younger colleagues in other departments. Radha was one of the friends I made in college. She was by no means the best-looking of my social circle – short with dark hair, fair skin, and a medium build – and I was not immediately attracted to her. During my first few weeks when Jyothi was out on her filed work, I had dated casually with other girls, but the thought of Radha had crossed my mind a few times here and there. On occasion, I felt the same thing from her, and the result was a steady build of sexual tension.
But it was never discussed, and I was fairly certain it wasn’t worth the trouble. Nothing had ever happened between us also because she was always very conservative sexually. Now in the recent past I have been focusing on her more frequently. It became so that she’d eagerly talk about sex, mostly with her girlfriends (who now seem more conservative than Radha), but sometimes also with me. On one such day, Radha and I sat in her apartment after class as we often did, and the topic of conversation somehow ended up focusing on penises.
“Well there’s no way I’d blow an uncircumcised one.”
“Huh, why not?” I asked.
“It’s…just gross. I don’t know. With the extra foreskin and everything.”
“What, it’s just more skin! You mean, you’ve never seen an uncircumcised dick before?”
“No, I haven’t. But I heard that junk gets stuck under there. That’s dirty!”
“No no no. We clean it out in the shower.”
“What do you mean, ‘we?’ Wait, you’re not circumcised?”
Suddenly I felt embarassed. How was it that little conservative Radha was now asking me about my penis? I realized that the conversation was getting a bit personal at that moment and I tentatively responded, “Is that so weird?”
“Oh my god!”
“You’re the only guy I know who isn’t circumcised.”
“Well, believe me, it isn’t as bizarre as you’re making it.”
“What does it look like?”
“It’s just… more skin, like I said. It just flaps over the head when it’s flaccid. When it’s erect, the skin peels back and it looks more or less the same as a circumcised one.”
“Oh, I had no idea. So, it just peels back easily?”
“Yup, so it’s not as different as you think. You still would never suck an uncut dick, though, huh?”
“I don’t know. I’d have to think about that.”
“You know, I’m actually glad that I’m uncut, because you can do a trick when you’re masturbating.”
“A trick! What do you mean? What do you do??”
“Um, you’re a little too excited about this…”
She really was. Her voice became increasingly animated, and it was making me nervous. And I certainly wasn’t prepared for what she was about to say.
“Oh come on, I’m just curious. Show me the trick.”
“What, you want to see…?”
“Well… yeah. Do you mind?”
“You’re not serious.”
“Why? Are you afraid I’ll think it’s small???”
“Oh whatever. I’m hung like a God.”
This was a favorite joke of mine. Even though I’m actually less than average in terms of size, I’d often boast jokingly of my “mighty member,” and Radha always got a good laugh out of it. But the mood of the room was clearly different from all the other times. She was truly curious, and I was not all that eager to whip out my modest 5 inches, especially after claiming it to be of divine dimensions.
“You’re all talk. Let’s see it!”
The moment of truth. Well, hey, Radha’s a good friend. She wouldn’t judge me, right? Right, ok, this is crazy but here goes nothing.
“I don’t believe this… Here.”
I unzipped my pants which dropped to the floor. The tension in the room was unmistakable and I could feel Radha’s eager stares directed at the bulge in my boxers. No turning back – after some hesitation, I dropped my boxers too.
She immediately remarked, “Whoa, it looks really different. Is that the tip of the head?”
“Yup. And see, the skin peels back, and there’s the whole head.” At that point I was glad she commented on the shape rather than its size. It was a little cool in the room – not so flattering.
“Oh, wow. So what’s the trick?” she asked with increased enthusiasm.
“Well, that’s actually it. When you pump it with your hand the foreskin peels back and forth and it feels good. See?”
She simply stared for a few seconds. Even more tension filled the room as I stood awkwardly with my cock growing in my hand. Realizing the absurdity of the situation, I stopped working my cock and joked, “well, that’s male anatomy 101. Class dismissed,” and reached down for my boxers.
Then she interrupted, “wait, you can’t just stop!”
As I pulled my boxers back up I asked, “what do you mean? I showed you the trick.”
“Well,” she seemed nervous, “I haven’t seen you… you know, get hard yet.”
I paused for a moment and responded with an anxious laugh and muttered, “uhh, you realize how weird this is, right?”
“Come on. I’m just curious. Let me see.”
At that moment, the awkwardness that had filled the room was replaced with a different energy. I felt less self-conscious but still hesitant.
She urged on, “come on, this’ll be between us. I won’t tell anyone.”
It then seemed like I had nothing further to be embarassed about. She’d already seen me at my miserable flaccid state. I shrugged and agreed, “ok,” and dropped my boxers again. My hand worked my cock more deliberately this time letting my cockhead pump in and out of my fist. Radha looked on with quiet fascination. Aside from the sound of my own heavy breathing, the room was silent. With Radha’s eyes on me, it took little time for me to grow hard. I looked at her as if to imply, “I’m hard. Now what?”
Then it happened. Radha broke the silence in the room and uttered the magical words, “want me to take over?”
My cock jumped in my hand, and I mumbled, “really? I mean, yes. I mean, if you want.” I laughed nervously.
Her lips parted with a smile as she nodded and took a step forward. In that moment, my world went into slow motion. Her little hand reached over and held my cock. Her short fingers felt incredibly soft, and a little cold. She looked into my eyes for a brief moment as if to get the green light to continue. My hands fell to my sides. She proceeded to stroke my cock gently the way I had shown her. As I relished the sensation, my mind was racing. “Is this really happening? Is this actually Radha?” But all that came from my mouth were only moans.
“Am I doing the trick right?” she asked.
A breathy “uh huh” was all I could manage.
After another ten seconds or so, she stopped. I flashed her a look to communicate my disappointment.
With some apparent hesitation, she muttered, “I, uh, said I would never do this…” Radha then dropped to her knees cautiously while maintaining eye contact. My heart skipped a beat.
As she casually pulled her hair back behind her ears I looked down to notice her low-cut shirt revealing a hint of cleavage. As nice as this was, my attention was drawn back to her eyes and then to her lips. Radha’s eyes then shifted down to my anxious cock. She looked at it for a few long seconds and said, “I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”
“Me neither,” I responded quickly and nervously.
She looked up, “Only if you want me to.”
“Are you kidding?”
She flashed me a smile, and in the sexiest voice I’d ever heard, she replied,”You’re lucky I’m so curious,” and then licked the head slowly and deliberately. “Ohhh,” I moaned. She then gave my underside a long, intoxicating lick. The sight alone, Radha kneeling in front of me with my shaft in her hand and her tongue gliding along, was enough to drive me crazy.
“Ok honey, I’ll stop teasing. Ready?”
She kissed the tip, opened her mouth just wide enough, slid her lips down taking me in. “Ahhhh…,” I sighed in complete ecstasy. The warm, wet, caresses of her swirling tongue sent shivers throughout my body. “This is heaven,” I thought to myself. Then she moaned to get my attention and our eyes met. She broke her rhythm for a second, and pulled off from my cock.
“Oh god, please don’t stop…!”
“Sorry, I’ve satisfied my curiosity. How badly do you want me to continue?” she asked.
“More than anything in the world. Please don’t do this to me.”
A devilish smile crept up on her once generous lips. “I want to hear you beg for it.” She began to pull my boxers back up my legs.
“Oh come on! Please, please, I need this! I beg you!”
“Do you want to come in my mouth?” It then struck me that I was not dealing with the Radha I’d always known. I’d become putty in her hands. The thought of coming in her mouth completely took over my psyche, and she was in total control.
“Yes, please..! Um, I um, I mean… if you’ll let me –” I’d never heard myself stutter so much.
“Well how badly do you want it?” She maneuvered the boxers back over my throbbing cock.
“I’ll return the favor, I’ll do whatever you want me to!! Please don’t do this!”
She smiled “Ok, ok. Don’t worry, you don’t have to do anything. Today’s your lucky day. I’m going to suck you dry, honey ”
Her fingers traced under my boxer’s waistband and she tugged down releasing my cock back to the cool air in the room. Her cool hands wrapped around my eager cock which now looked longer than I’d ever seen it. She opened her mouth again, wider this time, and engulfed my cock, first with her hot breath, then closing her lips down on my shaft. She sucked aggressively, with her head bobbing back and forth causing her hair to bounce. I looked down to see Radha, one of my closest college friends, releasing all the sexual tension that had built up in the past 3 years. I couldn’t believe what was happening, yet there she was sucking me off like the world was ending. I had never felt anything so good in my life. I began calling her name, louder and louder. “Radha… oh god, Radha… ahhhh!”
She responded by sucking harder and moaning loudly.
I warned her, “Oh god, I’m close!! I’m gonna come!!!” Her head moved faster!! Oh my god, I’m actually going to come into Radha’s mouth! Then it happened, I grabbed the back of her bobbing head with both hands and held on for dear life. I came for what seemed like a solid minute. “Ahhhhhhhh!” the most primal sound I’d ever made.
She swallowed and continued to suck me until I went soft. As she pulled off my exhausted cock, in the most casual tone she said, “so?”
“That was unbelievable. You’re incredible! I didn’t think a blowjob could be this good!”
“Yeah, me neither. I thought you’d like it.” she said as she got back on her feet.
Once the flood of emotion and pleasure was over, it all seemed so surreal. There stood Radha, who before then had been strictly a friend. The long drawn accumulation of sexual tension that was once there between us was released in an instant and I felt liberated.
Not sure of what to say, I cautiously asked, “So does this change things?”
She thought for a moment. “Only if you want it to. I mean, we can do this again.” She smiled, “if you want.”
- The End –
It’s a trip that I have been waiting to make for a very long time, but haven’t had the guts to do it. Today I am swallowing my pride and doing it, regardless of what anxiety I may be feeling. The doctors waiting office is welcoming and the seats are relatively comfortable. But I just can’t shake my fears.
“Next” the nurse calls as she opens the waiting room doors. The nurse is a plain woman. Average in every way. Her height is about 5’5, she has a medium build, medium breast size and her personality is about as plain as her looks. She neither smiles nor makes conversation as she takes my weight, height, and blood pressure.
She drops my dressing gown onto the exam table. Advising me to remove everything but panties and to put the gown on backward so it opens in the front. She swiftly shuts the door and the silence is nearly deafening.
I change quickly. The room is extremely cold as I strip out of my sweater and jeans and fold them on a waiting chair, discretely placing my bra between the 2 so it is not sitting out inappropriately.
The examine table is just as cold as the room. My flesh is broken out in goose pimples and the dressing gown is nearly transparent it is so thin. I sit, alone, my ankles crossed and my arms crossed across my front in an attempt to stay warm.
The waiting seems eternal, even though i know it’s only a few minutes. When the plastic surgeon enters some of my anxieties are relieved. He is a handsome man, in his younger 40′s, who obviously takes care of himself. His head is totally shaved and he has a warm and comforting smile.
“Hello, what can I help you with today?”
He asks, shaking my hand and flipping through my medical chart.
I feel the tears start to well in my eyes. This is my no means easy for me.
“I just wanted to get a bid on how much it would take to fix me.”
He stops and looks up at me, seeing me try to blink away the tears, grasping my dressing gown closed and avoiding eye contact.
“Hey now,” He coos, coming over and placing a hand on my shoulder. “I am sure it is not as bad as all that. How about you tell me what you don’t like about yourself and we take a look?”
The examination table is at a reclining position and I lean back, blinking away the last of my tears (I hope) and try to catch my breath.
“Well, I hate the stretch marks on my breasts. I have tried everything on them and nothing helps. I was wondering how laser surgery would help?”
He quickly parts the gown in the front and my breasts pop out to him. The room is so cold that my nipples look like little pink pencil erasers. Even more embarrassment sets in as he starts to examine my breasts.
“Sorry, it’s really cold in here.” I stutter, despite the fact that I can feel myself starting to sweat.
He laughs softly.
“It’s ok. A natural human response. You’re right. The room is pretty cold. That’s my fault; I tend to run a little on the warm side.”
He is right. His hands are very hot against my skin. I can feel my nipples soften as he cups my breasts, feeling their light weight and checking my skin.
“Have you considered implants at all?”
He inquires softly, still examining me.
“Yes, but I don’t like the feeling of them.”
He looks up at me with a little bit of surprise apparent on his face.
“Have you had a consultation and felt some of the silicone and saline inserts before?”
“Oh no, I felt them on another woman once. I haven’t been able to be with a woman who has them since.”
Suddenly, I realize what I just said and feel my eyes grow wide.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I saw on your chart that you were married and I thought I saw a males name in your spouse listing, I must have mis-red.”
“No, I am married, I just…” I stumble on, just digging myself in deeper.
He is looking at me with an eyebrow raised. Knowing that there will be no sneaky way to get out of this, at least not with my brains current anxiety riddled state, I bluntly answer,
“Well, I guess that answers my question! It isn’t a big deal either way. I just asked because sometimes adding a small implant can help fill the breast back out and makes the depth of stretch marks less noticeable. With how old the stretch marks are and your skin pigment, I am not sure how effective laser surgery will be.”
I can feel the tears start to well up in my eyes again and take a deep breath so a sob doesn’t escape me.
He looks up at me again; I can barely see him through the blur of tears.
“Why does it bother you so much?” he asks
“It’s just so damned UGLY”
I spat as a tear rolls down my cheek. I quickly wipe it away with the back of my hand and lean my head up for the rest of the tears to drain.
We sit with a moment of silence. I am pulled back into the moment of things when I realize he is still cupping my breasts in his hot hands.
I look down at him and he meets my eyes.
“Are you ok? Do you want to stop the exam?”
I shake my head no and he manipulates my breasts a bit more, dragging his fingers down to feel the depth of the stretch marks and squeezing gently to feel how much firmness I have lost from nursing my children
“Ok, what else are you concerned about?”
“Well, I have more stretch marks on my thighs.”
“Ok, let’s see.”
He opens the lower part of my dressing gown and I part my legs for him, realizing that I am really wearing too small of panties for such an exam. I really was not thinking. They are by no means pretty, just a simple cotton thong, but the fabric is barely covering me up and I am scared that part of my labia may be peeking out.
He goes to work examining my thighs. Again, squeezing them, running his fingers down them to feel the depth. I find myself very glad that I nair-ed my legs recently.
As he examines me, I decide I am going to ask him about the big one. My major surgery that I am so desperate for. I wasn’t sure until now, but I am going to ask.
“I think we are looking at about the same results on these as on your breasts. They are basically the same size and texture.”
I nod. Not able to do anything else.
“Alright. Is that all?”
I shake my head back and forth.
“Ok. This one is even harder for me. I have had consultations for this before. Please be nice, because I am really sensitive about it.”
“Okay, what are we working with?”
“I have really large inner labia that I would like to have removed”
“I am sure they are not as large as you think. You would be surprised how many women come in here asking about this. Let’s just take a look and see.”
I stand up and hook my thumbs into my panties.
“I need to leave the room.” he says as he holds up his hand.
“I don’t care. You are about to look anyway. What is the point in walking outside for 30 seconds?” and continue to pull my panties down before he can object.
My heart is slamming as I sit back down, the freezing room is almost inviting against the heat of my skin. I sit down with my thighs pressed together, still not able to just open them.
My doctor sits back down on his examination stool and rolls forward and puts his hands gently on thighs.
“Just let me know when you are ready.”
Again, I take a deep breath, lean back, and open my legs for the doctor. I can’t make eye contact. I am so embarrassed. I feel him start to examine me. Gently squeezing my labia and pulling on them slightly.
“Can you part them for me?” he asks.
I look up, confused.
“Medical protocol. I should not do it alone in a room with you. I can call in a nurse if you are not comfortable?”
“Oh no. It’s ok. I am comfortable touching myself.”
I blush again, realizing yet again what I said a minute too late.
He smiles at me.
“It’s ok. In my eyes everyone masturbates and anyone who says they don’t is either lying or really missing out.”
I reach down and slip the tip of my middle finger into my vaginal opening and pull my finger upward to part my lips. Out of habit, I pull upward and lightly touch my clit and then remove my hand quickly.
I close my eyes again and he examines me some more. Pushing my labia out, measuring them with his fingers, pressing them together again. He reaches up and pulls my clitoral hood back and then presses it back down. My hips buck gently for a second.
My eyes snap open, “I’m sorry!” I cry.
He laughs again, “It’s ok. Totally normal, biological response. Not your fault. Sorry if I pressed too hard. Do you want to remove any of the clitoral hood also?”
“No. I know that my clit and hood are a little on the large side also, but I actually like that. I want to leave the hood to protect my clit.”
He nods in agreement as he continues manipulating my labia.
With sudden horror I realize that I can feel my labia thickening and my pussy warming up. Oh no. How the hell can I hide something that he is looking straight at?
“Do your labia get in the way during intercourse or masturbation?”
“Sometimes during sex. Not too often during masturbation.”
“Do you generally masturbate internally or externally?”
“It depends on my mood.”
Oh, no. Now I can feel my clit start to get erect. What the hell do I do?
“Do you touch your clitoris directly? Or to either side.”
“Depends on my mood and what I’m doing…” I breathe.
“Can you show me how you usually place your hand when you do so? I don’t want to think about removing skin that is beneficial.”
I drop my hand between my legs and again run my finger from my opening to my clit.
“Sometimes like this…” I say, holding back my hood with my ring and pointer finger and laying my middle finger directly on my clit.
“Or this…” laying all 3 fingers flat on top of my hood, clitoris, and open labia.
“Sometimes this…” lightly grasping my clit through my hood with my thumb and pointer finger and gently stroking it outward.
Crap. My clit is even harder and sticking out from my hood now. My labia are starting to ache. At least they are pressed together to hide any wetness that may be starting.
“What do you do with your labia when you masturbate internally?”
Crap again. My only hope is that he doesn’t notice. I know that is a very slim chance. The man doesn’t have a medical degree for nothing.
I drag my finger upward again, parting my labia and spreading them open with my middle and pointer finger, then I move my finger back down and insert it slightly, curling it and pulling forward toward my pelvic bone. I realize that without thinking I have fallen into my usual masturbatory pose with one hand curled on my chest, the middle finger of one hand in my vagina and the thumb of the same hand resting on my hood.
I look forward at my doctor and begin to remove my hand so I can close my dressing gown…than I realize a certain bulge in his scrubs. I don’t know what possesses me but I press my finger back in and pull again, keeping a close eye on the bulge in his pants.
He feels my gaze lingering and covers himself with my chart.
“My apologies…” he says, blushing deeply.
“It’s ok,” I reply. “It’s a natural biological response, right?”
He nods softly, again looking back to my vulva. I move my hand out and pet at my pussy. Cupping my labia and squeezing gently, letting my hips grind gently into the heel of my hand.
My doctor is still looking at me in a way that a man has never done before.
I rest myself back on my reclined exam table and cup one of my breasts, feeling my nipple poke into my palm. the other hands I put to work rolling my labia through my fingers before settling my thumb and pointer finger on either side of my clit again and stroking my hood forward and back.
I close my eyes and enjoying my stroking for a couple minutes. Letting my breathing become deeper.
When I open my eyes my doctor has moved to a standing position. His erection is very apparent through the thin scrubs. He takes a couple steps toward me.
“I could lose my license for this…” he breathes.
The idea of the danger sends a small wave of pleasure through my genitals. Closing my eyes again I buck my hips forward to accommodate my searching fingers and slip them into my opening. Savoring my warmth and wetness.
When I open my eyes again he is standing over me and looking at my body.
“Do you have any idea how many women I have seen come in here? How many breasts and vulvas I see? What is it about your body that is driving me so crazy?”
I moan slightly, biting at my lower lip and collecting some more of my juice to use as lubrication for my clit. I pull the rest of my hood back and begin probing with my middle finger, pinching my nipple with the other hand.
“I know why your really here. It’s not because you think you’re ugly. It’s because no one has ever taken the time to tell you how beautiful you really are…” he breathes down at me.
“For the life of me, I do not understand why you women want to cut parts of yourself away. Feel your labia…”
I look up at him
I reach down and grab my source of so much embarrassment and shame, looking up at him.
“Touch them softly, squeeze them softly…do you see how nice that feels? Why do you want to cut that away?”
I am at his will at this point. Whatever assertion I was feeling has drained away. I feel hypnotized by his words.
“As a woman, even a bisexual one, you will never understand how labia like that feel wrapped around your cock. Many men would ignore any scar or stretch mark on your body for a chance to feel it.”
“No men I have met…” I mumble softly.
“Yes, MEN.” he stresses, “you are just too young to appreciate it. You have spent too much time with boys passing their time with porn. Boys that don’t appreciate it.”
I drop my other hand and place one to my dripping slit and the other up to my clit. He turns to watch me up close and his erection brushes my arm through his scrubs. He does not even seem to notice.
“Have you ever REALLY showed someone what you like?”
I shake my head no while I lightly touch at myself.
I don’t need any more encouragement and plunge fingers inside, eagerly pressing at my gspot. The other hand I raise to my mouth where I suck my fingers clean and then lube them up with spit to drop down to my clitoris and start rubbing.
As always, the 2 spots being stimulated is mind blowing. I can barely think about anything else. The feeling of being watched, of being found so attractive is amazing. The doctor never touches me, never tries to penetrate me or kiss me. He just watches with his mouth slightly opened, breathing deeply and adjusting his hard cock here and there.
I have never felt so attractive in my life and vigorously play with myself, for once in my life not ashamed of my large private area or the marks scattering my breasts and thighs.
I feel my orgasm approaching a few times, but slow down when it comes too close. I want this to last, I am fearful to go back to feeling so ugly and unwanted again.
Finally I am at a point of no return and allow myself to release. My back arches, my legs spread wide as I feel my pussy pulsing in hard rhythm. I grit my teeth, trying as hard as I can not to cry out when the wave of pleasure washes over me.
I finish and lay back, my body still twitching with the remaining effects of my orgasm, feeling my wetness soaking through the paper of the exam table.
My doctor stands, adjust his cock so it is trapped behind the waist band of his scrubs and says in all seriousness,
“ma’am. I will be happy to take your money if you insist. However, I suggest you think long and hard about this first.”
I nod, sitting up and closing the dressing gown over my body.
He opens the exam room, looks back, tips me a wink and says loudly,
“Let’s schedule a follow up visit for next month.”
- The End –
(Note: It is strongly suggested that you read Chapters One and Two first.)
Tiffany had a dirty idea. She elevated the foot of the table some more with the electronic control, and Amanda’s legs rose higher until she was almost completely upside down. Only the leather straps at her arms and ribs, and the metal stirrups holding her legs kept her from sliding off. In her now almost completely inverted position Amanda was able to take more of the doctor’s huge meatstick without gagging, as much as the older nurse had minutes before, in spite of her lack of experience.
The slender brunette was now sucking cock in earnest . . . and liking it. The scent of the handsome Negro’s sweat mingled with that of the nurse’s saliva already coating his big club, not to mention the strange texture of the thing: smooth and slick, spongy yet firm, and the sense of power it gave her; knowing that she was giving the former star so much pleasure–he was groaning now–all these feelings were new and exciting to the young, inexperienced girl.
Tiffany stood on a low stool between Amanda’s thighs with her face poised just above the young girl’s wide open pussy. Faith bent to suck one of the teen’s puffy pink nipples while Nurse Constance took the other. Nearly half of the doctor’s big dick disappeared into Amanda’s sweet mouth. Dr. Scott and Tiffany shared a kiss directly over the teen’s recently shaved snatch, while he continued to stuff more of his huge cock in the girl’s mouth.
They took turns eating that sweet creamy dessert and shared her taste in their kisses. Amanda was flooded with so much sensation from so many directions she could hardly process it all. Her young pussy was being eaten, which she had only tried for the first time a few minutes ago. Her sensitive nipples, which she had learned could give pleasure but which she was too embarrassed to share, were now being expertly sucked by a twenty year old college coed and a professional nurse.
Strangest of all, she had a huge black cock lodged halfway down her throat and she loved it! It was true. Derek Scott had eased the fat head of his dick past the point at which most women gagged, but this gorgeous young teenager had taken it with hardly a whimper. A trickle of drool ran from the corner of her mouth, but no sound of protest came from her.
Four pairs of eyes (five, if they only knew it) watched as the doctor eased his thick tool from the girl’s lips. She stretched to give it a last lick as it withdrew. “I want to fuck her tits,” he said. Faith and Nurse Constance raised their heads from Amanda’s nipples and lubed the skin between her breasts with their tongues. With her body almost upside down, Amanda’s breasts stood out from her body in the most enticing way. They sagged down towards her face only very slightly. Dr. Scott took them in his hands for the first time and squeezed gently, his coal-black hands a striking contrast on her white skin.
“Oh Jesus,” he said. He placed his shaft between the round beauties and pushed them together around his cock. As he slid up and down in that exquisite place his heavy balls bumped on Amanda’s chin. She lifted her head to bathe them with her tongue, making the doctor groan with pleasure, and amazing the other women. They couldn’t believe how much the girl liked cock.
Tiffany continued to eat Amanda’s pussy and the young teen felt the need begin to build in her again. She pushed her cunt against the coed’s mouth. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!” said Derek suddenly. Tiffany stopped what she was doing to watch. Nurse Constance had grabbed his shaft and started jerking it, and both she and Faith bent to catch his seed in their mouths.
The sexy nurse got her lips around his dick just as he began to spurt. His first two shots of cum filled her mouth to overflowing and she pulled back, allowing Faith to slip her mouth over the purple head. Nurse Constance, holding the thick shaft in her fist, pumped jet after jet into the coed’s hot mouth. Faith swallowed as fast as she could but some of the thick viscous fluid leaked out and ran down her chin.
Amanda looked on in fascination and wished that she could have a taste. Nurse Constance seemed to read her mind, for she pulled the dick from Faith’s mouth while it was still oozing cum. The Director of Nursing fed the slimy black dick into the lovely teenager’s mouth. Amanda sucked it eagerly, relishing the strange taste.
Derek pulled his cock from Amanda’s lips when he could bear the sensation no longer. As it slipped from the teen’s hungry mouth she had a feeling of loss and disappointment, like an important element of her life, newly found, had been taken away again. She looked at the now flaccid but still huge black fuckstick with longing.
Faith and Nurse Constance shared a cum-drenched kiss directly over Amanda’s face, licking the overflow from each other’s chins. The horny nurse saw the longing in the teen’s eyes and bent to kiss her. The tongues of the sexy nurse and her young protege swirled around together in a glaze of sticky white splooge. “Ooo, let me,” giggled Faith, and she bent to have a turn sucking face with the gorgeous teenager.
“Fuck, that’s hot!” said Tiffany, looking down from between Amanda’s smooth thighs, her cheeks shiny with the youngster’s copious juices. After all of the doctor’s cum had been cleaned up, shared, and swallowed, the young volunteer’s four ravishers looked at each other and smiled. Their hopes for the girl had been exceeded way beyond expectations.
Her body, so tantalizing when modestly clad in a nurse’s uniform, was even more perfect than anyone could have imagined. Her skin, so smooth, was free from even the smallest blemish, not even a tiny pimple on her little round ass. Her flesh so firm, so resilient. Her breasts, so big, yet so perfectly shaped and apparently unaffected by the laws of gravity. Her desire, until now untapped, appeared to be limitless. They had discovered a treasure beyond description.
Amanda looked into each of their faces and she didn’t understand what that smile was all about, but she knew that she had pleased them. She felt good about herself; she liked helping people. After a moment she spoke up in a meek voice. “Dr. Scott? I want you to fuck me.”
At this, the four fell about laughing. Amanda smiled but she really didn’t see what they found so funny. “Shit, girl!” said the doctor. “I’m an old man. You gotta give me a little while, not like when I was twenty.”
“Oh Doctor, I don’t think you’re old,” said Amanda, afraid she had offended the big man. “Is that why you’re all laughing?”
“It’s not just that,” said Nurse Constance. “We just had some of the wildest sex of my life and you–well, we thought you were so innocent, but now you’re the first to ask for more. It’s not what we expected.”
Amanda blushed deeply. My God! She thought. She had been upset because Dr. Scott treated her like a child, and now everyone thought she was a total slut! If the girls at school ever heard about this, or her mother–she would absolutely die of shame. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she be normal?
Tiffany had perhaps the tenderest feelings for the young girl. She stroked Amanda’s hair saying, “Sweetie, don’t be embarrassed! You’re beautiful and sexy and I think it’s so cool that you’re horny besides. I’m a little jealous, really.”
Even as she spoke so kindly Tiffany couldn’t help staring at the lovely teen’s body with lust in her heart. They were all looking at her (including the unseen watcher), devouring her with their eyes. She was just so delectable, especially those amazing tits which stood out so enticingly from her slender body as she hung–
“Oh shit!” said Tiffany. “You must be getting really uncomfortable like that,” and she immediately lowered the table to a horizontal position. Faith helped her undo the leather straps so the girl could move her arms and legs. They were about to take her legs from the stirrups when Nurse Constance spoke.
“Why don’t you leave her feet there for the moment?” she said. “If she wants Derek to fuck her she’s going to need lots of lubrication.” Speaking to Amanda she asked, “Are you a virgin, dear?”
“No, of course not,” she replied, thinking of her single unsatisfactory tryst on the beach.
“Even so,” the nurse went on, “I doubt you’ve had a cock the size of Derek’s.”
That was an understatement! Before today the young teen didn’t even know that cocks as big as Derek’s existed! “Well, no . . .” she began.
“Then I’m going to help you get ready for him,” said the nurse. “Just relax and enjoy.” With that the Director of Nursing went to a drawer for a pair of disposable latex exam gloves and began to pull them on. Dr. Scott eased himself down on the couch, a fresh beer in his hand and a big smile on his face.
“Wh–what are those for?” the lovely teenager asked, her pulse quickening.
Nurse Constance held a hand out in front of her, snapping the glove into place. “Oh, it’s nothing to be nervous about,” said the nurse. “You’re just going to help Dr. Scott realize a fantasy that he’s had for a long time. Isn’t that right Derek?”
“Fuckin? A,” said the doctor.
Tiffany stood at the head of the table and comforted the frightened girl. “It’s OK,” she said. “Nurse Constance knows what she’s doing. She’s a professional.” Faith and Tiffany grinned at each other. They had both been the recipient of the nurse’s ‘professionalism’ in the past.
The words were reassuring. But when the Director of Nursing squeezed about half a tube of K-Y jelly into the palm of one hand Amanda tried to sit up. What the . . . “Do you really need that much?” she asked in a voice squeaky with apprehension. Tiffany gently pushed her shoulders down to the table.
“No, I don’t really need it,” the nurse replied. “It’s part of the fantasy. Don’t worry, it’ll feel good.” She put her gloved hands together and slathered the lube between them until both hands were coated with a thick, shining layer of clear goo. Nurse Constance certainly had a flair for the dramatic. She held her hands up as she rubbed them together so that they gleamed in the bright exam light, and everyone could hear the slurpy squishing sounds they made.
Amanda lay back, no longer restrained but with her feet resting in the gynecological stirrups. They held her legs wide apart, raised, and bent at the knee. Her pussy was wide open and wet with anticipation. The brunette teen’s head was raised, a slightly anxious look on her face. Tiffany took one of her hands and held it. “You’re going to love this, baby,” she said.
Nurse Constance began to slide two fingers along Amanda’s vulva. Her fingers slipped up and down just inside the wide-open outer lips, spreading warmth and K-Y jelly everywhere they touched. The shy teenager watched in a kind of fascinated horror, her mouth slightly open. “That’s so sexy,” said Faith. She sat next to Derek on the couch and stroked his dick.
Tiffany placed an arm under Amanda’s head so that she could watch what was happening between her legs without straining. The formerly innocent teenager couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off the sight in front of her–and neither could anyone else, including the watcher.
The Director of Nursing was slowly teasing the slick labia and making Amanda forget her inhibitions. After a few minutes of caressing the girl’s pink folds the crafty nurse began to tease her clit with one forefinger while the middle finger of the other hand eased slowly into Amanda’s tunnel of love. “Ah,” she gasped.
With her eyes locked on Amanda’s the sexy nurse found the girl’s g-spot with her finger and began to lightly stroke it. “Oh my God,” the teenager panted. Her hips were rocking now and the experienced nurse picked up her rhythm and timed her caresses to match. It took only a minute of this treatment before the horny teen closed her eyes and began to moan softly. The need inside her built quickly.
But Nurse Constance wasn’t about to let her cum so soon. She withdrew her finger from the girl’s cunt and moved the other from her clit, and went back to sliding two fingers along the girl’s slick vulva. Amanda’s eyes popped open with a start. She couldn’t understand why the nurse had stopped just as she was about to orgasm, but she didn’t want to ask: it would seem too wanton.
The answer, of course, was delayed gratification. Nurse Constance was drawing out both Amanda’s pleasure and her own. She next placed her palms together, fingers spread, and slowly eased both of her middle fingers into the young girl’s juicy channel. When they had gone in as far as they could go she eased them out again almost all the way. She repeated this until the slim teenager began to move with her again.
Amanda’s breathing was shallow and she stared at the violation of her sweet pussy. Nurse Constance paused only for an instant and then slipped both of her third fingers in, too. She allowed the girl to adjust to the thickness of the four fingers in her snatch and then began to increase the tempo. Amanda was really getting into it. Everyone in the room could hear the squelching sound as the naughty nurse plunged her fingers in and out of the young girl’s sloppy cunt.
Tiffany still had an arm under Amanda’s head, propping it up, and now she began to lightly pinch the girl’s nips with her free hand, alternating between one and the other. At this, the teenager began to moan aloud, her juices flowing freely. All she needed was a bit of stimulation on her clit to cum instantly, but Nurse Constance was already using both hands and so was Tiffany. Of course, her own hands were free . . .
Again the older woman, her eyes locked on Amanda’s, seemed to know just what she was thinking. “Go ahead, touch yourself,” said the Director of Nursing. The gorgeous eighteen-year-old just stared back into the eyes of the sexy nurse, her mouth open. She knew her cheeks had turned bright red. How could she possibly caress her own body in front of these people, people she hardly knew?
“Go on Amanda, do it!” Tiffany whispered in her ear.
She heard Tiffany’s voice, but Amanda didn’t turn her head. All she saw were the gloved fingers of Nurse Constance plunging in and out of her cunt, and those smoldering eyes staring into hers. Her body was crying out for relief, she was so close to the edge . . . she couldn’t take it any longer. Amanda’s right hand slowly crept between her legs. Her clit was standing up, exposed, covered with shiny lube. “That’s right,” Tiffany said very quietly. The tip of her middle finger edged closer to her smooth snatch. Dr. Scott was holding his breath, his cock hard as stone once again.
Amanda’s breath came in ragged gasps, her mouth dry. Her finger hesitated just above her snatch. The idea of masturbating with people watching was so embarrassing, yet she needed to cum so badly. She closed her eyes. The others in the room (and the unseen watcher) were spellbound, no one said a word. Would the girl’s natural modesty stop her from letting go? With her eyes closed, Amanda knew only what her body was telling her.
The tip of her middle finger covered the last inches, moving quickly and lightly over her pink clit. A few seconds was all it took. “Oh God yes!” she screamed. With her head thrashing from side to side the teenager wailed almost inhuman cries, her incredible body shaking spasmodically. When she began to cum Tiffany took her arm from under Amanda’s head and used both hands to twist her nipples hard. This sent her over the edge again. “Oh fuck! Yeah yeah yeeeaahhh!” Her orgasm seemed to go on and on, hips shaking, toes curling.
Slowly the waves of pleasure abated, and Amanda lay still, catching her breath. A light sheen of perspiration covered her perfect body and tiny beads stood out on her forehead. Her long chestnut hair hung down over the edge of the exam table, one sweat-dampened lock across her face.
“She’s ready for you now Doctor,” the naughty nurse said with a suppressed grin.
“Ready?” he laughed. “I think she needs about a week to recover after that.”
“Oh, Doctor, please don’t wait!” cried Amanda. “I want you now. I want you to–to fuck me,” she finished in a lowered voice, eyes cast down.
Derek Scott didn’t need to be asked twice. He’d been aching for a chance to do the teenaged cutie since the first second he laid eyes on her, and the spectacle of her massive loss of inhibitions moments before had only inflamed his lust. His cock was as hard as it had ever been in his life, and pulsating with hot blood.
Nurse Constance, still standing between Amanda’s wide open legs, greeted him. Grabbing his dick at the base she shoved the fat purple head in her mouth, her eyes turned up to look into his. But Derek was fixated on the sweet shaved snatch spread open on the exam table. Nurse Constance raised her mouth reluctantly from his cock and used both gloved hands to spread a liberal coating of KY jelly–mixed with Amanda’s cum–up and down the doctor’s ebony axe handle. “Fuck her good,” she said.
Tiffany stood at the teenager’s head where Faith joined her to get a better look. They had both been treated more than once by the doctor’s long thick instrument and they knew that apart from its size the owner was skilful. Dr. Scott stood between her legs and placed one hand on Amanda’s thigh and with the other guided his cock to the girl’s juicy opening. They were all struck again by the contrast of Derek’s black skin on Amanda’s pale white body.
Dr. Scott teased them both by sliding the head up and down her slick labes. Amanda reached out for his cock. When she had sucked it earlier her hands were strapped down; and in fact she had never held a man’s dick before, especially one of such impressive dimensions. Derek removed his own big black hand and let her take him in her small white one. God it’s enormous, she thought. Can it really fit in me?
She placed the tip at her opening and pulled him towards her. Derek eased the head in gently causing Amanda to gasp, and quickly withdrew. “You tell me how fast to go baby,” he said.
With her hand still on his cock the hot teen urged the big man towards her again. His dick sank several inches into her tight cootchie, where he paused. Amanda figured this was about as far up her as anything had ever gone, and at least half of the doctor’s fat cock was not yet inside her. “Oh God,” she said. “More. Give me more.”
Dr. Scott pushed forward an inch, then back a bit. In and out, a little deeper with each thrust. Amanda moaned–but was it pleasure or pain? It seemed the two sensations were becoming confused in her mind. Her cunt was being stretched in places she never knew she had, and still the doctor’s tremendous length was not completely buried. She drew him deeper into her tight snatch.
With a final lunge Derek shoved his dick up to the balls in the girl’s slick velvet vise. Amanda screamed in apparent agony but he was not about to stop now.
“Oh yes, fuck me!” she cried. “Your cock is splitting me apart! Oh Doctor, fuck my little pussy!” Derek managed to hide his astonishment and do just as she asked. He began to slide in and out using long, smooth strokes. Amanda could feel the head of his dick touching parts of her body she had only read about in textbooks: the slender teen was convinced he had penetrated her cervix and entered her uterus. She thumped her heels on his backside to pull him in deeper.
Faith and Tiffany watched in awe, Amanda’s superb body attracting them like a magnet. Faith took one of the gorgeous brunette’s amazing tits in both hands and bent to suck on the nipple. Tiffany quickly followed her lead. Amanda felt her climax building fast. “Oh yes,” she moaned. “Oh yes, oh yes . . . ”
Then, just as Amanda was about to cum, there was a kind of muffled howl from outside the room. At the same time came a loud thudding on the glass of the one-way mirror. Derek instinctively pulled out his cock. “No!” the hot teen cried. Amanda was so deep into her pleasure that the disturbance hadn’t reached her consciousness.
The others were stunned. None of the residents of the institution should have been up and around at that time of night. “Turn off the lights,” Dr. Scott ordered. Nurse Constance was already on the way. The lights were quickly doused, and framed in the window was the silhouette of a man–a very big man. “Holy shit!” said Faith. “It’s Kane!” Kane was the nickname of a resident of the institution, so called because of his resemblance to the pro wrestler. A huge man, seven feet tall and well over 300 pounds, but with an IQ about equal to Derek Scott’s shoe size.
“Nurse, you better let him in before he wakes up the whole place,” said Dr. Scott.
“Let him in? Are you crazy?”
“Look, he’s making so much noise we’ll have a crowd here in a minute. The poor fucker can’t tell anyone. He can’t even talk. He’s harmless.”
“Whatever you say Doctor,” she said acidly, opening the door. The big man was still pounding on the window and didn’t notice her at first. “Mr. Harvey, come here.” He looked at her stupidly. Nurse Constance took him firmly by the hand and led him inside.
He followed her meekly into the room. The huge man had one of the ugliest faces Amanda had ever seen, eyes that pointed different directions and a mouth full of rotten teeth. He wore a sleeveless ribbed white undershirt (commonly known as a wife-beater) and a pair of striped pajama bottoms. A true giant of a man, he dwarfed the six-foot-six doctor. His chest and arms were enormous but so was his belly.
Nurse Constance spoke to Mr. Harvey in soothing tones. He was really very shy and awkward. He tried to keep his eyes on the floor, but his eyes wouldn’t obey. It was clear that the big man was trying to check out Amanda, still naked on the exam table, but felt uncomfortable about it. Again that strange howling noise came from his throat. He was agitated, but Dr. Scott wasn’t sure why. He didn’t think the brute was mature enough to become aroused sexually; his mind was like that of a very young child’s. Perhaps he had had a bad dream and gone looking for someone to comfort him.
But then they noticed the bulge in his pajamas. Something hung down one thigh, something very long and thick. Could it be . . .? No. No dick could be that large. This thing, whatever it was, appeared to be about the size of a one-liter bottle–but curved. As everyone stared, Kane looked at Amanda and this time he didn’t turn away. He started howling again, faster and louder.
Nurse Constance was frightened. With his size and strength Kane could kill someone without even trying. “Do you want to have a better look?” she asked the brute. “Amanda’s really pretty, isn’t she?” As she led him closer to the exam table where the gorgeous teenager lay, the big man’s howls stopped.
Amanda was scared, but still incredibly horny. Kane’s outburst had come just as she was about to. Derek Scott was still standing between her legs, his cock still hard, but they were both too freaked out to continue. Nobody dared move. The monster brushed off the nurse’s hand and shuffled slowly to the exam table. Faith moved over to make room for him. Amanda’s eyes grew wide with fear, but he made no move to hurt her. Instead, he reached out and gently began to stroke her hair. He never took his eyes from the body of the slender teen.
For her part, Amanda couldn’t take her eyes from that startling bulge in the man’s pajamas. It was obvious now that the lump was indeed his penis. As he stood next to the table she could see the outline of his gargantuan tool through the thin fabric. Its proportions were almost inconceivable. Until that night the young impressionable teenager couldn’t have imagined a dick as big as Dr. Scott’s–he did have a very big dick–but this one made his look almost puny. And it wasn’t even hard yet! At least Amanda didn’t think so. It still hung down inside the man’s pajama leg.
“Fuck her!” the idiot howled. His speech was slurred but everyone knew what he said. Dr. Scott’s mouth fell open. He had no idea the man could speak.
“You–you want me to fuck her?” he asked, pointing to himself.
“Fuck her!” the big ape repeated. “Mmm, titties,” were the next words he was heard to utter after almost four years of silence.
Faith whispered in Amanda’s ear. “I think he wants to feel your tits! Maybe–”
But the big brute didn’t wait. He just reached out and began to softly squeeze those lovely white breasts. Breasts which, before today, had only been touched by Amanda herself. His hands were as soft as a girl’s and clammy, and so big they covered Amanda’s huge jugs.
As the big mental defective helped himself to those spectacular melons, he began to moan. And his dick began to grow.
“Fuck her!” he said again, louder.
“OK, OK,” said Dr. Scott. He eased his dick through the teen’s sweet pink folds and started working it slowly in and out once again. Amanda sighed with pleasure. Derek’s cock felt sooooo good inside her, and Kane for his size had a very gentle touch. His huge sweaty hands touched her breasts reverently.
Faith, ever the adventurous one, was drawn to the man’s enormous dick. She bent at the waist until her face was even with his crotch, and slowly reached out with her hand. The shameless coed gently wrapped her fingers around the gigantic shaft and began to stroke it. The thing responded immediately, getting harder and growing even longer.
The big lummox was still fondling Amanda’s tits and now he began to grunt as his cock grew uncomfortable. It was quickly becoming stiff but was trapped by the leg of his pajamas.
“Let me help you there big fella,” said Faith. She untied the string that held up his pajama bottoms and slid them down. Everyone in the room gasped as the giant’s cock sprang out. As he stood next to the exam table it reached almost to Amanda’s face. Faith couldn’t even begin to estimate its size. She took it in her small hand and found that she couldn’t come close to reaching around the thing. The fat blue veins bulged under her fingers and it curved distinctly to the left. Amanda thought it was repulsive but fascinating at the same time, and the fact that it was uncircumcised added to both perceptions.
Faith wrapped her other hand around the massive tool and began to pump it slowly. She peeled the foreskin back to reveal an enormous dark crimson head with a drop of pre-cum hanging from the tip. Faith bent down and teased the opening of the giant cock with her tongue. After licking up the drop of cum, she swirled her tongue around the fat head while still massaging the thing with both hands. It continued to grow. She opened her mouth as wide as possible and tried to stuff as much as she could in, but the head alone made her choke and gag.
When Faith lifted her mouth from the all-meat sub a long string of drool stretched from her tongue to its head. Faith smiled and bent to kiss Amanda’s perfect lips. Amanda returned the kiss, sucking Faith’s tongue into her mouth. “You want to try sucking his dick, don’t you?” Faith asked.
Amanda was getting methodically fucked by Dr. Scott and she could feel another orgasm building. She didn’t answer Faith’s question but her mouth was open and she couldn’t stop staring at the giant cock. As usual Faith took her silence for a yes and held the big dick to Amanda’s lips. The sexy eighteen-year-old stuck out her tongue and licked the bottom of the shaft as Faith drew it back and forth across her open mouth.
“Ooo, I get the top,” said Faith. She climbed onto the exam table and straddled Amanda’s waist, then lay face to face with the lovely teenager. Faith pressed her mouth to the top of the monstrous shaft while Amanda did the same from below. The giant simpleton groaned as he sawed his dick between the two girls’ mouths. After a minute or two of this treatment Faith raised her head and grabbed the dick in her hand. “See how much you can get in your mouth,” she said.
Amanda turned her head to the side and Faith guided the huge cock to the teen’s mouth. The foreskin had slid down over the head again and Amanda could sense the difference with her lips as it entered her wet orifice. Faith shoved as much as she could into Amanda’s mouth causing her cheeks to bulge out. She expected the young girl to gag as she had, but when she pulled the cockhead back Amanda’s lips clung to it lovingly. The girl seemed reluctant to let it go!
The head of the monstrous dick, still mostly covered with its foreskin, was shiny with Amanda’s spit. “Get it good and wet,” said Faith, and Amanda complied, licking hungrily at the dark head. “Yeah, that’s it, lick it. Stick your tongue right under the foreskin.” Again the teenager did as she was told, slipping her tongue between the head and the foreskin and working it all the way around. “Fuck, that’s hot,” said Faith. “Now open wide.”
Faith aimed the giant’s WMD into Amanda’s mouth. Its size was now truly prodigious. Amanda tilted her head back and the giant rammed forward with his hips. The young girl’s jaw was stretched uncomfortably wide as the massive invader entered her mouth. It was squeezed tightly by the muscles of Amanda’s throat as the head slipped into her gullet. Tears ran from her eyes as the teenager choked on the enormous fuckstick. She couldn’t breathe at all.
Just as the others thought they might have to act to save the girl, the giant pulled out his dick. Amanda took a huge gulp of air as her windpipe was vacated. Tears and spittle ran down her face. At that moment Tiffany, who was watching from the other side of the exam table, spoke. “I’ve got to try that motherfucker,” she said. She bent so that her face was next to Amanda’s and Faith’s, opposite the giant. Faith guided the fuck missile to her friend’s mouth.
Now three girls were feasting on the huge meatstick. The head moved in and out of Tiffany’s mouth, stretching it obscenely, while Faith and Amanda pressed their lips on the shaft from above and below. The giant grunted in appreciation. Nurse Constance was feeling left out, so she crouched between Derek’s legs to lick his balls while his cock speared the girl on the table.
“Jesus, this is unbelievable!” said the doctor. “I’m going to cum again. Amanda, baby, I want to cum inside you. Are you OK with that?”
“Mmmph, yeah . . . slurp . . . I want your hot cum inside me,” said that truly wonderful girl. Instantly Dr. Scott shot his second load of the evening, and it was almost as big as the first. His climax nearly sent Amanda over the edge but he stopped pumping just as she was about to cum herself. She moaned in desire and frustration.
“My turn,” said Nurse Constance, pushing Derek out of the way. The sexed-up nurse dived tongue first into the teen’s sloppy cunt, licking up the doctor’s copious seminal fluids as they seeped from the girl’s love tunnel. Amanda came hard as the naughty nurse circled the young beauty’s clit with the tip of her tongue. Faith knew that the girl was climaxing, and she reached back to shove the older woman’s face deeper into Amanda’s overflowing gash. The newly debauched teenager couldn’t even see who was eating her, but she knew it was good. She came again.
When Nurse Constance finally came up for air, the lower half of her face was covered in the doctor’s cum mixed with Amanda’s cunt sauce. Amanda herself had cum three times but she was still not satisfied. Tiffany’s jaw ached from stretching her mouth around the giant’s huge prick and she had to back off. “Do you think we can make him cum?” she wondered.
“Fuck yeah,” answered Faith. “Let him fuck the little hottie here.”
“Are you insane?” said Tiffany. “He’ll split her apart.”
Faith climbed down from the exam table and led the giant by his cock to the other end. “I think she can handle it. What do you think Nurse?”
The experienced O.R nurse slipped four fingers inside the girl’s wide-open slit. “She’s been stretched quite a bit already. And you know the female body is made for bearing children. She can handle it. It may be uncomfortable, but she can take it. Amanda honey, what do you think? Do you want to try it?”
Amanda was in a state of arousal so intense that no cock would have seemed too big. She was on a kind of sexual high, the only thing that mattered right then was quelling the flames of desire that burned in her. She wasn’t sure she would ever recover from the condition she was in, but then, she didn’t want to. “Give me that fucking dick,” she said.
Though the big man’s monster penis was already slick with the saliva of three girls, Nurse Constance hadn’t yet had a go at it. She began to lick it and tried sticking the head in her mouth. “Holy fuck! That is one huge dick,” she said.
She pulled the man close to his target. He was so tall that as the wanton teenager lay on the exam table his hips were a good two feet higher that hers.
“Amanda honey, turn over and get up on your knees,” said the nurse. Amanda complied and raised her butt in the air, her head turned to one side and flat on the table, her perfect breasts squashed beneath her. This raised her body almost into position. Faith used the electronic control to raise the table until the giant’s pole was lined up with the girl’s dripping cunt.
Nurse Constance pointed the tip of the massive weapon at the beautiful girl’s slippery passage. When the head was beginning to spread apart those shining pink lips she stopped the big Neanderthal. “Wait Mr. Harvey,” she said. “You don’t want to hurt her, do you?” He looked concerned–at least as concerned as a gorilla can look. “Let her come to you. Amanda sweetie, back up onto his dick a little at a time.”
And she did. The exquisite brunette teen, so recently innocent, was oblivious to the fact that she was being watched by four people she had only known a few days as she worked her pussy forward and back on the massive cock. She eased him in an inch or so at a time, then backed off. The doctor’s cum lubricating her vagina was forced out and ran down her thighs. “Oh God,” she moaned. “Oh fuck.” She continued to work more and more into her slick opening until the thing was nearly half buried in her. She was on the verge of another orgasm.
But there it seemed to stick. Try as she might, she could get no more of the huge cock inside her. The lovely teenager turned her head a bit more and looked up at the man’s ugly face towering over her. “Mister,” she said. “I need you to help me.”
“Huh?” said the giant.
“Put your hands on my hips and push your dick inside me.” The others were transfixed by what they saw and heard–it was too much to believe. They were aroused all over again.
“I need to cum,” said Nurse Constance. “Tiffany, get over here. Lie down on the couch.” Tiffany obeyed, lying back on the smooth leather. The older nurse knelt on either side of blonde’s head, lowering her dank folds to the sweet coed’s mouth.
At the exam table the brute had wrapped his huge hands around Amanda’s slim waist and managed to force about two thirds of his humongous fuckstick into her sweet smooth pussy. Amanda came, then came again, harder. His cock had bottomed out and could go no further, but the giant was rhythmically slamming it in as far as it would go. Kane’s monstrous member felt like it was splitting her in two while at the same time filling her in the most intensely pleasurable way. Her orgasms became almost continuous.
Dr. Scott was hard again and he wanted more. Stroking his long black cock he stood in front of Amanda’s face. Her eyes were closed and her mouth open. Using both hands the former basketball star straightened the girl’s head so that her chin was resting on the edge of the padded table. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “Yes,” she said just before he shoved his dick in her mouth.
The good doctor couldn’t believe his luck. Here was a white girl who looked as beautiful as any model on the cover of a fashion magazine but with bigger tits. She was being fucked by a mentally defective giant who had a cock the size of the Graf Zeppelin. He doubted he would ever have this chance again, so he held her by the ears and slowly forced his ebony cock down her throat. Her green eyes were open wide and looking up at him. She couldn’t say anything, of course, with her mouth and throat full of dick, but her eyes were very expressive. He wasn’t sure if they were expressing thanks, or shock and dismay at this sudden violation of her tonsils. A tear formed in one eye and rolled down her smooth cheek–but that was just a reflex, he figured.
Amanda had reached a state that for most people only lasts for a few seconds, but this orgasm seemed to go on and on. She had no past, no future, no family, nothing. The only things that mattered were the two big dicks inside her. Dr. Scott was timing his thrusts so that when Kane’s dick was mostly withdrawn from her body his was lodged deep in her throat, and when the giant’s dick was as far in her as it would go Derek pulled out so that only the head of his cock was in her mouth. Drool ran from the girl’s lips and dripped from the edge of the exam table. Her thighs were covered in fuck juices.
Nurse Constance, watching intently, came on Tiffany’s mouth, her thirtysomething snatch covering the blonde’s face with its musky deposit.
Faith stood close to the table and watched the mammoth dick sliding in and out of the ravaged teenager. She reached between the giant’s legs and hefted his nuts. “Jesus, they’re the size of tennis balls,” she said. With her other hand she stroked the base of the mighty shaft. The big man was groaning nonstop. “Shit, he’s going to cum, I think. Mr. Harvey, where do you want to cum? In her pussy? On her pretty face?”
“Amanda, he wants to cum on your tits. Turn over on your back,” Faith ordered. But the giant didn’t wait. He pulled his cock from the girl’s dripping hole and moved quickly to her side. Dr. Scott got his dick out of the way just in time. Kane flipped Amanda roughly onto her back. Faith seized the giant’s fearsome appendage with both hands and pointed it towards the girl’s lovely breasts. She only had to wank it a few times before the big man came with a roar.
It was as if Faith were pointing a fire hose. The giant’s inhuman cock produced one phenomenal shot of cum after another–more in number and volume that seemed possible. The first blast overshot Amanda’s breasts entirely and hit the side of her face, leaving a trail as it receded over her neck and shoulder. Faith adjusted her aim and the next several ropes fell in lines across every part of the teen’s fantastic breasts and completely covered her puffy pink nipples.
Amanda raised her head to watch as her tits were splattered with cum. She was still on the edge of the plateau of ecstasy and she wanted to stay there. The girl who had to be convinced to touch herself earlier now slipped four fingers inside her cunt to try to fill the void left behind by the giant’s departed dick.
This was too much for Derek. He felt himself about to cum for the third time that night. He was pumping his own cock and gazing at the teenager’s lovely cum-streaked face. “Amanda, look at me,” he said. The busty brunette turned up her wide green eyes, looking at him past the big black dick just over her forehead. “Oh fuck,” he said. His cum oozed rather than shot onto Amanda’s cheeks and into her open mouth.
“Mmm, give me your cock,” she said, and Dr. Scott did just that, sticking the head of his black tool in her mouth to be cleaned. “God I love the taste of cum,” she said between slurps, more to herself than to anyone in particular. Dr. Scott soon withdrew his cock, which by this time was almost painfully sore. Amanda licked her lips to get the rest of the thick white goo from them.
“I’ll help you,” said Faith. Holding the giant’s mighty scimitar, which was still oozing cum, she used it to scoop the stuff from Amanda’s shining cheeks and push it into her mouth. When she had cleaned up the lovely teen’s face as much as she could in this way, Amanda licked and sucked on the tip of the giant cock to find more. Faith pulled it away and playfully swatted the girl’s face with the massive dong; its impact made slapping sounds that could be heard by everyone in the room.
“I want more cum,” Amanda said, her voice trance-like. She seemed to hardly notice the others in the room with her.
“You want more, baby?” said Faith, ever the mischievous imp. “Look at your tits.”
Amanda said not a word, but cupped her huge wonderful jugs in each hand and, raising first one and then the other to her mouth, and proceeded to lick the thick rivers of splooge from those perfect pink-tipped melons.
“Jesus,” said Nurse Constance. “I think she’s gone insane.”
Dr. Scott didn’t agree. He thought the girl was in a kind of sexual stupor that would soon fade. But the words of his lover had given him an idea. What if the gorgeous teenager were declared insane? He knew of some pharmaceuticals that would mimic the symptoms of schizophrenia. What if Amanda were confined there at the institution for treatment? She would be at his disposal as often as he wanted her. It was an idea he would need to consider very carefully.
Meanwhile Amanda just lay on the table and licked cum from her nipples. “I love my boobies,” she said.
Perhaps to be continued?
NOTE: It is highly recommended that you read Part One first. If you don’t, this part will not make much sense.
“Holy shit!” said Faith, struggling to catch the slumping teenager.
“Jesus!” said Tiffany. “Do you think she liked it?” Giggling, they wrapped the girl’s arms around their shoulders and half carried, half dragged her inside. “Where should we put her?” Tiffany asked.
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Faith had a brainstorm. “Oh, my God!” she said.
Tiffany was just a second behind. “Oh, my God!” she echoed.
Without another word they took the unconscious teen to the soundproof room and laid her out on the exam table. In the dim light from the one way mirror they looked at their victim. Amanda was groaning softly, just starting to come around.
“She needs to get more comfortable, don’t you think Tiff?”
“Help me sit her up. Let’s get these things off.” The two sophomores quickly removed Amanda’s starched white nurse’s uniform, then laid her back in only her modest white bra and cotton bikini panties. The girl was starting to mumble incoherently.
“Does she look fine, or what?” said Tiffany.
“Fuck yeah. C’mon, let’s get her strapped down before she comes to.”
“Whatever! Tell me you weren’t thinking about it too,” Faith retorted as she pulled the straps tight on the sexy teen’s wrists. Tiffany did her ankles and another strap just above the knee, while Faith added one more around the girl’s ribs right below her breasts.
“Time to call the doctor!” Faith announced. She punched in a number on the intercom.
“Dr. Scott, we’ve got a surprise for you in the crisis management room. I think you’re going to like it.”
“Cool. Are you girls thirsty?”
“Right. We’ll be there in two minutes.”
Faith and Tiffany smoked a cigarette while they waited for the doctor. He entered a few minutes later carrying a twelve-pack of Corona. With him was Nurse Constance. “Well girls, it looks like you’ve done a good night’s work,” said the Director of Nursing.
“Mmm, mmm!” said the doctor. “We need to have a better look. All the loonies are down for the night so I think it’s safe to turn these on.” He flipped a switch activating the bright exam lights directly over the table where Amanda lay.
“Hey! What’s going on?” she wondered aloud as the light hit her eyes. “Where am I?”
“Sweet Jesus in heaven!” said Derek Scott, sucking in his breath. He was walking slowly around the exam table checking out the helpless teenager from every angle. “She’s perfect.”
“Yes she is,” agreed Nurse Constance, looking at Amanda’s legs, her stomach, shoulders, face, even her feet, but especially her massive tits. “Can those be real?”
Before anyone could answer, Amanda said again, “Hey! What happened to me? What am I doing here?”
“Don’t you remember, baby?” asked Faith. We had a wild time outside and you sort of blacked out.”
The memory came flooding back causing her cheeks to burn with shame. “Damn you!” she yelled at Faith. “You raped me! Dr. Scott, they raped me!”
“Yeah, right,” Faith sneered. “You came so hard you passed out. I don’t think it’s rape when you want it that bad.”
“They tricked me! Dr. Scott, you have to believe me! They gave me drugs and they–” Her voice faded to a harsh rasp before she could finish. “Water,” she croaked. She tried to sit but found it was impossible. Her face registered shock and confusion. “What–!” Dr. Scott took over. In his best bedside manner he began, “Look kid, you’re restrained for your own protection. The girls knew you were pretty wasted and they didn’t want you to fall and hurt yourself. As far as their giving you drugs–are you shitting me? I was there, remember? Nobody forced you to do anything.” He sat next to her on the edge of the table. “Now drink this,” he said, holding up a bottle of Corona. When the frightened schoolgirl started to protest he shushed her, then helped to raise her head. “Drink,” he repeated.
Kid! she thought again. I’ll show you I’m no kid. She took a long swallow, then another, and the cold beer felt good going down. But Dr. Scott kept the bottle to her lips until beer spilled down her chin and neck and onto her breasts.
“Doctor–” she choked, but he raised the bottle to her mouth again and she drank. This time he stopped when her eyes told him she could take no more. She took a deep breath and he continued until the bottle was empty.
“That’s better, isn’t it?” he said.
Amanda nodded. She really did feel more relaxed, a little giddy even. The three women had been watching with interest and downing beers of their own. Nurse Constance came forward and began stroking Amanda’s leg just above the knee. “Look at her skin, Derek. It’s flawless. Not a zit or a mole or even a birthmark anywhere. It’s incredible.” The compliment made Amanda flush pink.
The older woman began to run her hands up and down the teen’s long smooth legs. “I think we need to see the rest, don’t you?” she asked.
“Oh yeah,” said the doctor. “Let’s put her feet in the stirrups.” He raised a pair of gynecological stirrups from where they had been folded under the table. Before the helpless brunette could freak out, Tiffany began to whisper reassuringly in her ear. She kissed the teenager’s cheek and stroked her hair. While Amanda was thus distracted Dr. Scott and Nurse Constance strapped her legs securely in the stirrups and lowered a large section of the exam table so that the pair could stand directly between the patient’s open legs.
And there they stood, admiring the view. As Tiffany began to kiss Amanda on the lips, the older nurse caressed her silky thighs. Dr. Scott turned a crank under the table that caused the stirrups to move apart, spreading Amanda’s legs wider and wider. It happened so slowly that the gorgeous teen hardly noticed until her legs were very far apart indeed.
Tiffany and Amanda shared a deep French kiss while Nurse Constance felt the soft flesh of the teenager’s inner thighs, occasionally letting her hands stray over the girl’s cotton-covered mound. Amanda’s body began to respond, though the tipsy brunette wasn’t fully aware of it. The juices flowed in her cunt and her hips began to undulate very slowly.
“I’ve gotta see that pussy,” said the doctor. He handed Nurse Constance a pair of long-handled, blunt-tipped scissors, the kind used to safely remove bandages. The skillful nurse used these to snip Amanda’s panties through on each side, then she pulled them from under the girl’s perfect butt.
Amanda felt the cool air on her most private part and gasped. She broke her kiss with Tiffany and cried out, “Nurse Constance! What are you doing?” She felt her face redden in shame, but the older pair ignored her distress.
“Very pretty,” said Nurse Constance. The teenager had a fairly thick patch of dark brown pubic hair trimmed only at the sides. Her outer lips were puffed up with arousal and her inner lips were just visible. “But I think we need a better look, don’t you doctor?”
Faith, who was getting hornier by the second, was already in motion. She got a razor, shaving cream and a towel from a cabinet, and also a bowl of warm water. “No!” Amanda cried. “Please don’t do this!” She began to cry with humiliation. Never in her short life had she felt so helpless or ashamed, nor had she felt so completely exposed. “Please,” she sobbed. “Don’t…”
“Nurse Constance,” said the doctor. “It’s time to prep our young patient.” And to Amanda, “I suggest you don’t move while you’re being prepped. And you can stop that blubbering.” Amanda didn’t move but the tears rolled down her cheeks just the same. Nurse Constance used scissors to trim the hair short and began shaving. As a former O.R. nurse she was very adept, and soon the young girl’s pussy and asshole were as smooth as the day she was born.
All traces of shaving cream were washed away and lotion applied to soothe the delicate skin. “Now that’s fuckin’ beautiful!” said Faith. The four of them stood and admired the lovely teenager. Now Amanda was really and truly exposed: with no hair, every fold of her pink pussy could be seen. Like the rest of her, it was perfect.
“Mmm, that looks tasty,” said the Director of Nursing.
“What!” Amanda yelped. “You can’t! That’s so nasty!” The tears came faster, but there was absolutely nothing she could do.
“Can’t you raise this thing, Derek?” the nurse asked.
“Sure,” he said and pressed a button at the side of the table. It slowly inclined so that Amanda’s hips and legs rose in the air. She was soon tilted up with her crotch at a convenient height, her head still at waist level. Amanda sobbed pitifully. “Please don’t,” she begged. “Pleeeez!”
There are great artists whose talents lie with paint and brush, others with the violin, camera, or pen. Nurse Constance was a master in the art of pussy eating, and she set about her canvas with the utmost refinement. She began by kissing her way from Amanda’s left knee to the hollow at the very top of her thigh. This move was repeated on the other leg, then she dragged the tip of her tongue in a wavy line up one thigh and down the other. All the while the despairing teenager pleaded with her to stop.
But when the older woman began to gently kiss the outer lips of the young girl’s cunt, Amanda gasped as a shiver went through her body. “No,” she said aloud, “Don’t,” but she knew she was lost. Nurse Constance ran her tongue lightly along the slick pink folds, avoiding the most sensitive area around the teenager’s clit. No one had ever eaten Amanda’s pussy before, and even as her mind screamed ‘NO!’ her body responded. As she felt the need for release begin to build again, she lay as still as possible to hide her pleasure.
Amanda had a small, dainty cunt that hid its inner delights most of the time. But under the nurse’s talented tongue it opened like a flower, the bubblegum-pink inner lips slowly unfolding. The other three watched in awe as Nurse Constance gently sucked Amanda’s pussy lips into her mouth. She nibbled, she licked, but still she didn’t touch the girl’s clit. Shame reddened the teenager’s cheeks and filled her eyes with tears, but she couldn’t stop her soft moaning, or the slow rolling of her hips.
Earlier, when Amanda had allowed the two college girls to break down her resistance, she had felt humiliated. This was much worse. Now she was being watched by a handsome, crushworthy doctor while an older woman actually licked her gooey snatch. She would never be able to look at herself again.
Dr. Scott chose this moment to step forward. The brunette teen was so lovely, so sexy, and so helpless he couldn’t wait any longer to sample her. “How does she taste?” he asked. As he stood at the side of the table near Amanda’s head, the former basketball star leaned over so that his face was just above the gorgeous teen’s pussy. He could see her pink clit peeking out.
Nurse Constance lifted her head. “Like candy,” she answered. Her mouth and chin were wet with the girl’s cunt sauce, and she kissed the big Negro so that he could taste the juices on her lips. They kissed deeply for a minute, then Dr. Scott began to lick Amanda’s pussy very near her clit. Nurse Constance probed the girl’s fuckhole with her tongue.
Amanda was in heaven. It pained her deeply to give in to her lust–she couldn’t imagine anything more filthy than having her pussy licked by an older woman and a black man at the same time–but she could hold back no longer. Her mouth opened and her moans became more rhythmic. She raised her hips slightly to press more of the nurse’s tongue into her wet slot.
The doctor and nurse looked into each other’s eyes and each knew what the other had in mind. With the sides of their faces squeezed together, she worked on one side of the girl’s tasty cooze while he sucked on the other. When they met in the center, the experienced nurse was the first to lick the sexy teen’s clit.
“Oh!” Amanda cried, “Oh God! Right there! Yes!” her climax building fast.
“Let me,” said the doctor, and Nurse Constance moved aside. He gently sucked the girl’s clit into his mouth and released it, over and over, while the Director of Nursing tongue-fucked the brunette hottie’s tight hole. That did it. With a scream the gorgeous teen achieved the third orgasm of her life.
The pair of medical professionals kept up their oral teamwork as the shuddering teenager reached another and then another huge orgasm. Finally she had to beg them to stop. Amanda’s skin was damp with sweat and her muscles were as limp as overcooked pasta. She lay with her eyes half closed as the others feasted their gaze on her delectable body. They were amazed that the young, mostly innocent teenager had such a capacity for pleasure.
“I need your cock,” said Nurse Constance, rubbing Derek’s sizable instrument.
“And I need to finally have a look at those tits,” said Faith picking up the scissors. She began by cutting the shoulder straps of the girl’s bra. Amanda, basking in the afterglow of her pleasure, hardly noticed. But when Faith cut through the center of her staid white bra she realized what was about to happen. Even though she had just experienced the most intense sexual enjoyment of her life in front of three virtual strangers, she was still uncomfortably aware of her breasts. They were just so big!
“Please don’t,” she begged, her eyes filling with tears again.
Faith decided to play up the drama of the situation. “Hmmm,” she wondered aloud. “Are they real? What color do you think the nipples are?” The tits in question were barely covered by the bra’s cups, now split down the middle.
“No, don’t,” Amanda pleaded. “Don’t look at me, please…” she broke off sobbing. Faith bent down to whisper in her ear.
“It’s OK baby,” she said. “You’re beautiful and sexy. I love your big boobs and I can’t wait to touch them. We all want to see what they look like. I’m sure they’re great. Don’t be embarrassed.” With that she slipped her hands under the loose cups and began to feel the shapely tits. The remains of her bra fell to Amanda’s sides leaving the huge breasts covered only by Faith’s small hands. And those massive globes made Faith’s hands look very small indeed.
“They’re real, alright,” she said with a grin. She squeezed, caressed and wobbled the big melons in her hands, and all the while Amanda cringed with humiliation. “Let’s see what kind of nipples she has,” Faith went on. She moved her hands to the sides a little and pushed the huge tits together. A collective gasp rose from the group as the teen’s pale pink nips came into view.
“Holy fucking shit!” said Tiffany. Dr. Scott could only murmur his agreement as he stared with open lust. Nurse Constance had his dick out of his pants and was stroking it lightly. Faith began to gently pinch and squeeze the puffy pink nerps of the helpless teenager–exactly what she had been dreading. The sensation, as usual, went straight to her pussy.
Amanda turned her head to one side to avoid watching her tits being mauled by Faith’s slender hands. And what did she see? Nurse Constance sucking on the biggest, blackest dick she could ever have imagined. Dr. Scott’s fuckstick was not quite fully erect but it was already much bigger than any dick she had ever seen or even dreamed about.
The Director of Nursing was bent over at the waist and sucking the fat, purple head. The former basketball star’s cock was very thick and bulging with veins. The huge instrument was just at Amanda’s eye level and only a few feet away, and she could hear slurping as the hot nurse coated the enormous tool with her spit. The teen was mesmerized.
Nurse Constance looked up and caught Amanda’s stare. She recognized the look in the girl’s eyes for what it was–longing. The teenager’s lips were parted and she had forgotten her humiliation for the moment, even though Faith was still playing with her tits. With her eyes locked on the girl’s, the sexy nurse twirled her tongue around the heavy balls and then all the way up the underside of the shaft.
She plunged the head into her mouth again, her wide brown eyes still holding Amanda’s sultry green ones. Without breaking her gaze, Nurse Constance led Dr. Scott by his dick over to the exam table. The doctor now stood at one side of the teen’s head while Faith stood at the other, pinching the girl’s nipples. The Director of Nursing stood next to Dr. Scott holding his dick just inches from the young girl’s face.
The ebony shaft was slick with the nurse’s saliva, her hand sliding up and down. Amanda could not take her eyes from it. So long, so thick, and as black as coal…something inside her craved that enormous tool. “You want to try it, don’t you?” said the nurse.
“No,” Amanda whispered, but none of them was convinced.
“Lick it,” Nurse Constance ordered, pulling the big cock right up to the young girl’s mouth. Amanda shook her head no, but when the head of that big dick brushed her lips, the tip of her tongue seemed to snake from her mouth of its own volition. She licked it hesitantly. The almost innocent teen had never had a cock in her mouth before, but Dr. Scott’s sigh of pleasure encouraged her. He reacted not so much from the sensation–her tongue barely touched him–but from the visual stimulation.
Looking straight down he saw his long black cock held in the small white hand of his lover, Nurse Constance. The attractive thirtysomething woman directed his meatstick to the mouth of the cover-model beautiful brunette teenager strapped helplessly to the exam table. Her curious tongue stretched out to lap his cock like an ice cream cone. What he couldn’t see–what none of them saw–was the face at the one-way mirror.
It was Friday night and chestnut haired Amanda lay back on her bed and teased her pink nipples. Her sensitive breasts sent a wave of desire down the center of her body–a direct line, as it were, from nipple to clitoris. Her cotton panties were already starting to moisten. She looked at herself in the mirror opposite her bed and wondered, “Why can’t I be like other girls?”
But Amanda was a typical teenager in most ways, still maturing physically and emotionally. She was of medium height, with arms and legs slender and toned from years of tennis and dance lessons. She had a flat stomach, narrow waist and the sweetest little round butt. Her skin was quite fair, almost pale, and without the least blemish of any kind–a complexion still in the full bloom of youth. Green eyes in a gorgeous, cover model face completed the package.
Of course, Amanda was not the only pretty girl at her high school. But if you’d asked the boys they would have told you that what made Amanda different from the other girls was a certain indefinable quality, it was simply…perfection. If Helen had a face that launched a thousand ships, Amanda Peterson was the girl that produced a thousand wet dreams.
And if you’d asked those same horny teenaged boys what made Amanda so enticing, they would have agreed that on top of all her other assets, her lovely face, her abundant long dark hair, her great ass and legs, there was one feature that nobody could match: her spectacular tits. Although she tried to hide them with loose fitting tops and baggy sweaters, Amanda had breasts that could not be concealed. There was plenty of speculation about her bra size, but it was only speculation. None of the boys at school had come close to laying a hand on those beauties. And everyone, even her own mother, was amazed that those huge jugs were supported with grace and apparent ease on such a slender frame.
They hadn’t begun to grow until quite late in her adolescence, but she quickly became the envy of every girl in school–and the lust object of every boy. Now at age eighteen, though still not fully developed, they were even bigger. In spite of their size and heft, the pull of gravity was almost imperceptible. The nipples and aureoles were a pale pink no darker than the color of her skin, and both stuck out slightly from the exquisite line of her breasts. A girl in Amanda’s gym class called them ‘puffy nipples.’ Amanda just thought they looked weird.
Now, as she pinched those pink puffies hard and felt the juices run in her snatch, Amanda continued to look at her reflection. There was a small furrow between her eyebrows as she pondered her misfortune. “I’m such a freak,” she thought. “Why did I get stuck with these huge boobs?” She was so ashamed of her jugs that she rarely dated and never went to school dances for fear her dance partner might brush against them accidentally.
She tried to think about other things. Earlier that day Amanda and the other seniors at her high school were told they would be required to do a service learning project. It meant doing volunteer work in the community, and would involve many hours beyond the regular school day. When the project was announced she didn’t groan and complain like the other students. Amanda had always felt the need to be helpful, and service learning seemed like just another extension of that impulse. She also thought of the project as an early step on the path to her career goal, becoming a registered nurse.
Her thoughts soon returned to her breasts, though. In the gym locker room that day she was extremely self-conscious about her huge titties, as usual. Amanda never felt comfortable being naked with the girls. For reasons she didn’t at all understand, exposing herself in the locker room made her nipples stiffen. When this happened she was careful to hide her hard nips. “My, it’s cold in here!” she was ready to explain to anyone who noticed. It was just one more thing that made Amanda believe she was a freak.
In the showers she had turned just as a cute blonde cheerleader bent over to pick up her shower gel, and Amanda felt a kind of jolt as she caught a glimpse of the girl’s pink pussy lips. She didn’t know why. Amanda never considered for a moment that she might be sexually attracted to other girls–that was disgusting. Only nasty dyke girls felt like that, and she was certainly not one of them!
That night alone in her bedroom, Amanda looked away from her image in the mirror and glanced around the room. It was a little girl’s room in many ways. The furniture was chosen by her parents years ago. Her bed was a four poster, with frilly ruffles at the canopy and pillows, and there were stuffed animals scattered around. Her gaze returned to her reflection in the mirror. “What am I doing?” she asked herself. “How weird am I?” She was twisting both her nipples and there was now a dark wet spot on the gusset of her panties.
“Oh, fuck it,” she sighed, feeling a little naughty. Amanda reached down with one hand and caressed the lips of her sex through her moist knickers. She had never had an orgasm, at least she didn’t think so, but touching herself this way felt awfully good. After a few minutes she slipped her hand inside her panties and trailed a finger up her wet slit. Finding her clit she tickled it gently with the tip of her forefinger. With the other hand she squeezed her massive tits together, trying to pull on both nipples at once.
Focusing on a large poster of Justin Timberlake, Amanda rubbed her finger faster and faster over her engorged clit. She shivered with pleasure, but the release never came. Sometime later the lovely Amanda drifted off to sleep with her hand between her thighs, still feeling unsatisfied. Exactly what she was missing though, she couldn’t have explained if she tried.
* * *
On Saturday, Amanda set out to begin her school project. Within walking distance from her house was a residential institution for the mentally disturbed and handicapped. She reasoned that a place like that would probably need extra help, and the experience would look great on her college applications. She was a little apprehensive about working with mentally impaired people–what if she were attacked by some psycho?–but she told herself she was being a chicken and hurried on.
The building was a modern one story brick affair that rambled over a neatly trimmed lawn. From the outside it was impossible to tell that lunatics resided there, but it was well known in the neighborhood. Amanda took a deep breath and went inside. After a brief interview in Human Resources she was taken to meet the director of nursing, Nurse Constance.
Amanda thought Nurse Constance was pretty young to be director of nursing. She appeared to be only in her mid to late twenties. In fact she was 34, but she was very fit, and her stylish clothes, smooth skin and short hair made her look much younger. Nurse Constance looked Amanda up and down, openly appraising her, and smiled. “Yes, of course we can use some help,” she said. “There are two student interns I’d like you to meet.”
They found Tiffany and Faith in the employee lounge smoking cigarettes. The two girls were both sophomore nursing students at a nearby university and the internship was a requirement for their program. “Hey Nurse Constance,” Tiffany drawled, as a slow smile spread across her face. “Who ya got there?” Faith blew out a cloud of smoke and introduced herself. Then Tiffany offered a hand which Amanda shook after waving away a cloud of smoke.
The coeds were both twenty years old and pretty, but there the similarity ended. Tiffany had long dirty-blonde hair, a suntan, and an appealing all-American sort of face. Her body was curvy and voluptuous, with a hint of baby fat. Faith was her opposite physically. She had a petite slender frame, very pale skin, and her hair was jet black and shoulder length. She was more punk princess than girl next door.
The girls looked sexier in their nursing uniforms than seemed quite right, and Amanda realized that their skirts were shortened to show a good bit of leg, and their tops were unbuttoned far enough to see some cleavage.
Amanda was feeling downright old-fashioned in one of her mother’s business suits that had been altered to fit and a pair of sensible low heeled pumps. She was surprised by the appearance of the two interns. Nurse Constance seemed to read her mind. “Don’t worry if these two appear a little unconventional,” she said. “They actually do some excellent work for me.” The two college students traded a look with Nurse Constance and smirked.
Nurse Constance went on, addressing her interns, “It wouldn’t be a bad idea if you two at least tried to look and behave like nursing students. You know smoking is not permitted in the building.”
“Aw, chill out Nurse Ratched,” said Faith. “You know we do our jobs.”
“Yes, you’re both very, uh, reliable. Come with me, Amanda. Let’s go take care of the paperwork and you can start after school on Monday.” The girls exchanged another significant look with Nurse Constance. Amanda thought that something was not kosher, but couldn’t imagine what it might be.
* * *
On Monday Amanda got a tour of the facility, and her fears of homicidal maniacs were quickly put to rest. The patients housed in the building seemed docile, even child-like as they were led through various therapies. Amanda did have a momentary fright when she met one of the residents. He was astonishingly huge, the biggest human being Amanda had ever seen. “He must be seven feet tall,” she thought. He was also incredibly ugly with a look of pure, imbecile stupidity on his face. But his shy manner was not in the least threatening and Nurse Constance led him by the hand like a little boy to the cafeteria.
After seeing to the patients’ dinner, Nurse Constance took Amanda to the staff table where Faith and Tiffany sat with a handsome African American in a white lab coat. “Amanda, this is Dr. Scott. Dr. Scott, our new volunteer, Amanda Peterson.” They shook hands, she a little nervously. Amanda had recognized him immediately as the NBA star who’d retired from basketball some years earlier. He was justly famous for attending medical school during the off season and doing his residency shortly after the end of his basketball career.
At age forty or so, Derek Scott was still a very athletic specimen. About six foot six and 240 pounds, he looked like he could still hold his own on the court with just about anyone. The impressionable young teenager took in the white shirt and silk tie showing under of his lab coat, the dark wool trousers and the shiny black size-sixteen wing tips. What she didn’t know was that he had been forced to resign his position at a prominent East Coast hospital because of ‘certain improprieties.’
“It’s very nice to meet you,” she stammered, blushing. Amanda realized that she had just looked him over from head to toe. He only grinned and shook her hand politely. Her hand almost disappeared in his enormous paw and the young schoolgirl felt herself blushing again.
“Hey Derek, I think she likes you,” said Faith, snickering. Tiffany and Nurse Constance also laughed as if this were a terribly witty remark, and Amanda felt even more uncomfortable.
“Don’t let them bother you,” Dr. Scott spoke up. “They’re just picking on you because you’re the new kid.” He scowled at the three women. “Be nice, now,” and addressing himself to Nurse Constance, “See you at ten?” He then excused himself to go back to work. Kid? Amanda thought.
The rest of the shift passed quickly as the two interns taught Amanda the ropes. When it was almost time for Amanda to go home, Faith and Tiffany led her to the employee lounge. Just before reaching it they walked by a long narrow horizontal window set into the wall at eye level.
“What’s in there?” asked Amanda.
“Oh, you’ve got to see this,” said Tiffany punching in a number on the keypad by the door. Inside was a soundproof room with a sturdy exam table in the center. At the table’s sides were heavy leather straps clearly designed to hold down a person’s arms and legs, and underneath were several levers and cranks and motors for raising and lowering different sections. A row of cabinets with a sink lined one wall, while a leather sofa and chairs was arranged along another.
“What’s it for?”
“This is where they bring the nut jobs if they flip out and try to murder each other,” Faith said.
“Oh my God!” Amanda cried. “Does that happen often?”
“She’s just trying to scare you,” said Tiffany. “They use this room when somebody needs to be restrained. It doesn’t happen a lot.”
“Oh, OK,” said Amanda. “But why do they have the nice furniture in here?”
“Somebody on staff has to sit in here whenever a client is restrained. It can be all night sometimes.”
“Yeah, and it’s a great party room!” said Faith. “Get the lights, would ya, Tiff?”
“The thing is,” explained Tiffany, “that window is a one-way mirror. We can’t see out, but when the lights are off nobody can see in here, either.”
“So we come in here to get high. We can play music and nobody can hear a thing through these walls.” With that the interns led Amanda to the couch and seated her between them. Just enough light came through the window to see each other’s faces. Faith switched on a radio tuned to the local hip hop station. Tiffany pulled a joint from her cigarette pack and lit up.
“Are you crazy?” said Amanda. “What if Nurse Constance catches you?”
“Relax. Nurse Constance is cool, even if she acts like a bitch.”
Tiffany passed the joint to Amanda, who refused it. Tiffany sighed and handed it to Faith. “Don’t you like to smoke weed?” Tiffany asked as Faith filled her lungs with the sweet smelling smoke.
“I—I’ve only done it a few times, and it made me feel so weird,” the brunette teen answered.
As it happened, the one and only time Amanda had been fucked was the result of a combination of beer and marijuana having broken down her inhibitions. Her ravisher, an older guy she had met at the beach, had been clever enough to leave her tits alone, knowing somehow that she was self conscious about them. The sex was brief and not very memorable, but it had left Amanda deflowered and hesitant to smoke reefer again.
“Yeah, no shit,” giggled Tiffany. Isn’t that the idea?” The coeds passed the joint several times as Amanda continued to just say no.
“It makes me horny,” said Faith a few minutes later when the joint was just a smoldering roach.
“Oh yeah!” agreed Tiffany. “I could use a big fat dick right about now!”
“What about you, Mandy?” asked Faith. “Do you like dick?”
“What, me? Um, I don’t know…” she trailed off weakly.
“You don’t know? Maybe you like girls, then?”
“Ugh! That’s gross! I would never—”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, right Tiff?”
“Right, babe. In fact, I like what I see here in front of me.”
“You got that shit right. Shall we?” With that, each of the stoned coeds took one of Amanda’s hands.
“Shh, don’t be scared.” The horny interns leaned in from each side and began to nuzzle the sides of her face and neck.
“Stop that…” she said, but they ignored her as Tiffany nibbled gently at her throat while Faith breathed hotly in her ear. Amanda felt a buzz of desire. This is crazy, she thought. Now Tiffany was kissing the side of her neck while Faith ran her lips across the girl’s ear, her neck, the side of her face. “Oh,” she gasped. Her mouth was suddenly very dry and her breath came in short rasps.
But when Faith placed a hand on her breast, the spell was broken. Amanda was way too hung up about her breasts to be okay with this, and she jumped up and practically ran to the door. It was locked. “Let me out!” she said angrily.
“Aw, don’t be that way,” said Faith. “We’re just having a little fun. If you relax you might like it.”
“No way! I’m not letting you touch me! Now let me out or I’ll scream!”
“You can scream all you want, nobody can hear you,” Tiffany said. “But we don’t want to give you a hard time. Let her out, Faith.”
“Alright, alright. Just give me a little kiss and I’ll let you out.”
“I’m not kissing you, you pervert!”
“Look kid, I know the combination and you don’t, so if you want to go you’ll have to give it up. Just a little peck.”
“Just a little peck?”
“Yeah. On the mouth, of course.”
“Fine, but make it quick. And I’m not a kid. You’re only, like, two years older than me.”
“Whatever. Now pucker up, baby.”
Amanda closed her eyes and puckered. When Faith’s lips touched hers she instantly tried to pull back, but the older girl’s hand was at the back of her head. When she began to protest her lips parted, allowing Faith’s tongue to slip into her mouth. Amanda started to push her away, but somehow the horror of another girl’s tongue in her mouth just wasn’t that horrible. Faith’s lips were soft, unlike the boys she’d kissed, and as the tongue swirled in her mouth she felt a tingling begin to build in her cootchie. In spite of her anger and humiliation she felt aroused. She knew that if she touched them now she would find her panties soaking wet. Her own tongue slid into Faith’s mouth.
“Ooo yeah, that’s hot!” Amanda opened her eyes to find that Tiffany was watching from just a foot or two away. She snapped out of her trance and pushed free.
“Alright. We had a bargain. Now let me out.”
“We were just starting to have fun, baby,” said Faith.
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Faith said, unlocking the door. “We’ll see you around.”
By the time Amanda got home she was in a state of total confusion. She couldn’t deny that making out with Faith had made her incredibly hot–as hot as she’d ever been in her life. Did it mean she was gay? Was she going to start hanging out with the field hockey team, and quit shaving her legs? No, of course not! What the hell had happened?
Standing in front of the full length mirror on the back of her bedroom door, she quickly stripped off her clothes. She looked at her body as objectively as she could, and wondered if Faith and Tiffany (and Dr. Scott) thought she was attractive. “Am I a lesbian?” she asked herself.
With that she pulled back the covers and threw herself down on the bed. Her fingers went straight to her sensitive nipples. “Ohh,” she cried, “fuck!” One hand delved into her slippery pink folds and found her clit. Her mouth fell open and her eyes closed. This is it, she thought. I’m going to have an orgasm. She rubbed her clit faster and a series of small moans escaped her throat, one after another.
Just as the pleasure built to a level that seemed impossible to sustain there was a knock at the door.
“Amanda, can I come in?” her mother called.
“Uh, just a second!” She grabbed the sheet and pulled it up to her chin just as her mom came into the room.
“Hi, honey. I wanted to ask how things went tonight.”
“Fine Mom, fine.” She felt very exposed with only the thin sheet covering her naked body. Amanda’s mother, who had been only twenty when her daughter was born, looked at her with concern. The young brunette’s face was flushed and covered with beads of sweat.
“Honey, are you alright? Are you feverish?” She was about to put her hand on her daughter’s forehead when the scent of pussy reached her nostrils. It clicked immediately. Amanda had been masturbating.
“It’s okay Mom, I’m not sick. I–I just walked home really fast and I got overheated.”
“That’s fine, honey. I’ll let you get back to–I mean, I’ll let you get some rest now, and we’ll talk tomorrow.” Her mother turned so that Amanda wouldn’t see the smile on her face. “Goodnight dear.”
Amanda took a deep breath, relieved that she hadn’t been caught playing with herself. She sighed. The mood was lost. She turned off the light and rolled onto her side to go to sleep.
Back at the institution on Friday, Amanda was in a much better frame of mind. Tiffany and Faith hadn’t been there during Amanda’s Wednesday shift, and she had spent a good part of the evening working with Dr. Scott. He was funny and charming and the sweet teen developed something of a crush on the handsome doctor. He was unfailingly polite and hadn’t shown the least interest in her sexually–it was a little disappointing, really. Amanda was accustomed to men of all ages flirting and even openly hitting on her, but Dr. Scott treated her like a kid sister. She began to open up and feel very comfortable with him.
Faith and Tiffany hadn’t mentioned anything about the events of Monday evening, and by the time the end of their shift rolled around they were all friendly again. The two interns were chatting with the tall doctor outside the employee lounge as Amanda walked up.
“Hey kid, we’re going outside to get high,” said Faith. “Wanna come with us? You’re coming, right Derek?”
“Sure thing,” he answered.
“Dr. Scott! Really?” Amanda was shocked.
“Why not? I find that a little marijuana is medically sound after a long week.”
The girls all laughed. Amanda wasn’t sure what to do. She was a little afraid to smoke dope with the two college students, but she also didn’t want Dr. Scott to think she was a ‘just a kid.’ Getting high with him would be a good chance to hang out on a more adult level. Maybe if she only took a few drags it wouldn’t affect her judgment too badly.
“Okay, let’s go,” she said.
They stepped out a back door into the cool evening. Tiffany once again pulled a joint from her pack of Marlboro Lights and fired it up. She passed it to Dr. Scott, who took a hit before handing it to Faith. She inhaled deeply and passed it to Amanda. She only hesitated slightly before taking a hit. A little concerned that she would embarrass herself by coughing, the teenager didn’t suck as much smoke into her lungs as she might have. She passed the joint back to Tiffany.
The joint went around several more times, but Amanda only accepted it twice more, remembering her earlier resolve. What she didn’t know was that the weed was very high quality bud and it was laced with opium. The others smoked this mixture on a regular basis and they had built up something of a tolerance.
By the time the joint was gone everyone was stoned, but Amanda was totally ripped.
“Oh wow,” she said. “I feel sooo relaxed.” She started to giggle.
“Somebody’s wasted,” said Faith in a stage whisper. Amanda thought this was funny and giggled some more.
“You two keep her out of sight,” said Dr. Scott. “I need to go finish my rounds.”
“Where you goin’ sweet thang?” Amanda gurgled.
“I’ll catch you later, baby,” he grinned. Amanda didn’t see the wink he gave the two college girls. They stayed outside so that Faith and Tiffany could smoke a cigarette. Amanda was in a great mood. She felt like nothing could upset her, that she was ready for anything.
“So wha’d'ya say baby?” Faith began. “You wanna pick up where we left off the other night?”
“What?” Amanda laughed. Everything was funny.
“You know, you and me, a little tongue action.”
“Huh?” the stoned teenager said stupidly.
“Kiss me, you goddam little tease,” and with that Faith wrapped her arms around the hot teen and stuck her tongue in the girl’s mouth. Amanda’s eyes opened wide but she didn’t freak out. The dope she had smoked dulled her mind but inflamed her senses. A small part of Amanda’s brain was outraged, but it felt so good she just stood there and passively let the older girl kiss her.
Faith grabbed a handful of chestnut brown hair and placed the other hand on Amanda’s leg. Kissing passionately, the naughty coed slid her hand higher up Amanda’s thigh until her fingers brushed against damp panties. “Stop,” the sexy teenager said, but weakly. Her pussy tingled madly and her tits were aching to be squeezed.
Faith lifted her mouth from Amanda’s and looked at her. There was a troubled, confused expression on the face of the gorgeous teenager, but she didn’t try to remove the hand from her thigh. Faith took this as a green light. She caught Tiffany’s eye, and the blonde moved in behind Amanda and began to kiss the nape of her neck while Faith explored the young girl’s cunt lips through her panties.
“No–” she said, but when Faith began to rub her vulva in earnest Amanda’s head tipped back and her mouth fell open. Tiffany used her knee to move the teen’s legs apart slightly, allowing her to reach the girl’s pussy from behind. Her hand went up Amanda’s skirt and inside her panties.
In no time at all Tiffany was drilling the young brunette’s sopping pussy with two fingers while Faith was rubbing her clit. Having learned from their first experience with the busty teen, they left her tits alone–for now.
Amanda said, “No…no…no,” almost rhythmically, but the words didn’t hold any conviction–they came out as moans. Her body was completely given over to sensation. There was a need building inside her, and she had to satisfy it. Nothing else mattered, including her dignity, as the experienced fingers of the college coeds worked her pussy.
“Oh my God, yes,” Amanda said. “Fuck my pussy with your fingers!” She was grinding her mound against Faith’s hand while Tiffany’s fingertips caressed her G-spot. “Yes, yes, yes…”
Faith shot a look at Tiffany and they grinned. Amanda’s first-ever orgasm was fast approaching. “Yes! Oh, fuck yes! Yes…yes…YESSS! AHH—mmph!” Faith clamped a hand over the brunette teen’s mouth as her world exploded. She was aware of nothing except pleasure and a tremendous sense of relief. Her limbs trembled with the aftershocks, but Tiffany and Faith didn’t let up.
Amanda’s juices were running down Tiffany’s hand and the blonde coed was able to slip a third finger inside the bucking, spasming girl. Amanda reached another peak even higher than the first, and she bit down on Faith’s hand to keep from screaming. Her pleasure was so great that something snapped in her brain–synapses parted, wires tore loose–who knew it could be this good? Her body gave a lurch and then sagged. Amanda had passed out.
Please sit, Dear Reader, and let me tell you my story. It may seem ordinary and humble to me, but in your country and perhaps in your era (should my words survive), the lives of women may be different. In this record, I wish to serve as an example of how things should –and shouldn’t– be.
I am not an artful writer, so grant me indulgence and I will tell my tale frankly. The year is 1929. The place is the USSR –the Union of Soviet Science and Research. Already, thanks to the rapid advance of electro-magnetic technologies, we have mechanized our nation and improved our farming. Grain shortages have been averted. Our Electro-Zeppelin farms prowl the sky trapping lightning. And most importantly, our population is growing. I am a proud part of the population management goals laid out in our great First Five Year Plan.
You see, I am a “Factory girl”: a woman bred to breed, to perpetuate the Motherland through her labour. But, I am only a young Factory girl. Though physically mature and of age, I am new to the Factory floor. I was raised in the State Nursery, so like all the other girls, I had no idea that my career would be to labour with my body in the Factory. I had rather hoped to be given the position of switchboard operator on Work Allocations Day. But of all my high test scores, the ones they counted most were my physicals, which showed me to be especially fit and fertile. When I protested, they just repeated the Allocations motto:
“All Work Equally and All Work is Equal.”
So, to the Factory I went. They have been trying their best to train me on the job here. I am ashamed to admit that I was resistant to the service at first. True, I was bred to be docile to men and the fertilization machines they use on me. But some stray inheritance or outmoded morality passed on to me by teachers or schoolmates made me stubbornly uncooperative in my conduct, in my ideology, in my lack of comradely behaviour, and most of all in my refusal to be penetrated.
I have been a bad girl. But no more. This is the story of how I put aside my personal revolt and learned to embrace the Revolution.
It was a cold day in February the day my conversion began. My Factory Director, whom we girls called the “Owner,” had brought me to see the Doctor in our region. Her name was Doctor Pavlova. I recall her so vividly: a tall, dark-haired, commanding woman, pristine in her white coat, deft and skilful with her white-gloved hands. I had never seen a woman Doctor, and I am sure I stared at her unabashedly. How did she managed to get such a lofty position, when professions were almost always allocated to men? Or rather, who did she know, what powerful Party connections did she have, to be granted the favour of a change in her allocation?
I was standing lost in wonderment in her office when my Owner took my arm and jolted me back to reality. He pushed me roughly towards a side door, then turned back to talk to the Doctor. I realized that I was to be taken away without even being told why I was there or what the procedure would be.
‘Unfair,’ I thought. ‘This is unfair.’
I made an unhappy noise in my throat, shoved back against his hand as much as I could, and kicked my heels against the floor as I walked, trying to get their attention enough demand to know what was happening to me. But my little disturbance was completely ignored as they both continued to look over my registration papers. Not knowing what else to do, I went through the sickly-green wooden door I had been pushed towards. Right away I was met by a nurse, a rail-thin blonde woman in starched whites. She took me to a little side closet and demanded that I take off all of my clothes except for my underlinens.
“Yes, Miss,” I said, “I certainly will. Only, could you leave or turn around or just, just give me some privacy to undress? I’m…ill at ease, being watched.”
The nurse’s lips twitched.
“Ill or not, I’ve been ordered to watch you.” She said. “And a word to the wise: watch your language, Comrade. You of all people shouldn’t be concerned with a bourgeois concept like ‘privacy.’ Everyone knows what you do in the Factory.”
My blood rose. My eyes fell. My hands shook with shame and anger as I slowly reached up to the buttons of my blouse. I undid them one by one, trying to be quick, yet afraid of the exposure. You see, under my regulation shift, I’d added some extra wrappings to hold my breasts down. I’m not as full-breasted as some of the other Factory girls, but I’m big enough and I’ve always preferred to look smaller. Besides which, the binding makes me feel good. It makes me feel secure. They wanted to take all that away from me. So while I stripped off my shift, I left on the bindings and crossed my arms over my breasts, half in resistance, half in the hope of passing unnoticed.
The air was so cold on my exposed arms that it raised gooseflesh on my skin. I tried to ignore it. I kept one arm tightly over my bound breasts and used the other to hook a finger in the back of my skirt, undo the catch, and slide it down, leaving me in my knickers. To my utter humiliation, I could see the skin along my sides and belly was all prickly and aroused. I could barely tell whether I was hot or cold. I was blushing, and yet my skin felt electrified, visibly so. The Nurse nodded in approval, muttering to herself. I caught the words “built for it.” I thought I caught an older word, a Prohibited word, but she couldn’t have said it. She couldn’t have called me “slut.” Still, I glared at her and crossed my arms harder over my breasts.
“I’m ready,” I said, purposely omitting the “Miss” this time.
“Not til you take off those rags around your breasts. Knickers only, that’s what she’s ordered.”
The look in her eye was steely, but then again so was my resolve. I didn’t move. I faced her down until she actually grabbed my arms, forced them open, and started to strip me herself, tearing the linens I’d so carefully hoarded.
“No, don’t rip them!” I yelped.
“Well then, you do it.” She replied testily.
I had to back down and submit to doing it myself. Flushing with humiliation under her sharp gaze, I unpinned and unwound the wrappings. My freshly-bared nipples were hard and pointed –a reaction, I told myself, to the cold tile under my feet, the cold air on my skin. The Nurse smirked as she tossed me a blue cloth hospital robe with ties in the back. I was in it in a flash, tying the strings behind me in awkward bows. The Nurse looked me up and down. Finally she said,
“Go in. The Doctor will see you now.”
I entered the room carefully, though all the caution in the world couldn’t stop the blue robe from opening in the back. I glanced to my Owner, and he gestured for me to stand before a mirrored wall. Doctor Pavlova sat at her desk behind me, checking my charts in reverse-image. After a few moments she spoke to me absently, without even looking up.
“Hmm. Interesting. Natalya, do you know what your Owner says about you? What they say about you at the Factory? They say you aren’t taking to your training or doing your work. You don’t like it. Whatever could be wrong with you?”
I frowned to be called ‘wrong,’ and insisted with quiet defiance,
“Nothing is wrong with me.”
“Nothing? Come now, that can’t be true if you’re not working. Speak plainly with your Doctor.”
“Well, I just don’t want it.”
“Don’t ‘want it’?”
“I mean, I can’t. I can’t do…what they want.”
I could see my clasped hands beginning to tremble against the too-thin robe in the mirror.
“And why not?”
“Because–” as I confessed my shame rose to envelop me like a hot tide. I shook my head, cheeks burning to admit, “Because it hurts me.”
Doctor Pavlova, far from being appeased with my confession, seemed annoyed. She stood up and walked over, looking straight at me for the first time. She said,
“You will have to give more detail than that. What hurts, precisely?”
“It hurts when they…when I’m penetrated vaginally. When my Owner does it himself, and when they use the fertilization machine on me.” I shivered, recalling the particularly large chrome shaft used to ‘train’ uncooperative workers. “And then, I can’t help it, I scream and pull back, I fight, I won’t let them inside me.”
“Well, well. That is a problem. There must be something very wrong with you.”
I shook my head again, then stared straight ahead with determination. The thoughts flashed in my mind like the title cards in the Kino-Pravda films:
‘I am right.’ ‘I know I’m right.’ ‘The system is wrong.’
But when the Doctor laid her firm hand on my shoulder, I wavered. She said to me,
“You are a worker who refuses to work. There is clearly a problem here. Now, the question is this: is the problem in your mind–” she stroked down my shoulder to my breast “–or in your body?”
I couldn’t answer. I was overcome with emotion, with sensation. Doctor Pavlova smiled.
“We will just have to run some tests to find out. Take off the robe.”
“Yes, Doctor,” I whispered.
I pretended to fumble with the strings. I acted as if I couldn’t find them, to delay or to get her to bare me and spare me the humiliation of doing it myself, I can’t say. But she and my Owner simply watched, so finally I had to catch the ties and pull. I let each arm slip out of its sleeve individually, so that I could still hold the robe before me to hide my naked breasts. I was sometimes naked in my private cubicle on the Factory floor, but here, under the powerful gazes of the Doctor and my Owner, the experience was completely different. I clutched the fabric to against myself, feeling my nipples harden again through the stiff fabric, until she said,
“Hand it to me.”
With that, I was forced to bare myself directly to her and reveal my body. I handed her the robe.
“Now your knickers,” she said.
I couldn’t refuse. I closed my legs as much as I could and wriggled, pulling the knickers down over my hips without even untying the strings. I handed them to her. I could see myself in the mirror, my thighs folded around the smooth yet terribly suggestive V between my legs. I squeezed tighter, hiding and compressing the tender flesh of my sex. To my horror, I felt something I had never felt on the Factory floor: a heat, a tingling, a flow deep inside me.
‘Stop it,’ I told my body. ‘This is not the time nor place! Resist!’
But I couldn’t help it. I was getting aroused.
Once I was naked, Doctor Pavlova put me through the standard, State-regulated physical exercises. These were not meant to be done in the nude, or with others watching. Even in group sessions were always told to keep our gazes forward and maintain our modesty at all times. But she stripped me and turned me to face the mirror, so she could see me from every angle –and so that I must see every shameful thing I was made to do.
She had me do a series of ten squats first. The Nurse came in and turned on a metronome, to set the rhythm. She counted aloud –one and two, one and two– as I stood, legs together, and then crouched. I tried at first to crouch without opening my legs, but I nearly lost my balance. It was much easier if I spread my legs a little, as I was taught in Physicals. Only every time I spread, I could feel the cool air on my wetness. I begged in my mind for it to end, but as soon as I’d finished the squats, she made me do jumping jacks. My breasts bounced painfully without anything to hold them down. Though I was fit enough from years of compulsory exercise, the situation left me gasping as if I’d run a marathon. The Doctor tsk’d and took my pulse rate at the end. She listened to my heartbeat, cold stethoscope against my prickling flesh. And then, for no apparent reason at all, she reached out and gave each of my nipples a hard tweak.
“Your heart rate is appalling,” she told me. “Your level of sexual arousal, however, is just what we’d expect from a Factory Girl. Let’s do one more round to be sure. On the table.”
I climbed onto the examination table and sat with my legs closed and drawn up. The Nurse came over and pulled my ankles apart and down, strapping them to opposite corners of the narrow bed. After inspecting the placement of my legs, Doctor Pavlova circled round the bed and attached a monitor of some kind to my breast with a sticky rubber pad. Then she commanded me to place my hands behind my head and do ten sit ups with my legs spread. I should not have had trouble, but with my legs so wide, I had very little leverage. Oh, no, I have to confess, that wasn’t the real problem. It was the stares of the Doctor and of my Owner, which seemed to rest on my body like lead weights. My thighs and belly liquefied, quivering. I began my course of sit ups, but after six I had to stop, slick with sweat and panting.
“No, please, I can’t. I won’t do this!”
The Doctor gestured sharply. I received a flat slap on the belly from the Nurse, as casual as goading a horse, and just like a horse I jumped at the sting and began immediately with a new wind. Every time I raised my head, I could see the glistening thing between my legs. I wanted to crawl away under the table and hide. But in the end, after another round of measurements, I was certified healthy.
“Her general physical health is fine,” the Doctor reported to my Owner, fully in my hearing. “So it must be a psychosomatic effect. Like a switchboard, the body is connected to the mind, and vice versa. We must check to make sure all the connections are being made.”
“How can you test that?” I asked boldly.
The Doctor gave me a rap on the cheek for my impertinence, hard enough to turn my head.
“You will see,” she said.
What happened next…well, there is no shame in the Factory, not any more, so I will just say it. To begin my sexual testing, she started by measuring the sensitivity of my nipples. She had me get up off of the table, and stand back before the mirror, so that I could see everything that was done to me. She stood behind me and began to knead and caress my breasts, asking at intervals how much I felt. At first, I told her,
“Nothing, I’m not sensitive there.”
I was lying in the hope that she would give up and move on. Instead, it only made her treat me more roughly. Her gloved hands twisted my breasts, and she used her long nails to pinch my nipples like bladed vises. She twisted quick, and the heat of friction alone was nearly unbearable. Added to her nails, the sensation was sharp, vivid, exquisite. I cried out despite myself and my hips bucked like an animal.
“Ah. She responds to pain, does she?” Doctor Pavlova murmured ominously.
With clinical calm, she produced two serrated metal clips and attached them my erect nipples, each facing down and curving out with fearful symmetry. It didn’t hurt right away, but the longer she kept them on me, the more I began to feel their sharp little teeth digging into my tender flesh. The pain grew and grew–and so did my excitement. My eyes closed in something halfway between ecstasy and horror as my body rocked back and forth, almost thrusting against the mirror. I tried to rein it in, but still my hips squirmed.
“Time for a manual check,” the Doctor said.
I could hear her snapping her gloves, pulling them up. I could see her ice-blue eyes, cold as the Siberian sky, reflected in the mirror over my shoulder as she leaned in behind me. But I couldn’t tell what her hands were up to until suddenly I felt a smooth finger sliding between my nether lips. She drew her finger along, then pushed up and into my hole until I whimpered. She fingered me long and hard. Then she pulled out and held the slick tip of her gloved finger right in front of my face. It was glistening with thick clear fluid.
“What is this?” she asked.
“I don’t know!” I cried, innocent and panicked.
“You are lubricating. It’s what your body does to ready you for your duty.”
“No, no, I don’t want it!”
“No? But you’re wet all the way up to here.” She traced the line of my furrow up to what I would shortly learn was my clitoris. “The juice is fairly dripping out of you. You do want it. You just don’t know it yet.”
When she touched me there, my knees went weak with blossoming pleasure. It was so dizzying that the Doctor had to catch me by one shoulder, rough enough to bruise.
“Ah yes!” She exclaimed. “I see what your problem is now. Listen to me. There are two kinds of women, sexually speaking. First there are those who are aroused mainly through stimulation of the clitoris.”
She rubbed my clit again with circular motions until I moaned aloud, my voice echoing shamefully.
“And then there are those who take pleasure in vaginal penetration.”
Her finger slid down and into me. Deep.
“Clit girls are apt to masturbate, that is, to waste their energy and productive potential in pointless self-pleasure.”
She pinched my clit with her other hand, using pain to emphasize the point that my pleasure was wrong, though being abused this way just made me squirm even more.
“By contrast, a good woman wants to be used the natural way, to take seed from a man’s member or his scientific instrument into her womb. You, my broken creature, are the wrong kind of woman. You need treatment. We need to conduct a pleasure reassignment.”
She was tormenting my body so much that I couldn’t even speak to disagree, but only make whining, nonverbal protests. Doctor Pavlova, however, turned coolly to check with my Owner, and then called in her Nurse.
“We’ll begin today.”
She delegated again. She was so cold, the way she handed me off to the Nurse. It was the Nurse who put me back on the table, kneeling on all fours like a dog. There was a long shaft attached to an armature on the foot of the bed, and this she raised so that it was positioned on the bed below me with the tip pointed up ominously between my legs. It was still too far away to penetrate me, but I could just imagine it rising, striking into me, piercing me again and again. So vivid was my imagination that it surprised me very much when the Doctor came over and laid a hand on my raised rear end.
“Sit,” she said, pushing my hips into a sitting-dog position, my sex towards the shaft.
When I resisted, she gave me a hard slap on the ass, then another and another in quick succession. Some perverse instinct made me hold the pose and just stay like that as she thrashed my bottom until it burned so bright and hot I felt it must be glowing. I could feel my sex flushing wide, gasping, and so I lowered my hips just a little, into a crouch. The tip of the shaft touched my lips, and in that moment, the Doctor flicked a switch so that it began to vibrate. It was electrical! It was just brushing my lower lips, not direct enough to make me come, but close enough that I panted and cried and sat, trying to press my hips back further so that the stimulation would be on my clit. I wriggled shamelessly and still couldn’t reach. Then the shaft pulled away. To my surprise I nearly cried for it to come back. Something had been put into action within my body that couldn’t be stopped. It had to be completed.
“Shall we finish the correction today?” Doctor Pavlova asked aloud.
“Yes, please, please!” I screamed, unable to help myself. Within a split second I realized she had been talking to my Owner, and felt furious at my outburst. But they both laughed.
“It’s a very effective program for ones like her,” the Doctor remarked. “Now, Nurse, we’re changing position. Get her head down and her bottom up. She should bow for this.”
Before I could respond (and I admit: I wanted to respond), the nurse pushed my face down to the metal tabletop and parted my legs as my ass lifted. In this position my sex was helplessly exposed, my liquid arousal running down my inner thighs. As I trembled, bent over that way, Doctor Pavlova approached. In that moment, all my senses came into hyperfocus. The sound of her heels clicking on the tile floor. The antiseptic smell. The harsh white light. The ache in my shoulders and the arch of my back. How had I never experienced this before?
Slowly, so terribly slowly, she broke into my vivid sensory world and slid something long, silvery, and resonant up into my sex, right up to a rubber lip at the handle. I was being forced to focus on the sensation of my vagina being fully penetrated, filled deeper and wider than I ever knew I could take. In fact, it hurt more than I could handle. Little alarms began to go off telling me I was being torn, and panic rose in me swift as an arctic wind. I began to chill, to fight.
“No. NO!” My voice pitched high.
“Nurse, syringe.” The Doctor said calmly.
Then, oh so lightly, she pressed a tiny point into my round, bared ass-cheek. I hardly felt the initial prick, but suddenly a deep, sensual ache spread through the muscles of my butt, thighs, and groin, and along with it a heightening of sensation in my full, throbbing cunt. A powerful elation swept through me, and an equally powerful and startling conversion, as the pain in my sex grew so intense that it tipped over into a vast pleasure. My mind fogged, grew incoherent. All I could hear, calling across a vast tundra, were the words:
‘What have they done to me?’
It was as if the Doctor read my mind. Leaning right down to speak into my ear, she said,
“That was something to help you understand what you should feel. An aphrodisiac. A powerful one. Now, sit up and take your weight on the shaft.”
At the Doctor’s command, I knelt from my head-down position. I was coursing with unaccustomed pleasure, and my body showed it in every line and gesture, from my high, taut breasts pushed out by the extreme arch of my back to the rhythmic thrust of my hips. Noting how I pressed my breast out, the Doctor paused to attach a wire to the clamps on my nipples and plugged it into to a machine nearby. At the flick of a switch, a weak electric current passed through them, making me prickle all over from the tips up.
“Just a little extra charge,” she commented offhandedly to my Owner.
At that, she slid the vibrating wand out of me. For a moment I gasped, empty, until I saw that she had placed something even larger below me. It was a shaft of chrome, and one I knew well. It was one of the fertilizing wands. From my brief and so far incomplete training, I knew what I had to do. I knelt up straight, positioned the shaft below me, and then knelt back hard, so that gravity pulled me down and the shaft was jammed up, deep into my drugged and oversensitive body.
I began to lose all sense of will, of control, even of self at this point, and my memory refracts like sunlight through ice crystals. I recall Doctor Pavlova guiding me to lift my hips and lower them, forcing me to pierce myself over and over. I recall the nipple clamps tightened, tightened until I screamed aloud. Something was pushed into my open mouth –a gag, another machinic shaft, something I couldn’t see through the tears of ecstasy streaming down my face. I was completely opened, forced into a state of elated receptivity, and would have taken anything in that moment. When Pavlova saw my movements growing faster and more desperate, she pushed my shoulders down and my ass right to the surface of the table, driving the chrome shaft inside me up to its handle and then some. Something coursed into me, a liquid rush filling me. Even through the aphrodisiac, the pain was like nothing I’ve known –and yet it was so exquisite that my body took over and I lifted up and thrust down fully, once, twice –indeed, I only managed to do it three times before my orgasm struck like lightning, fast, wild, and convulsive. I shook as I came, really came, explosive and eternal, for the first time in my life.
And then, everything went dark as I collapsed, gasping, off the table and down to the floor.
I woke from my faint still on the floor, unhurt by the fall but dazed by what had been done to me. I lay there for a while, sheltering my nakedness protectively. I could vaguely sense Doctor Pavlova and my Owner standing over me and talking about me. Their power over my stricken body was absolute. Without a thought in my head, I rolled onto my back and spread my legs in the ‘receiving’ position I use in the Factory. I was inviting my Owner, the Doctor, anybody who wished, to use me however they wish.
Seeing me finally so compliant, Pavlova herself knelt down next to me and lifted me up into her lap. When my Owner stepped forward, she held up a hand, held him back, and said,
“Just a moment, Comrade. I want to test the effects of our treatment.”
Then she began to slowly and sensuously caress my pliant body, my face and throat, shoulders and breasts, all the way down to my ticklish, twitching belly. My eyes closed, and I realized I could hear her breathing hard, her heart pounding. I looked up and saw her face, her high cheekbones and narrow chin, now wreathed with wisps of dark hair escaped from her neat bun. There was a strangely tender look in her eyes, something sad and fatalistic. An unfulfillable longing. Without warning, I began to cry.
“What’s happening?” I sobbed. “I feel so…so…!”
Another sigh of sensual distress escaped me, the only way I could express my sudden, confused desire. I hated her, and yet that single glimpse of humanity struck me to the heart. I wanted her to hold me.
She leaned down until her lips brushed my ear and breathed,
“I know. Believe me, I know.”
I looked up to her again, questions forming on my lips. But before I could ask any of them, the Doctor seemed to remember her role. She reached out to the Nurse, who promptly handed her the silvery electric shaft. Shifting me on her lap so that my legs were open, she turned the vibratory instrument on low and ran it up my sex again.
“How does it feel now?” She asked in a low voice as she slid the shaft up inside me.
“It still hurts, deep inside.” I said. “But…”
“I want it. Please.”
She thrust the instrument into my flushed hole and pulled out, gently at first, then with increasing force. I flexed with the movement, riding it out. After several minutes with no more noticeable effect, she pulled the wand fully out and ran it up my cleft. The instant it touched my clit I jerked and moaned, a sharp rising sensation overtaking me. One of my hands raised, clutching the air, and Pavlova grabbed it and squeezed as I arched in pleasure. But as fast as it came, the wave of sensation that washed through my trembling muscles was gone again, leaving me raw. I was truly overstimulated, run beyond my ability to climax so hard again. In just one go, they had wrung me dry. Pavlova nodded and stroked my hair one more time before she set me down again.
It was the Nurse who helped me up, draped the cloth robe over my shoulders, and started to walk me out of the room. I could hear the Doctor talking to the Factory Owner in a calm, professional voice as I was lead out.
“She’s made good progress today. But her body is stubborn and I suspect her clit is still the more sensitive part of her, no matter what she says she wants or doesn’t. We will have to arrange another round of treatment, I think. For now, take her back to the Factory, carry on with the training, and give her a dose of the needle if she resists too much. I would also recommend…”
Ah, but what? I don’t know, the door closed behind me then. I was cursorily washed, dressed, and returned to the Factory, where I pen these reminiscences. I must admit, I fear next time. And yet, I want it too. I am becoming a good Comrade, a good Factory Girl, one step at a time. I can only hope that these writing prove instructive in times to come.
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