When the late Dr. Alfred Kinsey published his first monumental findings on the sex habits of the American people back in the late forties, his statistics on infidelity were shocking at times. It was the generation before our current sexual revolution, when censorship and the aftereffects of Mid Victorian puritanism were at their zenith. Until then, actually few clinical books had been disseminated on the erotic proclivities of the American male and female.
To be sure, the more educated of us had read the works of Freud, Jung, and Krafft-Ebing's well documented "Psychopathia Sexualis," that illuminating and pioneering study of the many fetishes which are to be found in sexual adventure. One of the more amusing sets of statistics which Kinsey evolved from his surveys was that the average female of the lower middle and lowest group of economic classes had an aversion to nudity during intercourse, and that generally both the male and the female who preferred being au naturel for the act of love ranked among the better educated classes of the American population. Still another finding, which possibly did more harm than good, was Kinsey's rather dictatorial argument that since the average female threshold required fifteen minutes to prepare for climax whereas the male could attain his in less than a minute, it was unnatural for the latter to hold himself back so as to synchronize with the female. Undeniably, this judgment has been proved to be entirely fallacious: Indeed, many divorces filed on the charge of "incompatibility" stemmed exactly from the male's lack of consideration for his female partner and his inability to gratify her needs rather than being selfishly concerned with his alone.
But as regards infidelity, Kinsey's surveys showed that at least one male out of every four had extra-marital intercourse and that, based on his study of a panel of some two thousand women, the ratio was about one out of every seven or eight wives who cheated on their husbands.
As we read this series of well documented and clinically collated volumes, we can very definitely see how the mores of society have been altered by a greater understanding and tolerance as well as by the widespread dissemination of informative literature. For when Kinsey and his colleagues compiled their statistics, there was still a widespread and almost national condemnation against "deviation"-by which was meant any slight variation from what was considered "normal intercourse." Moreover, the haunting and traumatic effects of guilt and fear, the heritage from the Victorian age which came to our shores, often influenced even the most intelligent and sophisticated young men and women, particularly the adolescent. There can be no doubt that much of our present-day juvenile delinquency can be traced to this long-lasting stigma of sexual guilt and fear, which influenced the teenager to make a drastic breakaway from such hypocritical social tenets and explore for himself or herself the byways of erotic freedom.
Undoubtedly, while infidelity no longer bears the social stigma in this generation that it carried in the past, there are still many comparatively young wives shackled by the gyves of prudish convention and the unseen bonds of their own strict and often bigoted upbringing who consider straying from the conjugal bed as a deadly sin. Mark Conroy's new novel explores the psychological as well as the physical reactions of attractive Alma Bridges, who at thirty-five visits a suave gynecologist because she fears that she is frigid. Though she has an extremely attractive sixteen-year-old daughter, Phyllis, her husband's absorption with his business and sexual neglect of her lead her to think that after seventeen years of marriage the mysterious pleasures of the bed are forever destined to be denied her.
At first, she has no intention whatsoever of breaking her marital vows, but the doctor's power of seduction and his knowledge of the most intimate secrets of her still desirable body waken her to a passionate submission. Not unexpectedly, her after-reaction is one of shame and fear that the doctor, who glibly promised to marry her if she could secure a divorce from her stolid and neglectful husband, is nothing more nor less than a womanizer who subsequently seduces her own young daughter, Alma begins to understand that with her newly acquired attunement to passion, she can open new doors of desire for her husband and salvage their marriage after all.
The moral overtones of this novel are clear: even within the frame of conventional, respectable marriage, all the erotic delights are possible for the enjoyment of both partners if they are candid and honest with each other.
The Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
Alma Bridges dabbed at her eyes with a perfumed lace handkerchief, very close to tears. "But, Doctor," she sniffled, "you've no idea how useless I feel, as if I'm used up and ready to be thrown away, and yet I'm only thirty-five. Oh, whatever shall I do?" The suave, tall, black-haired gynecologist leaned forward from his desk, to pat the dark-brown-haired matron on the shoulder. "My dear Mrs. Bridges," he unctuously purred, his face taking on a solicitous look, "the worst thing at this point is self-pity. And I assure you that you mustn't say such things about yourself. Let me do the diagnosing, if you please."
"But my husband-well, we just don't seem to have-you know-sex any more, Dr. Lorton," Alma Bridges kept her lovely, wistfully appealing face averted as she made this intimate avowal. "I-I have a sixteen-year-old daughter-that's Phyllis, you know, Dr. Lorton-but Douglas is so engrossed in his business that he never seems to have any time for me, never takes any notice. Why-" here, a choking sob interrupted her anguished recital, "last year, we had a sort of argument, and he-do you know, Dr. Lorton, he actually came out and said I was frfrigid? Oh my, it was so shameful, but maybe it's true-that's why-well, Mrs. Martha Foster, she's a neighbor of mine, told me how sympathetic and clever you are in treating cases like this-and so I thought-that's why I phoned for an appointment, you see!"
"Oh yes, I do know Mrs. Foster," Jason Lorton smiled reminiscently and touched the tip of his neatly waxed moustache. At thirty-six, with an elegant suite of offices in the Garland Building in Chicago's Loop he specialized in the treatment of nervous and physical disorders of the female genitalia. Though he occasionally consulted in maternity cases, he had for the past five years limited his practice almost entirely to attractive young and mature matrons who, honestly speaking, were neurotically more in need of a psychiatrist than a gynecologist. Also, through his influential connections, he treated quite a number of young women from the lower economic classes, since Medicaid amply rewarded him-especially with the system the had devised to make it still more rewarding.
Yes, he had good reason to remember Martha Foster. The tall, wheat-blonde tennis-playing wife of one of Chicago's professional basketball players, she had visited him not quite six months ago for the treatment of a minor infection which, hugely embarrassing to the lithe matron, had been caused by improper toilet hygiene. She had been terrified at the thought that she might have caught a venereal disease from a weekend sex bout with a New York sportswriter who had known her back in high school and who had come to Chicago while her husband's team was on the West Coast for an extended road trip. Dr. Lorton had set her mind at rest and playfully told her, "Next time, my dear, just wipe upward instead of downward and it won't happen again. I assure you it happens to thousands of nice women like yourself. Now don't fret about it any more, it'll be cleared up by next week."
Martha Foster had been so relieved that she had flung her arms around him and hugged him right there in his office. About ten minutes later, she was lying naked on his leatherpadded examining table, her beautifully slim fingers with their elegantly polished nails feverishly working back and forth over his spinal column. Mounted, as he was, upon her and gently thrusting back and forth, he had slipped his left forefinger into her butthole and his right against her clit and given her a three-way stimulation which had drawn her to the first really furious orgasm she had ever known. A little later, she had blushingly confessed that star athletes were far from being studs in bed. Even her ex-flame hadn't had the doctor's wonderful technique in knowing just how to make a woman cum the way nature intended her to.
Alma Bridges had become more and more depressed over the past few months because her stolid, hard-working husband seemed to take longer and longer business trips in his capacity as vice president in charge of new business for a huge Midwestern sales engineering firm. So, when Martha Foster had invited her for coffee and sweet rolls a few mornings ago she had learned how clever and sympathetic Dr. Jason Lorton was. Immediately she had telephoned for an appointment for this April Friday afternoon.
"Now the very first thing I'm going to do, Mrs.
Bridges," he smilingly assured her, "is to give you a complete examination. And I'm sure that we'll be able to put your unfounded suspicions to rest once and for all. But you must have absolute confidence in me, my dear lady. Just the way Mrs. Foster did."
"Oh, I almost do already, Dr. Lorton," Alma Bridges managed a faint smile as she dabbed at her eyes again and then thrust her handkerchief into her alligator-skin purse and drew a deep breath. "Martha-I mean Mrs. Foster-says you're just the most wonderfully understanding man when it comes to knowing the problems of a woman. You see, Dr. Lorton, in spite of all this talk about Women's Lib, I'm afraid men are still terribly selfish, self-centered creatures. When you've been married 17 years as I have, you begin to worry that you're getting old and unattractive. And of course, with your husband away so much of the time on his job, you start thinking that maybe he's found a pretty young girl-you know-oh dear-I-I didn't mean to burden you with all my troubles!"
"That's what I'm here for, dear lady," he gave her another affectionate little pat, his attentive smile deepening and his dark-brown eyes magnetically fixed on her winsome, blushing face. He was thinking that, liking variety in pussy as he did, Alma Bridges was exactly the opposite from tall, somewhat lean Martha Foster, and opulently brownette to Martha's almost wiry blondeness. And now that she had avowed herself as being accused of frigidity by her husband, it would be child's play to persuade her that the fault was that of an unenlightened, unintelligent husband who really didn't know how to appreciate the voluptuous houri he had in his own house. Aloud, he said gently, "Now why don't you go behind that screen and undress for me, like a good girl, Mrs. Bridges? We'll get the examination over with, and then I can ask you some questions so that we can get down to the root of the problem."
"All-all right, Dr. Lorton. I mean-how much do you want me to take off?"
She rose unsteadily, still averting her eyes from his, and his glance flicked downward to observe the lusciously rounded, still very trim calves in beige nylons, with dainty brown suede pumps in medium-sized heels adding what he estimated to be three inches to her probable height of five feet five, give or take an inch. Her brown rayon dress accentuated her still fairly slim waist and the jut of ripe full hips and long but beautifully curvaceous thighs. The neckline was cut modestly, but the bodice of the dress hugged narrowly spaced, lushly rounded tits, just a trifle pendulous but still exciting to conjecture what they would be like when naked and quivering to his sinewy grip. He had found that a great many women loved being fucked while their tits were being rather roughly manipulated and their nipples licked and sucked. It would be interesting to see what turned Alma Bridges on, he told himself with a flicker of desire which sent a tingling ache through his already stiffening prick.
"I should say the dress, and I presume you have a slip or petticoat?" he ventured. When she had confirmed this with an embarrassed little nod, he went on, "And of course your lingerie, but you can keep your bra, of course. Then if you'll make yourself comfortable on the table over there, I'll make it as quick as I can."
"I-I'm awfully shy, Doctor. You see-Douglasmy husband-well, when we do have s-sex, and it's been less and less the last few years, the lights are always off and I-well-he keeps his pajamas on and I-I wear a nightie. I guess I'm not used to being n-naked in a man's presence."
"I quite understand, dear lady," his voice was sirupy and soothing, and he gave her a look of profound compassion which made her quiver with flattered pleasure. "Perhaps that's the heart of the problem itself, but I'll be better able to tell once I've examined you. Now you must remember I'm your doctor, not a man. And no one will disturb us. Miss Naughton, my nurse, has gone over to the pharmacist's on an errand. She won't be back for at least an hour, and you're my very last appointment this afternoon."
"All-all right, Doctor," Alma Bridges was flustered as she moved behind the screen, and her cheeks were burning. Oh my, isn't this ridiculous? I'm a married woman with a practically grown daughter, and I'm blushing like a schoolgirl because I have to undress for a doctor. But the thing is, I-I never have been all naked in front of a man, not even Douglas. Maybe that's what's wrong-no, it can't be. It's just that Douglas is tired of me.
Hastily, she drew off the dress, then the chastely cut white nylon slip, and bit her lips as she hesitated. Seeing herself with her ripely curvaceous figure accentuated by the tight white satin-elastic girdle over which she wore pink nylon panties, and the matching pink nylon bra with its tight bandeau and full cusps which helped tilt her full breasts up she was now embarrassed because it appeared extremely tight.
Finally, her blushes deepening, the attractive matron tugged down her panties and stepped out of them. Somewhat shamefacedly she emerged, both hands clapped over the extremely furry thatch of her cuntal fleece.
"That's fine, Mrs. Bridges," Dr. Lorton's voice was gently soothing, "Now if you'll get up on that table and make yourself comfortable. Just slip off your shoes and hook you feet in those stirrups. It'll facilitate the examination."
Averting her face from him, Alma Bridges clambered onto the table, lay down on her back and thrust her stockinged heels through the stirrups at the end. She gasped faintly, discovering that this stretched her legs immodestly apart and made her all too aware of the display of the thick dark-brown curls which began at her lower abdomen and luxuriantly descended to frame and almost cover the twitching pink cuntal lips themselves. Oh dear, I never realized-oh, it's so embarrassing-it-it's like an animal, all that hair down there, she thought to herself. She closed her eyes and dug her fingernails into her already sweating palms, feeling her heart pound with an erratic, more rapid beat as he approached.
"You say you have a daughter, Mrs. Bridges?" she heard the clink of instruments, and this caused the flesh of her lusciously rounded thighs, milky-sheened above her stocking tops, to twitch with apprehension.
"Y-yes, Doctor. Phyllis my daughter, is sixteenShe's our only child."
"I understand. Ahum-do you and your husband still have regular sexual relations, Mrs. Bridges?"
Now her face was a fiery red and she turned it to one side as she faintly answered, stammering a little in her discomfiture. "Y-yes, but-but not very often the last two or three years. Maybe-weller-once a week, and sometimes, when he's away on business, as-as little as once a month."
She forced herself to open her eyes, and saw him standing at the foot of the table, drawing on a pair of rubber gloves. Beside him was a wheel-cart on whose porcelain surface lay several gleaming instruments, one which suggested the shape of an eggbeater. She gasped and quickly closed her eyes again, the flesh of her thighs flinching now at the thought of being explored . . . there.
"I see. Now-you'll forgive me, but I have to ask these personal questions. Do you take the pill or-"
"Oh-I-Iknow what you mean D-Doctor," she blurted, feeling the heat of her blushes intensify. "No-I-I-that is D-D-Douglas wears something-and-and when-that is, when we have-Iwear a diaphram. That was from our old family Doctor, Dr. Robertson-he-he retired you know and that's another reason I called you."
"Yes, so you told Miss Naughton. Well now I think I have the picture. Now do try to relax dear lady."
"Y-yes D-DoctorOOOOOOH!" He had drawn a white sheet over her body, her upraised, straddled knees making a tent. He turned on a blazing overhead light which aimed down at her loins, and , having drawn on a pair of surgical rubber gloves, applied K-Y jelly to the right forefinger.
Dr. Jason Lorton then lifted a corner of the sheet to expose Alma Bridges' upturned, gaping cunt and began to lubricate the labia of the urethral outlet, then the fleshy, crinkly pink labia majora of her voluptuous cunt. The delicate friction and titillation had made her squirm, her head slightly raising, eyes very wide and humid, while a furious wave of crimson suffused her cheeks and forehead.
"Is there any pain there Mrs. Bridges?" his forefinger pressed lightly against the dainty, secretive clitorial nodule hidden in the protective cowl of palpitating cuntal flesh. It was the first time in her life that hypersensitive threshold of her opulent body had ever been so besieged. Not even Douglas Bridges had overcome his own strict puritanical upbringing and explored his attractive wife's genitalia.
"N-no-ooooh b-but it-it's so sensitive, Doctor!" she gasped, turning her face to one side.
"Of course, dear lady. Now I'm going to explore the vagina. Do try to relax all your muscles. I'll try very hard not to give you any discomfort, though at first glance I see a very healthy organism," he said suavely as he reached for the speculum.
My goodness, I-I never dreamed it would be like this! He-he's looking into the most private parts of my body-not even Douglas ever did that-this shameless position I'm in, with my knees way up and spread. It-oh, it's just too embarrassing for words-oooh-I can feel the metal prying me apart-ohh dear, it-it's stretching me inside there-ohh gracious, it's the funniest sensationoooh, it-it tickles and I can feel the-the air, the cool air, inside me there-and his head's under the sheet and I know he's seeing everything I've got-oh my, M-Martha never told me it would be like this, I feel so funny, and I-I'm tickling all over and I feel sort of faint and-oooooh!
"There we are, all finished, Mrs. Bridges. Now, that wasn't too bad, was it?" He straightened, a benevolently solicitous look on his sophisticated, handsome face. Alma Bridges could only shake her head, still feeling her senses swirl around her.
"I see no irritation, and there's no trace of vaginismus. No, I think your husband's appraisal was not only erroneous but, if you'll pardon the personal comment, a spiteful slander. You certainly are not frigid."
"Ohh!-you-you're sure, D-Doctor?" she quavered, more and more embarrassed to feel the heat of her continuing blushes.
"Indeed I am, dear lady. I think for your own peace of mind, I ought to prove it to you-with your permission of course."
"I-I don't understand w-what you mean, D-
Doctor," she faltered.
"Now I must ask you a very intimate question, dear lady. Have you experienced regular orgasms with your husband?"
"Ohh! I-I don't really know-I mean, I never went to a doctor before and-" Alma Bridges' voice was faint and unsteady, for this question plunged her into a virtually unknown realm.
"To use the vernacular does he make you come?"
"Oh-I-I suppose so-but-" her voice trailed off and her breathing nervously quickened. She could feel the flesh of her inner thighs rippling and twitching, and she had the instinctive desire to clench her thighs. This magnetic stranger was prying into her very psyche, and the revelation was disturbing.
"You mean, he has his satisfaction and finishes making love, is that it?" his suave baritone voice summoned her back to embarrassing reality. She squirmed uneasily on the examining table, biting her lips till, in a very small voice, she managed, "II suppose that's it, D-Doctor."
"Very well, then, dear lady. What I propose to do is demonstrate to you that you are certainly not frigid and quite capable of achieving orgasm. You must believe me when I say that this demonstration is purely clinical. I wouldn't dream of intruding on your emotionally or otherwise, dear lady. I have your permission?"
Oh my what in the world is he going to do to me? But he's right, when Douglas m-makes I-love to me in bed, he just pushes in and out of me till he has-what Doctor Lorton called his sa-satisfaction, and that's all there is to it. I thought he was so romantic when we got married because he was the only man I had ever slept with. I guess maybe I've been missing a lotDouglas has a lot of nerve to call me frigid! Aloud, she stammered, "Y-yes, ifif you think it'll show you what's wrong with me, D-Doctor."
"I propose to have that there's nothing wrong, just as I said. Now then, close your eyes and just relax yourself completely. Pretend you're in another world," his voice was soft and soothing, and Alma Bridges quivered and shifted on the table. Then she felt his rubber-sheathed fingers begin to stroke her cuntal lips, his left forefinger gliding over the hidden button of her clit, while his right forefinger, daubed with the Y-K jelly, grazed the twitching petals of her pink soft vulva.
"Ohhh!! Ohh, D-Doctor!" she gasped, lifting her head, hear face scarlet.
"I don't mean to embarrass you, dear lady. I wouldn't do that for the world. Remember, this is purely in the interest of gynecological science."
"Y-yes-ahh-ouuuuu-ohh, it-it tickles, Doctor! Ohh my gracious, what are you d-doingooooh-ahh-oh my L-Lord-I never felt anything like that-ooouuahhhhh!! " Artfully, as he bagan to rub the gradually stiffening nodule of Alma Bridges' clit, his other forefinger pried open the thin pink lips of the vulva and gently inserted to the knuckle, remaining immobile as he concentrated on the manipulation of her clit. Her head fell back, then restlessly began to turn from side to side. Her eyes finally opened, very wide and humid, and fixed on the impersonal white calcimined ceiling above. But her dimpled, delightfully rounded, nylon-sheathed knees jerked involuntarily, and long spasmodic shivers began to race up and down her ripely curvaceous thighs. She could suddenly feel the constricting tightness of her bra as her tits swelled voluminously with an erratic, quickened rhythm, and her toes circled and twisted feverishly.
"I'm not hurting you, dear lady?"
"Oh no-oh-ahh-no, ohhhhh Doctor Lorton, it t-tickles-oh my, I've never felt anything like this before-ohhhh I can feel your finger way down inside-ouu-ahh-ohh my G-God-" she moaned as he slowly pressed his right forefinger as far as it would go and began to waggle it, rubbing the sensitive lining of her vaginal walls. Alma Bridges could no longer control the coonvulsive wigglings of her lusciously ripe hips nor the spasms that made the muscles of her calves and thighs flex violently. She put a hand over her eyes, the other arm crossed over her heaving tits, as she abandoned herself to the intense erotic bliss of being frigged.
"Don't fight it, dear lady. It's healthy and natural and, I fear, something you haven't encountered ofter enough in your married life," he murmured as he quickened his frigging of her clit and began to draw the other finger back and forth inside her palpitating, now wildly sensitized vulva.
"Uhh-oh my God Doctor-what's happening to m-I feel so faint-my-my heart's pounding soand I-I'm so hot between my l-legs-ohh, Doctor, oh my God-ahhh-ohh ohhhh I can't help it, oh I have to-ahhhhhhhhhh!! " Abandoning all restraint, the opulent dark-brown-haired matron threshed wildly about, arching her hips, then flattening her buttocks as she ground herself this way and that on the table. She was whimpering and sobbing as the gathering waves of hot molten cum began to surge up from the very depths of her womb, carrying all before them like a veritable tidal wave. Now her pelvic basin jerked up and down, emulating the rhythm of fucking to climax, hastening to reach the explosive, appeasing ecstasy she had never really attained before. Finally with a frantic wailing cry she sank back, sprawled and panting, almost swooning as her cuntal sheath seethed with turbulent cum.
As in a vague dream, she heard his suave voice murmur, "What a tragedy, dear lady, to be so well endowed with the capacity for passion and not to have it reciprocated. How unappreciative a man must be not to thrill to the responsibility of bringing you to the heights of passion!" And even as she felt her body tingle and shiver with the aftermath of this unknown rapture, she felt the gentle caress of his fingers, now bare, along her inner thighs for an instant. Then, almost impersonally, he said, "I would suggest, dear lady, that you make an appointment for next week, and perhaps I can suggest ways of salvaging your marriage."
CHAPTER TWO
"Was that big-assed bitch your new patient, lover?" Lucille Naughton purred as she took off her light cloth coat, hung it up on the rack in the reception room. She moved into Dr. Jason Lorton's private office, primping her honey-gold cap-style curls with a slim hand. She was five feet eight inches tall, willowy and vivacious. Her white nurse's uniform hugged her long svelte thighs and high-perched, closely set pear-shaped tits, tightly spaced, spacious oval cheeked behind. Though she wore white stockings and shoes, there was no asexual or antiseptic quality to her uniform. She radiated sensuality, especially with her cat-green eyes, the snub nose, small ripe moist mouth and high-set cheekbones. Twenty-six, she had been Dr. Jason Lorton's nurse-receptionist for three years and his mistress for just a year. He had, he often told himself, handled that situation very adroitly. Lucille had wanted to go to bed with him the very first week of her employment, but he had tactfully put her off till he was ready. And now, she was not only his invaluable aide in adding non-taxable profits to his rapidly growing vault deposits, but also his ardent fucking partner and invaluable in helping him score with many of his desirable patients.
"Do I detect a note of jealousy in your question, Lucille?" he chuckled as his hands palpated her superbly resilient, firm behind. Her arms linked round his neck and she nuzzled his cheek with her red moist mouth.
"You do, Jason darling. Was she? I met her coming out of the elevator, and she had that glazed look I recognize when a sexy patient pays you her first visit," Lucille Naughton teased in a soft husky voice.
"Martha Foster recommended me to her. The usual complaints. Her hubby thinks she's frigid, she's unhappy and at loose ends-"
"And you're going to waken her, Jason. Oh, well, if you like the type."
"Stop being so catty. I didn't fuck her, if that's what you're driving at."
"Mmmmm, I am," she purred, arching her loins to his and slyly rubbing like a cat in heat. "That means you saved it for me, didn't you, Jason? Well, I earned it."
"Before you get it, baby, suppose you tell me what happened at the Larrimore Clinic," he gently drew her arms down to her sides and held her wrists, smiling amusedly at the way she kept squirming her cunt against his already swollen prick.
"Oh, all right," Lucille Naughton sulkily murmured, drawing away from him and taking a folded sheet of paper out of the pocket of her white uniform. "The bill for Mrs. Jurgens to the state will show an EKG, blood tests, urinalysis, vaginal smear and Wasserman tests. Ditto for Mrs. Parkinson and Mrs. Trent. And Dr. Hoskins says the lab is very happy with the arrangement. You've given him four grand in February and nearly five last month. The way it's starting already, this might be the best month since we started with him."
"And you gave him the envelope and got a receipt, I assume?"
"Of course, lover," Lucille frowned. "Don't you trust me after all this time?"
Dr. Jason Lorton scowled, then moved to her and quickly slapped her face.
"Oh-oww! What was that for, damn you anyway," she gasped, recoiling and ruefully rubbing her flaming cheek.
"You're a very beautiful, brainy bitch, Lucille. But sometimes you let your cunt take over instead of your better judgment. Let me refresh your memory, going back three years."
"No, please, I-I'm sorry-let's forget I said anything-"
"Shut your mouth and listen carefully! When I hired you in St. Louis, you'd just been fired from a nursing home for dipping your pretty fingers into the petty cash till, and for playing around with a wealthy old fool you tried to blackmail into marrying you."
"But that's ancient history, darling! You know I've cooperated with you," Lucille was close to tears now as she reproachfully stared at him.
"Stop interrupting! I hired you, paid you a nice salary, and trained you to make money without getting involved or caught. Then I had my friend certify you."
"Y-yes, I did-oh, darling, why are you so mad at me? You know you want to fuck me-I can tell, you got so horny from that bitch who just left and you're mad because you need it! Here, let me make you happy, Jason."
Cajolingly, her voice a little-girl wheedling tone, Lucille sank down on her knees, pulled down his zipper. After hoisting his white medical gown and dropping it over her head, she took his prick between her lips and began to suck the bulbous glans delicately, her slim fingers tickling his balls and scrotum.
"All right. But you've got punisliment coming for being bitchy, Lucille. Then you'll get all the cock you want. Let up now, and get yourself ready," he said hoarsely as he pulled away from her, then doffed the robe. He stared cynically down at the crestfallen, longlegged blonde nurse.
With a little sob, Lucille Naughton rose, dragged her uniform over her head and shoulders and tossed it over the back of a chair. There she stood in white lycra pantygirdle and matching bra, the tabs hooking to the tops of her white stockings. Dr. Lorton made an impatient gesture, and Lucille, shivering voluptuously, hastily unhooked the gartertabs, then unfastened the clinging white sheath, stooped to tug it down, and to step out of it. In bra, white hose and shoes, she faced him contritely, holding her hands behind her back ritualistically, for this was not the first time she'd had to incur discipline before a fucking.
His eyes feasted on the crisp triangular darkblonde curly thatch of her pubis, which set off the crinkly pink labia of her enticing cunt. Her lovely long thighs were carnation-tinted with a satiny sheen. Dusky, pouting, firm tips of her saucy nipples thrust against the snug filmy bra.
"Get me the hairbrush and bring it in your teeth, bitch," he said softly with a sadistic smile of relish , and Lucille's green eyes apprehensively widened. "Oh please, not the hairbrush, just your hand, Jason darling," she gasped. "I'll be very good to you, you'll see. Please let me off this once-you know how it hurts me-"
Casually, standing with his rigid, swollen prick sticking out of his expensively tailored tweed trousers, Dr. Jason Lorton lit a cigarette and blew a smoke ring towards the ceiling. "If I have to repeat myself, bitch, you'll get doulbe," he gently repled. Lucille stifled a groan of dismay and, sinking back down onto her knees, crawled on all fours back to his desk, opened the bottom drawer, took out a black wooden hairbrush and, blinking her eyes to clear them of the tears, clamped .the handle with her strong white teeth. Then she crawled back to him and looked up apprehensively at his sardonic, handsome face and the savage rigidity of the now furiously swollen prick sticking out of his fly.
He reached down to take the hairbrush from her mouth, then demanded, "Now tell me what you want, Lucille. You know what to say!"
"Y-yes-oh-please-Doctor, g-give my bare ass a good hard sp-spanking with-with that hahairbrush-and-and-" she gulped and choked back sobs of distress as she saw his eyes narrow and glint. "And what else? Quick now, or you'll get a lot more," he warned.
"And-and then please b-bugger me hard, DDoctor," Lucille Naughton finished in a tremulous voice. Her face turned scarlet as she closed her eyes and shivered, her lovely back hollowing and rippling deliriously.
Dr. Jason Lorton seated himself on the chair, then nodded, and his almost naked blonde nurse-receptionist shamefacedly rose and draped herself over his lap. Reaching, she grasped the base of the chairlegs with her slim hands and closed her eyes as she submitted herself. Her spacious oval-shaped buttocks tightened and quivered lasciviously, and she clenched her long sleek thighs toghether tightly, as if modestly determined to conceal the bewitching pink gape of her cuntal lips. She dug the toes of her shoes down hard against the floor to balance herself, a maneuver which made the muscles of thighs and calves flex and ripple in the most titillating way.
Dr. Jason Lorton was in no hurry. Calmly laying the hairbrush bristle-side down on the exact middle of her quivering, upturned naked bottom, he proceeded to unfasten the bandeau catch of her bra and let it flutter to the floor. He clamped his left arm tightly round her supple carnatin-sheened waist, while Lucille moaned softly and squirmed uneasily, feeling his hot hard prick gouge against her lower belly. Next, warning her in a low, husky whisper not to date to drop the hairbrush, he leaned forward and with his right hand tucked down each white stocking to her slim ankles, thus baring her from nape to ankles. What an entrancing sight to see this mature, longlegged blonde beauty so provocatively exhibited in so juvenilely demeaning a pose over his lap!
Then, picking up the hairbrush, he admonished, "Try to stay in position till I've warmed your ass for the browning you just begged for, Lucille. And don't cover up either. Ready now?"
"Y-yes, D-Doctor," a hardly audible whisper floated up to him as she bowed her head down lower still and closed her eyes in preparation.
Slowly the hairbrush rose over her tightening bare ass-cheeks, hovered a prolonged moment till he heard her muffled gasp of dismayed suspense. With a mocking, sensual smile, he descended it in a swift arc, making a dry smacking intonation of smooth flat wood against the tautly resilient curve of her right bottomsummit.
"Oooooh!" Lucille gasped feverishly, working her slim fingers back and forth against the legs of the chair over which she was so ignominiously and nakedly draped. Her sensuous nostrils flickered and shrank, evidence of her emotional distress, but one which contained an avid sensuality. Dr. Jason Lorton had accurately diagnosed her temperament as being the outwardly haughty kind that secretly yearned, as does a true masochist, for forceful domination.
Smack! The other bottomsummit tasted the crisp, sonorous bite of the smoothbacked hairbrush, and he feasted his eyes on the two equally bright pink splotches inscribed on the mature blonde's pink-and-white-sheened naked flesh, accentuating the satiny smootliness of her upturned bottom all the more. A third spank, then a fourth, decorated each lower curve of Lucille's oval-cheeked squirming ass. Her fingers even more restlessly twisted round and round the legs of the spanking chair.
Two more spanks, at the tops of her svelte hips, left a delightful bright pink geometric design on the lush bottomovals, and by now Lucille was beginning to sniffle audibly and to glance back rather fearfully as again he lifted the hairbrush. Then, ignoring her plaints and controlling her wriggling maneuevers with the tightening of his left arm, he began to apply a quick barrage of sharply crisp spanks all over her naked ass. When he paused, Lucille was crying softly, and beginning to kick up one foot, then the other in obvious discomfort.
"Oh please, th-that's enough, Jason d-darling," she implored in a choked tremulous voice as he laid the bristled side down over the narrow shadowy crevice separating her now vividly crimsoned buttocks. "I-I'm sorry I was bitchy, honest I am, darling-oh please stop and do me-you know I need it so!"
His answer was to shift his right leg over her naked calves and to draw her closer to him with his left arm as he took up the brush, reversed it and applied the hardest, noisiest spank of all right over the sinuous cleft of her butt-cheeks.
"Oww! Ohh, that hurts, oh please, it hurts so!" Lucille burst into anguished sobs, twisting and weaving her flaming bare ass this way and that in aningenuous attempt to evade the mercilessly stinging hairbrush. But, deaf to her pleas and her entreaties to fuck or bugger her at once, for she was wild to be had, he methodically continued, spanking down the tops of her thighs and back up to her lewdly swerving bare hips, till at last he paused for breath. Lucille had plunged her hands back to protect her burning ass, and he had gripped both her wrists in his left hand to finish the spanking.
"There, maybe that'll teach you not to play games with our lab arrangment, Lucille," he hoarsely chided with a last hard spank that flattened the inner edges of her furiously reddened ass at the ripest curves and drew a strident wail from the frantically wriggling blonde nurse-receptionist. "Now, go get that jar of Vapo-Rub, lubricant that twitchy anus of yours, then pull this chair back up against the desk. Kneel on it and pull your buttocks shove the speculum inside and really ream youout!"
As he realeased her, Lucille, still fervently sobbing, painfully slipped off his lap and got to her feet. Furiously she rubbed her swollen, angrily reddened bare behind, heedless of the lubricious display of her quivering nakedness. With a cynical chuckle, he put his left forefinger into her cunt and palpated, then declared, "Hurry up, young lady, you know how wet and hot your cunt is, so con't pretend you don't want it badly!"
"Y-yes, lover, ooh, but please use K-Y jelly instead, the other'll burn just awfully," Lucille sobbed.
"You heard me! That's part of your punisliment for those flippant wisecracks about Mrs. Bridges," he retorted. "And that reminds me, when we're finished, you can just stay overtime and mail her a bill for professional services."
"Y-yes, D-Doctor," Lucille sniffled, still ruefully rubbing her burning ass. Her lush tits turbulently rose and fell and she shifted from foot to foot to ease the incendiary blaze in her ass and thighs. "H-how much should it be?"
"Let's see now. Hmm, well, I started her off on a new way of life, unless I'm very much mistaken. Tests for vaginismus, leuorrhea, and so on. Make it a flat hundred bucks. She'll be back, don't worry."
"I know, that's what I'm afraid of," Lucille sighed. Then, seeing him frown angrily she hastily amended, "I'll get the Vapo-Rub right now, lover. Oh please hurry and give it to me, I'm just dying to be fucked! I always am when you spank me so hard, darling, you know that."
Under his coldly level stare, the naked blonde nurse moved to the medicine cabinet and took out the jar and grimaced as she opened it. Thrusting a forefinger into the sticky yellowish contents she then bent forward and spread her long pink-sheened legs then gingerly reached back to daub the ointment against the puckering crinkly lips of her asshole. "Ooooh, it burns, ohh lover, it's just awful!" she shrilly announced, hurrying back to the desk and pulling the chair up with its back against the edge. Hastily kneeling down on it she reached back to pry open her swollen, angrily reddened buttocks. Looking around, tears dribbling down her flushed cheeks, she panted, "For Lord's sake, Jason darling, do it quick, ohh it's burning me up!"
Dr. Jason Lorton chuckled as he reached for the tube of K-Y jelly and slowly and deliberately annointed his rigid prick. The deep circumcisional groove set off the empurpled, tautskinned glans like a huge oblong mushroom, and Lucille's eyes widened with justifiable apprehension. Still holding her buttocks lewdly gaped apart, she squirmed feverishly on her knees as her masochistic passions mounted.
Moving slowly to her, he grasped her wriggling hips to steady her, and pressed his prickhead against the stickied, petulantly twitching orifice. He arched forward till at last the heavy glans slipped slowly in between the grudgingly yielding anal lips. Lucille Naughton's eyes rolled and she moaned ecstatically. "Ooooh, it stretches me so, and it burns. Ohh Jason, hurry, hurry, please frig my clit and make me cum, I need it so!"
His face a mask of taut concentration, as if he were performing a clinical examination, Dr. Jason Lorton did not deign to reply. Instead, his sinewy fingers pitilessly digging into her lithe, jerking hips, he forced himself slowly, inexorably into her bowels till he was buried to the hilt inside the convulsively clenching, shuddering walls of her rectal sheath. Lucille, uttering wordless, sobbing little cries, lifted her contorted face toward the ceiling, then bowed her head, her fingers digging into the back of the chair. Her eyes huge and very moist, her naked tits rising and falling with a jerkily erratic rhythm. Now he reached round her with his right hand, his forefinger searching out her well developed clitoris. Finding it, began to rub and roll it methodically without excessive pressure. At once, the naked blonde began to mewl and whimper, her hips to thresh and jerk back and forth as she tried to impale herself still more deeply on his imbedded, throbbing prick.
"Oooh-ahh-y-es-oh Jason lover-ahh oh it's so good-oh, harder, bugger my little bumhole harder, darling-ohh, yes, yes, rub my button harder, faster-oh-auuuuouuu God-ohh, it's heavenly-oh darling-oh I'm going-yesohhh-oh cum with me, Jason, oh my God, cum cum cummmmmm!! Eeeeeeeeahhhhouuu, darrrrling nowivww oh cum yes ahhhhhhh!! ! " her voice reached a frenzied sobbing crescendo as she felt his sudden violent hot jet burst inside her churning asshole. As she writhed in her paroxysm, he reached his left hand round to cup her tit and squeeze it possessively. He pressed tightly to her, reveling in the convulsive spasms which her anal walls applied to his ejaculating, still stiff prick.
"There now," he said huskily after a long moment, pulling out with a squishy "pop" that made her giggle in hysterical aftermath, "just remember, Lucille, no more snide jokes about my new patients and no tricks with those envelopes. Remember, you're the one who signs their billing sheets when you turn their split of the cash in. If you get too many big ideas, I can always turn you in at the Nurses Registry for getting your job here with a forged cerificate. Now tidy up and then get that bill out to Mrs. Bridges."
Lucille Naughton moaned softly with fulfillment as she slowly got down from the chair. Swaying a moment with enervation, her trembling lips wreathed in a smile of complete erotic appeasement. "Oh Jason," she purred, "I'll do anything for you, just anything, darling. I was only teasing-I wanted you to punish me good and love me up the wonderful way you do."
Dr. Jason Lorton dried his prick with a handkerchief which he tossed into the wastebasket. Then he stuffed his still turgid organ back into his fly, zipped it up, and calmly lit a cigarette. "Of course you did Lucille. Because women like you need men like me who know exactly what makes you tick. Just don't spoil it, that's all."
CHAPTER THREE
"We've got about an hour before Mom gets back, Bill honey," Phyllis Bridges excitedly whispered as she opened the kitchen door. Glancing nervously around to make sure none of the neighbors was watching she admitted a lanky, towheaded seventeen-year-old youth. Bill Carter was a senior and varsity wide receiver on the Dalgreen High football team.
Phyllis was sixteen years old and a junior at the same school. Though still a virgin she was finding her wakening adolescence a sensual torment. Both her father and her mother had arbitrarily vetoed any dates for their only daughter till after her graduation from high school. On this Friday afternoon, with her father out of town and her mother at Dr. Lorton's for a checkup, Phyllis was titillated by the risk of inviting the virile, skirtchasing senior into a house where there would be no chaperon.
Though less than half her neurotically frustrated mother's age, Phyllis Bridges knew a great deal more about sex. Admittedly, such knowledge was only theoretical. True, much of her information had been acquired from her best friends, Sue Randall and Margie Inniston, both only a few months older than herself. Sue, a petite bespectacled shy-looking young Venus, had actually "gone all the way" with the family chauffeur. Margie had had several dates with Bill Carter himself and excitedly reported that, while neither of them had "gone the limit," he was a real swinger who knew how to make a girl cum just by doing it with his finger or his mouth and tongue. Since Phyllis still regarded her maidenhead as a prize to be reserved for marriage, the highly sexed teenager had daringly resolved to put this unguarded afternoon to very thrilling use.
As she stole a covert glance at his rangy, tall body garbed in the blue sweater with white athletic letter, Phyllis told herself that she wasn't manstealing or anything like that, even if Bill had dated her friend Margie. After all, he'd come up to her yesterday afternoon as she was coming out of her last class and told her he'd like to date her some night. She'd said she'd think about it, wanting to play hard to get to make sure he was really interested. So, after finding out from her mom this morning that she'd be away till at least five-thirty, Phyllis had told Bill to come to the kitchen door right after school, and now here he was. She felt her soft cuntal lips twitch and moisten with anticipation, and she blushed hotly when he suddenly turned round to grin at her. "Now what's on your mind, sweet stuff?"
"Oh, you!" Phyllis Bridges gasped, her blushes deepening. Five feet four inches in height, her coppery-red hair parted at the middle and drawn back into a severe bun at the back, she exuded a sulky sensuality. Her pale-milky skin had a fascinating melange of tiny rosy flecks-the true redhead complexion-and tomboyish freckles. But it was her body which had most excited Bill Carter. Her hard, full round tits were set widely and boldly apart, and a slim waist flared into mouthwateringly ripe hips. Her upstandingly rounded, plump but deliriously springy-firm buttocks filled her skintight jeans and pressed into the crease between them.
"I can guess," he chuckled, taking her by the wrist and leading her down the hallway. "Which is your room, Red?"
"You've got nerve, I-I must say!" she tried unsuccessfully to sound highly indignant, but her voice trailed off into a nervous giggle. And as she submissively followed him, her heart was pounding wildly, while the tickling, moistening sensation at the crotch of her frail pink nylon panties grew almost maddening enough to scratch and rub.
"You got a cute pad, Red," he chuckled as he closed the door and let go of her wrist. "Now, how far do you wanna go? How much time we got?"
"Oh you!" she stamped her foot, making her ripe young tits jiggle against the tight sweater-blouse combination. "I told you, Mom'll be back around five-thirty. Anyhow, how do you know I want to go anywhere with you?"
He came to her, put his hands on her plump bottomcheeks as he pulled her up tightly against him, his mouth coming down hard on hers. Phyllis Bridges moaned, tried to push him away for a moment, then suddenly locked her arms round his shoulders and hung on for dear life. With eyes closed, shivering, arching on tiptoe, she parted her lips and darted out her pert pink tongue to goad him.
"Oh wow, kid, you've really got it bad," he panted when the French kiss ended, his hands still kneading and rubbing her jouncy buttocks. By now the teenager could feel the relentless prodding of his swollen prick through the fly of his cords, and her gray-green eyes were humid sparkling as she whispered, "I-I don't want to-you know-not everything-but-I'm so hot, Bill honey-can't we-you know-something that'll work me off? You know, honey."
"Tell you what," he whispered into her dainty ear, flicking his tongue tip around the lobe and making her squeal with erotic excitement, "I know you're cherry and I'm not a selfish guy, so I'll show you what sixty-nining is . . . you'll go for that, baby."
"W-what is it, B-Bill?" she quavered, pressing herself more tightly against him but closing her eyes as if to obliterate her own guilty knowledge of having invited a boy into the house to sex her up. Phyllis had never been spanked, but at this moment she suspected that if her mother came back home too soon, that ignominious juvenile treatment might well be her punisliment for this daring escapade.
"Now don't get scared, Red, I told you I wouldn't take your cherry-but one of these days you'll wish I had-I never saw such a cute chick so hot to trot as you are right now," he grinned, his hands coming up to squeeze the sides of her exuberantly swelling tits.
"Bill Carter, you're the nastiest boy-I-I don't know why I asked you over," she flared, reddening furiously and slapping his hands down as she stepped back.
"I do, Red. Now let's not waste time jawing. Start peeling," he directed as he began to shuck down his cords.
Phyllis Bridges put her hand to her mouth and stared at the huge bulge against his jockey shorts. It was the first time she had seen a male prick in full erection. Even though Margie had colorfully described the phenomenon, Phyllis was still not entirely prepared for its actuality.
Intercepting her hypnotically drawn gaze, he winked knowingly, "Seven inches, Red. But don't get scared, I told you I won't take your cherry. Now how about our peeling down some? We can't do it unless you do, you know."
"All-all right. B-but don't you dare look," she stammered, the effects of her puritancial upbringing coming to the fore even at this time of sexual crisis in her wakening young life. Turning her back to him, she pulled off the sweater, then unbuttoned the blouse with trembling fingers, dropped the two garments on a chair beside her dresser, then began to unfasten the tight jeans, first scuffing off her pushers. She wore pretty yellow anklet socks, as her solicitous mother hadn't permitted grownup nylons and garterbelt. That was a rankling annoyance for the lovely red-haired teenager, since both Sue and Margie wore those alluringly sophisticated items of provocative attire. Stooping, she shoved the jeans down with a gasp, thereby exhibiting to Bill Carter's appreciative eyes the enchanting symmetry of lusciously rounded thighs and tautly jutting buttocks snugged in pink cotton knit panties. His prick thrust even more savagely against his shorts by way of response to her ripe virgin charms.
She turned slowly to face him, her face scarlet, unconsciously squeezing her thighs together as if she intuitively sensed that her virgin cunt was now endangered. The matching pink bra with its tight narrow bandeau shaped out the juicy rounds of her brazenly thrusting tits and outlined the already well developed crinkly buds of her nipples set in surprisingly wide, dusky-pink aurolae.
"Zowie, have you ever got a sexy shape, Phyl girl!" he hoarsely commended the red-haired adolescent. "Now the panties, and you'll be all set for our game of sixty-nine."
"I-I'm scared-you-you promise you-you know-you won't go all the way? I don't want to get into trouble," Phyllis dubiously stammered in a hardly audible voice. By now her blushes had reached the lobes of her dainty little ears.
"Scout's honor. Look, baby, breaking a cherry is a messy business, and I'm not about to do it to you unless we both want it that way. Now do you want me to help you get your pants off, cutie?"
"Oh noo! I-I'll do it!" Phyllis was scandalized. Again she turned her back to him, tugged them slowly down, then let them fall and stepped out of them. What a delicious picture of ripening young pulchritude clad in only bra and anklet socks! The flesh of her bottom and thighs twitched and shrank at her awareness of being naked before a rampant young male for the very first time.
Once again, out of inhibited instinct, she swiftly clamped her right palm over the plump cuntal mound, furiously self-conscious of the luxuriant growth of dark-red curls which framed her virgin groove.
"Now let's get comfy on the bed, baby," Bill Carter huskily urged, pulling off his jockey shorts and letting the wide-eyed teenager see the dark-veined heavily swollen vigor of his aroused prick. The head seemed to elongate his actual measurements, set off by a wide shallow circumcisional groove which made it seem a separate, menacing entity all its own. Phyllis gasped and stared fascinatedly as she sank down on the edge of the bed, still shielding her cunt with an even more fearful hand. She huddled her lush young naked thighs as if she sensed they were in danger of being forced apart and her virginity besieged by that battering ram of a priapic weapon.
Oh my gosh, it-it's so huge! And to think Margie actually let him go all the way-I mean, poking that great big thing into her s-spot-it must have hurt awfully the first time-how could she stand it-
As if he had read her mind, Bill Carter seated himself beside her and, circling an arm round her waist, whispered, "No, Margie wasn't cherry when we did it, Red honey. I wouldn't have had her otherwise, get me? Now relax, I won't rape you. Just lie down and put a pillow under that sweet can of yours, and I'll show you how to have fun without losing your cherry, just like I promised."
"Oh gosh-I never knew that-you mean Margie-with some other guy?" the unexpected revelation startled the pretty, almost nude teenager into momentarily forgetting how brazenly she was reacting against her parental tenets of morality and propriety.
"Yor're a card," he chuckled, shaking his head, "who said guys were the only ones who gossiped about broads? But I guess she doesn't tell you everything, sweet stuff. And it's really none of your business. Anyhow, did you bring me over here to tell you about Margie's lovelif e or to get a start on your own? Here, Red, I'll get the pillow ready . . . there, now just wriggle that cute can over it and get ready for a real treat!" As he spoke he reached to the head of the bed and pulled the big fluffy pillow out to the middle, patted it and nodded to her. Crimson-faced, Phyllis drew her legs up and, putting her palms behind her, shifted herself over the thick pillow. Then, somewhat doubtfully she lay down, her eyes very wide and fixed on his bobbing, dark-veined, heavy prick.
"I'll let you in on one little secret, though, Red honey," he murmured as he moved on his knees to her feet and gently grapsed her ankles, "I didn't do to Margie what I'm gonna do to you. Anyhow, I wouldn't tell her, if I were you, sweet stuff."
"Ohhh, you-you awful boy you-of course I wouldn't tell Margie-what do you think I am?" she flared, turning redder than ever and still keeping her palm tightly pressed against her cunt. "Ooohwhat are you d-doing?"
He had suddenly spread her socks-sheathed ankles widely apart and, moving between her gaping bare legs, bowed his head down and kissed her satiny-smooth inner left thigh.
"Honey, take your hand away," he urged, "I promise I won't hurt you. Come on, you can't back down now, you don't want to be a cockteaser, do you?"
Though it was the first time Phyllis had heard that explicit, vulgar term, she divined its meaning, for her stifled gasp and intensifying blushes evidenced as much. Reluctantly, slowly, she drew her trembling hand away, then clenched both her fists and dug them into the covers of the bed, with the air of a courageous young martyr at the stake. Tightly she closed her eyes, as if ostrich-like, to give herself the illusion that this wasn't happening to her.
"What a gorgeous little pussy you've got, baby," he huskily muttered, "real eating pussy. Now hold still, this won't hurt!"
Phyllis uttered a squeal which mingled incredulity, frantic embarrassment and secret excitement. Her head rose, her eyes staring down at his bowed head. He had just pressed his lips lingeringly against the very center of her twitching young pink cuntal lips, and the most titillating sensation in her entire life had begun to see the inside of her untutored, ardent young loins.
Her socks-clad heels dug hard against the bedcovers as she felt his lips return, this time to the top of her gaping virgin slit, pressing against the secretive little outlet of the urethra. Then, making her gasp with almost frightened discovery of the shuddering spasm that pierced her, he touched the dainty little nodule of her clit. Phyllis had occasionally, in surrendering herself to adolescent dream-fantasies in which quite often Bill Carter himself prominently figured, experimentally palpated her own cunt. In her tentative essays at onanism she had brushed that highly sensitized lode-stone. But nothing had prepared her for the searing heat that began to throb and burn deep in her tender young cunt at his daring osculation.
"Ohhh-th-that's not nice!" she lamely stammered, twisting her blushing face to one side and closing her eyes, her fingernails digging into the covers, suddenly feeling wickedly shameless and wanting to clench her legs. But she at once felt his sinewy fingers on her lower thighs, restraining her from that reflexive act, and once again his mouth came down on her twitching cunt. This time it was a prolonged, noisily sucking wet kiss that made her jerk and wiggle her ripely rounded bottom in a movement not un-like that employed in the throes of an ardent, tightly cohesive fuck. "Ohhh, B-Billyou-you're just awful!" she breathed, scandalized not only at him but also at her own unexpectedly fierce pleasure in this mortifyingly intimate act.
"I'm gamming your pussy, Red, that's what I'm doing. Does it hurt?" he looked up, his face flushed, his eyes sparkling. Phyllis bit her lips as a hot wave of blushes suffused her cheeks and forehead, then whispered a tremulous "N-no."
"Okay, then quit complaining. Mmmmm, have you got a sweet, cute pussy-lots cuter than Margie'sbut if you dare tell her what I said, I'll paddle your tail raw," he pretended to scowl at her in mock-menace.
Oh my, he-he thinks I'm s-sexier than Margie! Oh this is just wild-golly, I just hope Mom doesn't get home earlier, she'd skin me alive! I feel so naughty and-and so hot between my legs-I never dreamed a boy would want to-to kiss a girl down there-but it tickles and it makes me feel so ssexy-if-if he wanted to-to take my ch-cherry now, I-I don't think I could stop him-and oh my goodness, is his big hard thing ever huge!
Again, just as if he had read the teenager's now feverishly disorganized thoughts, Bill Carter knelt up and matter-of-factedly began to cup his swollen prick in his left hand, while he glided his right palm over Phyllis' quivering satiny warm belly and lower abdomen, then down to her cunt which he gently and insistently caressed.
"Ohh-ohh-B-Bill-w-what are you ggonna do?" she huskily breathed, her eyes huge and humid as they fixed unwaveringly on the ferociously thrusting spear of his rigid prick. "You-you said you wouldn't do it-gee, I-I don't want you tonot-not the limit-you know-I mean, I-I do, only I might get into trouble-oh Bill, tell me whwhat you're gonna do!"
"Red, all I can say is, you better find yourself a steady guy and get that cherry of yours popped before much longer. No, I'm not going to be the one, I told you that. But a guy has to have his kicks too, you know, baby."
"Y-yes-" her eyes questioned him, virgin fear and naked adolescent yearning blending in their humid depths.
"That's why I said we'd do sixty-nine, see? Now, I'll show you what I mean, just you lie still there," he warned. He moved swiftly on his knees alongside her, then behind her, and Phyllis uttered a shocked gasp to find him straddling over her head, planting his palms down on either side of her trembling bare dimpled knees. Then once again fusing his lips against that dainty little hardening button hidden in it's little conch-shell of soft pink cuntal flesh, and this time, plucking it up between his lips and sucking it.
"Eeeek! Ooooh, B-Bill-oh Lordie, whatever are you doing-ooohh, I can't s-stand it! Ohh honey!" Phyllis squealed, arching up her knees and digging her heels into the rumpled bedcovers, while her soft little hands camped over her bra-sheathed tits as if to halt their turbulent, erratic heaving.
"I'm going to gam you till you cum, honey, that's what. Now, will you be a doll and do the same for me?"
"What-oh, ohhhh-your-t-thing-you-rrubbed it on my m-mouth-ugh-th-that's dirty, Bill Carter!" Phyllis indignantly spluttered, absolutely petrified as his heavy prick suddenly brushed her quivering lips with the bulbous, hot throbbing glans.
"No it's not, honey," he pleaded horsely, for by now his self-control was understandably beginning to wane. "Look, this way a guy and a chick can go off and get their kicks, and your cherry's safe and no problems, see? Anyhow, didn't I tell you this was special, that I didn't even do it to Margie?"
Oh Lordie, I never thought-oh gosh, he-he wants me to-to put it in my mouth--ugh-butbut he-he's kissing me down there, and after all, he could have-well, he could have raped me if he'd wanted to. He's awful nice and anyhow, he must think I'm special, not to have done it with Margie. I wonder what it'd be like? If-if I don't like it, I can always make him stop-what if Mom should come back? Oh, I'm so mixed up, but my-my pussythatthat's what he calls it-my pussy's so awfully hot, I just have to have him do something quick--
"You-you have to tell me what to do, B-Bill," she finally quavered, squirming uneasily as she felt his hot quick breath against the insides of her bare thighs. The tickling in her warm young wakening cunt was growing almost intolerable by now.
"Sure, doll!" he gratefully gasped. "Now, just open that cute sexy mouth, I'll slide just the tip in, and you start sucking a little and maybe rub your tongue over it, see?"
"Uh-uh huh," she faltered, squirming restlessly on the pillow. Bravely, because she knew she'd invited him specially to see just how far she could go and because she wanted him to do what he hadn't done to Margie, Phyllis opened her mouth and accepted the throbbing big glans of his swollen prick. Hesitantly she closed her lips and gauging the shape of the heavy spearhead she tentatively prodded the tip of her dainty tongue against the twitching lips of the meatus.
"Ohh baby, that's terrific, just keep on like that," he exulted. "Now I'm really gonna sendja!" And with this, Bill Carter slipped his hands under her quivering satiny kneehollows, and pulled her knees back up towards her panting round firm young tits.
"Ohh-wh-what you, you d-doing, Bill hhoney?" she anxiously gasped, opening her eyes and then blushing violently to see her pink cuntal lips so lubriciously gaped as he pressed her knees back against her tits and gripped them firmly.
"I told you what, now you get busy on my cock, baby," he panted. Bending down his head, he now furled out his tongue and glided it over the soft petulant lips of her maiden vulva.
"Ohhhh Bill, it t-tickles so-ooooh, honey!" Phyllis Bridges gasped, unable to restrain the convulsive jerk of her velvety naked hips. Her toes curled and twisted feverishly in the snug anklet socks. She had never before experienced such tantalizing, overpowering sensations. The lips of her dainty crinkly pink butt hole contracted spasmodically as he prodded her clit with the tip of his tongue. In this doubled-back pose, the erotic stimuli that tickled and burned and throbbed now seemed to be furiously intensified.
"There now, am I hurting you, Red baby?" he panted.
"Umm-no-ohh h-honey-ohhh, you-you're driving me crazy-ohh, is this-this w-what you call s-sixty-nine?"
"Uh huh, baby. That's a French expression, see? It means your body and mine are shaped sort of like that figure when we do this," he edified the excited young, almost nude, teenager. "Now get to work on my cock and let's see if we can't cum at the same time, Phyl sweetie!"
He edged his prickhead back against her panting lips, and Phyllis, uttering a muffled little gasp at his male assertiveness. Nuzzling the angrily swollen head between her quivering lips, she flicked the tip of her tongue against its velvety-taut surfaces. Her eyes widened, glazed and stricken with a look of incredulous delight. His tongue was now probing all over her uptilted, yawning cuntal groove, exploring the urethral fissure, her tingling clit, then rimming the quivering lips of her vulva and finally delving between to emulate the action of a prick. Phyllis moaned and squirmed restlessly as wave upon wave of thrilling, hot, lascivious sensations built slowly inside her hitherto untutored young cuntal sheath and drew her towards a giddy excitement which swept aside her remaining misgivings over the naughtiness of this forbidden tryst.
Whimpering with pleasure, she lost her fear of the virile young male who was procuring such spicy thrills for her tender virgin cunt. She clung her panting lips to the fulminating head of his throbbing prick, till her sucking noises grew noisier and wetter. Her tongue slushed back and forth against the gnarled tight skinned structure of the shaft. Ecstatic over her deliciously naive cooperation, Bill Carter had arched himself to press another inch or two of his aching cock into the warm moist cavern of her lovely mouth. Phyllis' eyes bulged as she adapted herself to this demanding instrusion. Now he was sucking her vulva with long wet lingering kisses, then slushing his tongue more rapidly all over the quaking rims, then rubbing her stiffened clit back and forth. Soon she could no longer control the frantic, sporadic kicks of her feet nor the jerky threshings of her naked hips over the rumpled pillow. Her firm round tits heaved wildly up to be flattened by her forced-back knees as his steely fingers compelled her to retain this lubricious pose. But by now, Phyllis Bridges was beyond caring how immodestly she was behaving, even beyond thinking of the danger of her mother's earlier return.
"Mmmmm-ahh-ouu B-Bill-oh Lordie, it's so lovely-ahh-ohh, honey, I-I'm just going crazy," she gasped, as his pricktip slid back and forth against her chattering teeth, rubbing her lips. Then, after confiding her delight, she gratefully seized his bobbing prick and drew it back into her gasping mouth, sucking avidly now. Rubbing her tongue feverishly against the head and the circumcisional groove, she tried to reciprocate for the indescribable, tantalizing bliss his lips and tongue were procuring for her now furiously aroused young cunt.
"Ohh baby, are you terrific! That's the way, I'm gonna cum pretty soon-are you getting close, Red, hu ? " he gasped.
"I-I think so-ooohh, just keep on doing what you're doing now," she moaned as his tongue dug her clit back into its hiding place, then let it spring back up, throbbing and hardened, wildly sensitized. Her legs kicked jerkily above his bowed back, her hips squirmed and writhed, and sobbing little wordless moans exuded from her as she accelerated her sucking, tongue-flicking ministrations to his bulging prick.
Bill Carter groaned, grinding his teeth as he strove to hold back to the very last, the maddened impulse to burst inside the teenager's clinging lips. The prodding of her velvety tongue was an agonizing goad, and to distract himself, he dug his own tongue between the twitching lips of her vulva, gouging inside as far as he could go.
Phyllis Bridges uttered a piercing shriek of inchoate, frenzied ecstasy, her eyes widening and glassy. Her hands reached up to grip his straining thighs, and her loins writhed and arched, mashing her soft quaking cunt against his panting mouth. She felt a hot sticky tide churn and swirl deep within her cuntal groove, and at the same instant, with a bellow of rapture, Bill Carter inundated her panting mouth with his thick, viscous spurt.
Ahhhh he-he wentoffin my mouth-oooh. It's so hot and thick and sticky-ugh-I-I have to swallow-ohh, I'm going to faint. I never felt so excited in all my life. Ohhhhh how much hes-shotinto me-it's a good thing it wasn't in my p-pussy, or I'd be pregnant for sure-oh my, I can't keep my b-bottom still, I'm wiggling like crazy-ouuuuuu, I just want to float off into outer space-ugh, there. . . I . . . I swallowed it all. . . oh my gosh, I never knew a m-man had so much in him when-when he did itI-I'm still a v-virgin, so Mom doesn't have to worry-but, mmmm, it was just terrific-I-I've just got to get him or somebody nice like him to-to go all the way with me, this is such fun!
He slowly straightened and crawled off the trembling, half-fainting teenager. "Baby, you're something else," he hoarsely praised her.
Phyllis Bridges lay sprawled, one knee up, an arm over her flushed face. "W-what time is it, Bill honey?" she huskily murmured, her body still twitching in aftermath.
He glanced at his wristwatch. "Nearly quarter of five, baby."
"Oh, God!" she sat up, eyes wide with alarm. "You better leave, Mom's-likely to come back any minute. Go out the way you came in, hm? Oh, honey, it was just wonderful though!"
"You-you aren't sore 'cause I did it in your mouth? I didn't mean to, but got so excited when that sexy tongue of yours got to work," he solicitously murmured, kissing the top of her head and roaming his hands over her warm satiny back.
"Uh uh," she blushed and looked away selfconsciously. "Only please hurry. See you in school. Maybe-maybe some time-you know-we can go all the way, if you're awful careful-"
He hastily dressed, greedily studying her delicious half-nude body. Her face flaming as she realized his scrutiny, Phyllis once again put a hand against her moist cunt. "See you round, baby," he grinned as he left her room. Phyllis Bridges sighed raptly, then giggled, swung her legs down from the bed, and hurriedly began to put her panties, blouse and jeans jack on.
Ten minutes later, she heard the key turn in the front-door lock and hurried down to meet her mother.
Alma Bridges's wistful, heartshaped face was soft and relaxed, with a dreamy expression in her hazel eyes. "Oh, hi, darling, how was school?" she asked, looking nervously around as she set her purse down on the hallway table.
"Fine, Mom. How was the new doctor?"
Alma Bridges sighed, then turned to look at her red-haired daughter. Then she frowned. "Honey, you look flushed-have you got a fever or something?" she anxiously inquired.
"Oh no, I'm fine, Mom." Under her mother's suddenly attentive gaze, Phyllis couldn't help blushing and shivering a little too, when she thought of what a near escape she'd just had.
"I hope not," Alma Bridges sighed again. "You know, it wouldn't do you any harm at all to have a checkup from Dr. Lorton. He's a very capable man, and after all, dear, you're sixteen and old enough to-well, I want to be sure my little girl is perfectly healthy and everything. It-it won't be long before you're a woman."
"Okay, Mom, if you want me to, I suppose I can go see him. Want me to help start supper?" Gosh, if Mom only knew I practically got to be a woman just a little while ago, I-I wonder what she'd say or do?
CHAPTER FOUR
Fate was conspiring this very same Friday afternoon to alter the staid, prosiac life of Douglas Bridges, Alma's 42-year-old husband. Five feet eleven inches in height, with dark-brown short-cropped hair, glasses, regular features and firm, rugged jawline. Douglas Bridges had come up to his executive post with the sales engineering firm the hard way.
First of all, he had been an orphan, adopted by a foster family when he was three and upreared by them till he had finished high school. Their death in an automobile accident had found him at seventeen fearful of becoming a ward of the state. Husky and intelligent for his age, he'd lied about it, enlisted and risen to the rank of sergeant during the Korean War. After that, his G.I. benefits had given him the chance to finish business college and be offered a beginner's job with the firm who now employed him as vice president. In a capsule, his life had been one of hard work, purposeful ambition and eventual material success. On the other side of the picture, however, his sex life had been virtually nil. His foster parents had been good, kindly people, but bigoted on the subject of sex. To them, sex was for procreation only, and anything else was "unnatural and deviate."
The result had been the usual battle between secret physical lust and strict moral code to which a fair dosage of guilt and fear had been added. While some of his senior classmates in high school had celebrated their graduation by going to a cathouse, Douglas Bridges shamefacedly paid his way into a burlesque-again lying about his age-to see his first naked female. He then went home and jacked off as he pretended she was lying beside him.
Only once before his marriage to Alma, who he met as a part-time receptionist for the firm where he worked, did he have a single successful coital experience. It was the evening after his graduation from business school and the acceptance of the offer to work as a sales trainee for Amerland Sales Engineering Consultants. Douglas Bridges had treated himself to dinner in a fashionable restaurant, indulged in a bottle of wine, and then, on the curb signalling a cab, found himself next to a strikingly attractive and mature auburn-haired woman who wanted the same cab. Gallantly, he offered to share it, and to his amazement, the woman invited him up for a nightcap when they reached her apartment. The euphoric mood of the dinner and the wine led him to accept.
She was, she told him, a divorcee and owner of a beauty shop. She candidly told him that she employed several male operators in the shop, all of whom were gay and that he looked like a real man to her.
The next thing Douglas Bridges knew, he was being very skillfully undressed, his stiffening prick gently cupped in the divorcee's soft palm. In a daze he followed her to her huge double bed. With her guidance, he lost his male virginity and discovered also that she was totally uninhibited and generously candid as a bed partner. To revive his flagging manhood after two violent bouts of fucking, she started him to stupefaction by bowing her head, taking his prick in her mouth and sucking him back to potency.
Not long after that, Douglas Bridges fell in love with Alma, asked her to marry him, and that, to date was the total amount of his sexual life. If he had flared up enough to call her frigid-as Alma had tearfully complained to Dr. Jason Lorton this Friday afternoon-it was because, back in the recessed of his mind, forced back there by his puritanical guilt, he wanted to forget how shamelessly both he and the divorcee had behaved on such short acquaintance. Alma's passive sub-missiveness had for once goaded him into recalling how one magical night a woman had fondled and sucked his prick.
He had, like so many other young men before him, been trained to believe that a "decent girl" never takes the initiative and surely never fingers or mouths the male prick. Yet as the years went on with their unimaginative domesticity, the recollection of that one night of uninhibited lust returned to haunt him with the memory of what might have been.
He had wound up a presentation to the operations chief of Lockair Tool Corporation this Friday afternoon, then enjoyed dinner at Peoria's famous railroad-train restaurant Vonnachen's. Since the evening was unseasonably warm he decided to take a stroll before going back to his hotel.
As he turned onto Lynn Street off Foster Avenue, he found himself a few blocks off the freeway and on quiet, isolated residential area. Several of the street lights were out, and the darkness was ominous. Midway down the block, to his left, was a vacant lot with a rotting billboard which obscured most of its frontage. As he neared it from across the street, he heard a stifled cry, then the angry mutterings of several male voices, the sound of a slap, and then a shrill "Oh please, help me-ahhmff!" as the woman's cry was cut off.
Douglas Bridges was not particularly a hero, but he had an old-fashioned romantic chivalry which was part of his puritanical heritage. Though his only weapon was a small penknife, he ran across the street and around the side of the billboard, in time to see two men dragging a young woman towards a car parked in the alley with its motor running.
"Police! Let the girl alone!" he bellowed out. The element of surprise was in his favor. The two men released the struggling, kicking young woman, hurried to the car, and drove off with a squeal of quickly released brakes.
He hurried toward the young woman, who had fallen to the ground and was painfully trying to rise. "Here, Miss, let me help you," he said solicitously as he stooped down to grasp her by the armpits and lift her to her feet.
"G-gosh-t-thanks-you just about saved my life, Mister," she gasped, swaying against him and drawing a deep, unsteady breath. She was slim, slightly more than medium height, her light-brown hair coiffed in little ringlets all along the top of a high arching forehead. Her face oval-shaped and sensitive with a firm deeply cleft little chin, soft tremulous ripe mouth, and there was an angry red splotch on her cheek where she had been slapped. She wore a light tan cloth coat, and he could see her slim long legs were sheathed in beige nylons and her feet shod in open-toe high-heeled sandals.
"Can I take you anywhere, Miss? My name's Douglas Bridges, and I'm from Chicago, here on business."
"You-you're awfully nice, Mr. B-Bridges. But I don't want to worry you with my problems-youyou did enough already for me."
"Did you know those men?"
"Y-yes-well, I guess there's no need to beat around the bush. I-I'm a hooker, Mr. Bridges, a pretty good one, if I do say so myself. Only, well, I've been in the life two years, strictly on my own, you understand. My folks died just before that and there wasn't any money. All I could get was a file clerk job that didn't pay much. So-well, I started-you know-having dates once in a while. Then I lost my job six months ago, so I had to, well, work at this to keep alive. Only those guys wanted me to work in a house they owned. I wasn't having any, so-so they were going to take me there, they said, and beat me up till I said yes. Then you came along, and I'm awfully glad you did," she finished breathlessly.
"Maybe you'd like a cup of coffee and something to eat. I was just out for a walk. We could go back to my hotel," he faltered, suddenly embarrassed at being involved in this attractive young woman's problems. At the same time, for all his moral scruples, Douglas Bridges was beginning to experience sexual titillation from her soft husky voice and lovely face and the way she had trustingly clung to him for a moment when he had lifted her up.
"I-I've got a little flat not far from here, Mr. Bridges. Why don't we go there?" she suggested.
"All-all right, if you like. I want to be sure you get home safely, anyway."
"You're awfully nice. By the way, I'm Veronica Shelby. Believe it or not, that's my real name. Most folks called me Ronnie, though," she confided as she slipped her arm through his and smiled up at him. "It's down this street, then three blocks West-if you're sure you don't mind?"
Ten minutes later, he was sipping coffee in the kitchen of a shabbily furnished studio apartment in a rundown six-flat building. Veronica Shelby had excused herself after heating his coffee, and returned a few minutes later in a pretty, clinging long blue crepe hostess gown with short puffed sleeves. His face flushed as he caught himself looking at her tits, perky, wide-spaced pear shaped globes that thrust boldly out against the thin fabric and more than suggested that she wore no bra. Her lithe, beautifully modeled bare arms were carnation-sheened, and there was a darkening bruise on her cheek from the slap.
"I wish I could get to Chicago," she said wistfully as she puffed at her cigarette. "Maybe I could get a decent job there and get out of this business. I was pretty good on my job, except there wasn't much to do except file things and type a little-I can do eighty-five words a minute."
"Maybe I can help, Miss Shelby. My firm employs a lot of girls in filing and clerical work."
"Oh, would you? That'd be just wonderful, Mr. Bridges!" Then she flushed demurely, lowered her large, limpid hazel eyes. "Only, I don't suppose any-body'd want to hire a hooker."
"You wouldn't have to tell them that, of course," he said, almost angrily.
"You-you mean, you-you'd recommend me, and you don't know anything about me except what I told you? Gosh, you-you're awfully nice, Mr. Bridges. And you know something else? I'll bet you're married-the nicest guys always are."
"Y-yes, I am, and I've got a sixteen-year-old daughter."
"My goodness," she giggled, "you don't look that old at all." Then her face grew serious and she eyed him steadily. "You know, I haven't really thanked you for what you did."
"It was only what any lawbiding citizen would have done," he mumbled awkwardly.
"Oh no, it wasn't! And you were so brave-you didn't know if they had guns or knives or anything. You just came charging in. I think it was just wonderful." She moved from her chair to stand beside him, then felinely slipped down onto his lap, linking a smooth warm arm round his neck. "Just wonderful," she whispered, and then her soft ripe red lips suddenly pressed lingeringly against his.
Douglas Bridges started, his eyes widening. He felt his prick swell and ache at the feel of her jouncy bottom against his lap, and this time he was certain Veronica Shelby was wearing nothing under the thin hostess gown. The springy resilience of her behind told him that as did his almost defensive reaction when she had sat down on his lap, putting up his hand and accidentally brushing it against one of her firm pear-tits.
"M-Miss Shelby-Veronica-you don't have to-" he hoarsely began.
"Shh, you big silly! I want to, you hear? Anyhow, you don't have to worry-I'm clean, I go to the doctor every week, and besides, I-I haven't been with anyone for nearly a week. Even before tonightwell, I was thinking I ought to get out of this dead town and see if I couldn't find a decent job. Please, I-I want to-you're so nice and-and handsome, and you said you were going to help me. Just this once, you can forget you're married, can't you, Mr. Bridges?"
"I-Veronica-I-" he spluttered, very red in the face, his senses reeling at the scent of her perfume, the warm moist promise of her lips, the feel of her gently squirming bottom over his by now ferociously rigid prick. He was thinking suddenly of Alma and how he had flared up that night, and now, even more fiercely, there returned the vivid images of his one uninhibited night with the divorcee.
Besides, she was making the decision for him now, her supple fingers unbuttoning his suitcoat, then loosening his tie, unfastening the top buttons of his shirt. Her arm was still linked round his neck, and she paused from time to time to brush his quivering mouth with hers. A flirtatious little smile made her charming face suddenly impish and wanton.
"Come on, honey," she murmured, "let's go to bed where we can be lots more comfy," She slithered off his lap, took his hand and pulled him unresistingly from the chair. "Oooh, I know you want me, I can see already!" He glanced down at himself, and blushed like a schoolboy caught in the act. His prick thrust savagely out against the crotch of his neatly pressed trousers. The young hooker knelt down and, swiftly tugging down his zipper and slipped her soft slim fingers into his trousers. Unfastening his shorts she drew out a commendably broad, throbbing, dark-veined prick with plum-shaped head set off by a narrow, deep circumcisional groove, the lips of which were already twitching in frantic sensuality. "Oh my goodness, lover, I just have to take care of this big boy, may I?" she huskily cajoled, looking up at him with humid, dilated eyes.
Douglas Bridges' strict moral code, wavered violently. He tried to speak, but couldn't. All the world had suddenly come down to this rather shabby but comfortable room with a big double bed and to this deliciously complaisant young woman kneeling before him cuddling his prick in the soft scented hollow of her hand. He was faced with the knowledge that bed with Alma had been unexciting for more years than he cared to remember. Besides, Veronica Shelby was taking his silence for consent. Dipping her head quickly, she implanted a long sucking kiss on the velvety-taut tip of his prick, drawing a groan of tormented ecstasy from Alma's dazed husband.
"Now let's get all your clothes off and then we can be real nice and comfy in bed, Doug lover," she breathed. Archly she looked up at him and giving his bulging shaft a tantalizing little squeeze with her soft palm as she rose to her feet, tugged down the zipper of the hostess gown, and wriggled out of it to stand alluringly naked in her high-heeled sandals. "like me?"
"Oh my God, y-yes!" he groaned. By now whatever mental hesitation still lingered in his mind was no match for the furious goading of his aching prick as he stared at Veronica Shelby's enticing nakedness. Her waist was slim, her hips almost boyishly svelte, but the long, agilely muscled thighs rippled with a vitality that promised crushing enlacement in the bed of fucking. And what most disconcerted him was that she had depilated her cuntal muff. Bewitchingly lewd and inviting, the pink crinkly, flesh petals of the culva and the tantalizing cleft of the urethra with its now very visible little clitoridal nodule were exposed. For the first time in his mature life, Douglas Bridges really saw a young woman's appetizing, alluring soft pink cunt.
His balls shudderingly contracted at the sight, and his eyes fixedly, glazedly, stared at that novel, exquisite aperture. Veronica giggled softly, pleased with his reaction, and then took matters literally into her own hands by helping him strip down to just his socks. "There, lover, now we can take our time and have lots of fun," she murmured,sitting on the edge of the big double bed, swinging her legs up and patting the bed to urge him to join her. "You just stretch out and let little Ronnie do all the work. I give pretty fair massages too, you know," she playfully confided.
Douglas Bridges' face was flushed and he was trying not to look too stern even though what was taking place completely upset his sexual rulebook. He stretched out on his back and eyed the lovely naked hustler. He noted that her buttocks were jouncy ovals, set closely together with the shadowy crease broadening slightly at the base. He looked nervously over at the night table lamp, and Veronica Shelby intercepted that glance. "Aw, honey, leave it on," she huskily urged, rubbing one satiny calf against his bare leg. "You're a well put together fellow, and anyhow, I like to see what's happening when I'm with a guy I'm especially fond of."
It would have been churlish to refuse this charmingly concocted request, and so another iron-clad rule in his code of how to behave while fucking went swiftly down the drain. And when she turned onto her side, one soft hand gently stroking his leg upwards from the knee till she had reached his inner thigh. Her soft moist lips fastened on one of his paps and began to apply tiny, teasing little sucking kisses to it, while his tingling flesh felt the satiny-warm friction of her dangling tit as her body angled to him. Alma's dogmatically prudish husband began to view the female in an entirely different light.
But Veronica sensed his holding back and what motivated it with an uncanny intuition for her comparatively tender years. She looked up at him almost reproachfully, as she murmured, "You poor darling, don't you ever let yourself go? You're up so tight, honey. I told you to relax while I get you ready. Or maybe it's because I'm a hooker that you can't get hot for me?"
He turned crimson at this. "No-of course not, Veronica, that's not it." Then, as she continued to eye him, a coaxing little smile on her soft red lips, he haltingly admitted, "I-well, this is the first time I've ever cheated on my wife, and I guess maybe it does tie me up in knots."
She glided her hand up to his still stiff prick, cupped it tenderly. "Your cock wants my pussy, lover, you know it does. So tonight I want you to let that nice big hard cock of yours do all the thinking for you. Now, I know it's none of my business, but tell me-I'm sure your wife's a wonderful woman, but she doesn't act like this in bed with you, does she?"
"N-no. I guess that's maybe what it is, Veronica. I suppose I figured a decent woman-hey, I didn't mean that the way it sounded-"
"Go right ahead, I know what you mean, honey, you didn't offend me," she giggled, giving his prick an encouraging little squeeze.
"Well, what I meant was, I knew wives aren't trained to act like hookers in bed, and sometimes a guy's afraid to ask his wife to do something-you know-" he floundered, red-faced.
"Now you just listen to me, honey." She snuggled closer on her side, her slim hand stroking his belly and inner thigh, till his flesh began to crawl and tingle with an overpowering lust. "There isn't a woman alive, especially if she's married to a nice guy like you, who once in a while, deep down inside, doesn't want her guy to rough her up a little and make her try new tricks. I don't mean be cruel to her or beat her up or anything like that, but just be a man and make her know who's boss. So tonight you and I are just going to pretend that everything goes, and I want you to try everything you always thought about, and I will too. Will you promise me that? That way, darling, it makes sex fun, and in my book that's what it's supposed to be."
Douglas Bridges nodded almost sheepishly, his eyes devouring the lithe, vital naked body beside him. He reached out to cup her dangling pear-tit and squeeze it lingeringly. Then, boldly for him, extended his other forefinger towards the brazen pink soft bareness of her depliated, tempting cunt.
"Mmmmm, that's nice, Doug honey.. . go ahead, feel me up all you want. We've got oodles of time. You've got me so hot and sexy 'cause of what you did to keep those bums from beating me up, I can't stop your doing anything you want," her husky, soft voice intimated maddening delights without restraint.
Then, sinuously, felinely, Veronica stretched out over him, her left arm under his shoulders, her right hand taking hold of his heavy, swollen prick at the middle of the gnarled, taut-skinned shaft, as she doubled it back against his belly. Her soft red lips merged on his, her tongue flicking at his lips. As he opened them, startled at so lascivious a kiss, she foraged it deeply into his mouth. Her firm pear-tits flattened deliciously against his chest as his arms came up to lock her to him. The thrilling soft warm fragrant nakedness of her intoxicated him, and every cranny of his body seemed to come alive, potently as in the days of his hungry thwarted adolescence. His hands roamed her deeply hollowed smooth back, reaching down to squeeze the tightly spaced, jouncy ovals of her bottom. Veronica signed raptly, "Mmmmm, I like that, lover! Oh, are we ever going to have ourselves a night, Doug darling!"
Then again her tongue delved between his lips, and her quick warm breath fanned his face. Her right thumb and forefinger began to apply tiny little pinches to his aching prick from scrotum to tip and back again, till he was half-crazy with the savage lust that swirled through his balls and made them contract spasmodically. Now, inspired by her delicious abandon, he found himself thrusting his tongue into her warm sweet-nectared mouth, and her gugling little moan of pleasurable acquiescence sent new waves of hot rut surging through his tortured, throbbing prick. So violent was this new onslaught of lust-sensation that he suddenly twisted his congested face away and hoarsely panted, "R-Ronnie, if you keep that up, I-I'll lose it!"
"So lose it, get your edge off, darling. Then you can take your sweet time loving me up. Don't worry, Mamma'll work that great big cock up again when she needs it, you leave that to me, you hear, Doug darling?" she teasingly purred. She wiggled over him till the soft friction of her thighs and belly made him grind his teeth to hold back the bubbling jism that threatened to burst out then and there. Slyly, her thumb and forefinger clamped the throbbing glans of his rigid prick to help hold the deluge back, as she bent her head and began to flick her tongue in tiny, quick little goading stabs at his paps and chest.
"Don't hold it back, honey, let yourself go all out, remember what I told you," Veronica whispered, flicking her tongue tip into his ear, as she began to wriggle her satiny naked body slowly from side to side over him, continuing to apply rapid little squeezes to the aching glans of his frantically throbbing prick. "I'm going to make you set a record tonight, watch and see. Mmmmm, do I ever feel randy, and it's all 'cause of your being so brave and saving me!"
His hands explored the resilient, quivering warm flesh of her jouncy oval butt, and Veronica tantalizingly made her gluteal muscles tighten and relax to prove her own eager arousal. Suddenly, without warning, she drew her left arm out from under his shoulders, thrust it down between their bodies and with thumb and forefinger gaped wide the dainty pink vulva lips as her other hand drew his prick unerringly to that inviting gape. Her mouth hot and wet on his, she squirmed lasciviously. She first playfully rubbed his prickhead over the urethral outlet and the dainty nub of her clit, then at last forced it into her eager sheath and shoved herself down. Her warm smooth belly smacked lewdly against his to signal their cohesion.
"Oh my God, Ronnie, ohhh it's so damn good!" Douglas Bridges fervently groaned, digging his fingertips hard into her jouncy bare ass and clamping his legs over her sinuous calves to pinion her to this, the most exciting fuck he'd had in longer than he could remember. Not ever with Alma, though.
The wry thought of her placid surrenders flashed through his mind but only for an instant. All the world that mattered right now was the four walls that enclosed this comfortable wide bed and the feel of the young hustler's wriggling bare tits and belly and legs over his shuddering frame. What mattered most of all the tight convulsive clampings her moist cuntal sheath was inflicting on his maddeningly beleagured prick.
The fingertips of her right hand delicately tickled his straining balls as, slipping her left arm under his shoulders again, Veronica merged her mouth on his. She began to arch herself, then sink down, showing him how an ardent, aggressive female could take the initiative in fucking to procure intense pleasure for them both.
He felt his tongue rubbed by hers, and galvanizing currents of lust seethed through him as Veronica worked her lithe naked body up and down. Her humid, clenching cuntal walls inflicted delicious kissings and nipping against his tortured prick. His senses reeled. There was no room for thought, only sensation, and with a cry of delight, he felt himself burst inside her twitching, tightening soft cunt.
"Ooooh, honey, put it all to me, don't hold it back, all of it, lover!" Veronica squealed, wriggling feverishly as she hastened her own approach to glowing cum. "Stick your finger up my butt hole, darling, that'll make me cum, hurry, ohh, how I need it, Doug lover!" she exhorted.
Shuddering from the thrilling aftermath, Douglas Bridges groped his right forefinger towards the sinuous crease between the naked hustler's squirming bottom ovals, then pried it against the petulant, crinkly petals of her anus, delving it deep and twisting it about. "Ooooh, yes, yes, harder, deeper into me there, lover-ohh, yes, ahh-ohhhh, Doug honey. I'm cummmmmming!" Veronica moaned as she ground herself against him, her body threshing in the throes of furious cum.
At length she wriggled off with a sigh of pleasure, and murmured, "You just stay there, honey, I'll tidy, us both up and then we can go right on having fun."
Douglas Bridges was trembling now, feeling his senses float off into outer space, totally at peace with the world, and eager to feel his cock restored and once again thrust home into that tight warm cunt. Veronica came back with a warm wet hand-towel with which she sponged his prick. Then she snuggled beside him, reaching under one of the pillows to take out a phallic-shaped battery-operated vibrator.
"Now I'm going to make you big and hard again, darling," she promised as she flicked on the vibrator and knelt astride him, facing his loins. Cuddling his dwindled prick with her left hand, she directed the tip of the whirring vibrator against the glans and very evanescently touched the velvety surface. Blinking his eyes and groaning softly with pleasure, Douglas Bridges saw her hairless, soft, moist, gaping pink cunt hover over his face. And out of an impulse that before tonight he could never have surrendered to, he reached out, grasping Veronica's lithe bare thighs, and pulled her down over him till his mouth fused against the very center of her tender cunt.
"Ohhh, Doug lover, that's so sweet-oh yes, yes, don't stop!" Veronica panted, her left hand cupping his balls and aiming the vibrator's tip very lightly over the deflated, hairy sacks. He shuddered to feel the hot swirling waves of resurgent passion which that stimulating titillation roused. Spontaneously he darted his tongue out to rasp against the twitching pink prisms of her tangy vulva, then to lap over the sauvely concealed nodule of her clit, huddling in its dainty hollow of soft cuntal flesh, brushing as well the sensitive slit of her urethral channelway.
He could feel her thigh muscles jerk violently against his clutching fingers as if to evade the tantalizing goad of his lingual tribute to her hot, clenching, avid, gratifying young cunt. He tensed his grip to force his tongue all over her cleft, laving and licking up and down, sweeping from her clit down almost to the furtive, shadowy perineal groove. Veronica sobbed and writhed, eyes shining, hugely dilated, nostrils flickering, and retaliated by gliding the whirring vibrator's probing, tickling, rousing tip over his scrotum. From there she moved along the slowly hardening shaft, on round and round the circumcisional groove. Slowly she began to move up and down over the entire throbbing glans, till the lips of his meatus spasmodically contracted to proclaim his renewal to the power of hot rhapsodic fucking.
"Ooooh, Doug, oh my God, you're marvellousoh, now, see how big and hard your cock is, lover-I want to feel it inside of my pussy, oh hurry. Ooh. . . Your tongue's making me so hot, but I want to cum with your big cock in my pussy, sweetheart, please!" she panted, and nimbly rolled over onto her back, arching up her knees, widely straddled, to welcome him.
Douglas Bridges flung himself upon her, as her free hand groped to hold his prick and steer it into her wet, twitching, gaping cuntal sheath. As he sank down on her, Veronica locked her calves over his. Her left arm hugged his shoulders as she reached down with the vibrator to glide it from his chinkbone into the cleft between his sinewy, flexing buttocks.
"Ahh-fuck me, oh darling dearest. Fuck me hard as you can. Oh give it to my pussy and don't stop!" she groaned ecstatically.
"Yes, Ronnie, oh you sweet bitch, I'm "crazy for you-Yes, I'm going to fuck all the juice out of me into that hot pussy of yours. There-ahh-there-oh, my God, what you're doing to me, you cute devilahh!" he cried hoarsely as the vibrator throbbed against his contracting anus and dispersed all the inhibitions which had psychically blocked his lovemaking all these dully domesticated years. His hands cupped her swelling tits, and, his mouth locking hotly to hers. His tongue probing furiously, he began to fuck her with short jerky thrusts, jostling her writhing body on the rumpled bed.
Whimpering with lustful ecstasy, the young hooker flung aside the vibrator, and clenched her squirming bare legs over his bottom as she met his wildly accelerated thrusts with arching, grindingly cohesive movements of her churning loins. As she neared the frenetic bliss she sought, she twisted her face away and whimpered, "Ooh, sweetheart, frig my clit, put your finger on my little button and frig and fuck me hard. Ohh, Doug darling, no man's ever got me so hot, oh never-Ohh, yes, yes, ooooh . . . Harder, faster, oh darling dearest. Ohhhhhh cummmmmm with me. . . I'm going to cummm ohh hurry angel oh darling ahhhhhh!"
He felt himself hurtled into the vortex of a mighty whirlpool which sucked and drained him, and his flesh and hers had become a feverish oneness. In the crescendo of their simultaneous paroxysm, he hardly knew that the squirming naked young woman had sunk her teeth into his shoulder almost to draw blood.
CHAPTER FIVE
"You say he came back last Sunday, dear lady," Dr. Jason Lorton gave Alma Bridges his most solicitous smile. "And he left this morning on another business trip. Did you have a chance to talk with him about this problem? Certainly, I do hope you told him that his accusation was certainly unfounded?"
The attractive dark-brown-haired matron plaintively shook her head and uttered a despondent sigh. "I-I'm afraid not, Doctor. Douglas was very nice and he brought me flowers and candy. He did mention that as soon as he lands these new accounts he's been working on, we might think about taking a nice long vacation. But-well, he spent so much time typing up what he calls his presentation report, that I didn't want to disturb him."
"Hm, I see." The debonair gynecologist frowned and touched his neatly waxed moustache. "Did you go to bed with him during the week, dear lady?"
Alma Bridges turned scarlet and lowered her eyes. "Y-yes," she faintly admitted," but-but nothing-I mean-we-we didn't have sex, not once. He-he did kiss me and hug me and say that he loved me, but-but that was all."
"You know, dear lady," he said slyly, "often when a husband comes home from a business trip and brings back gifts for his wife, it's a kind of guilty confession that perhaps he's done a little cheating on the side he doesn't want his wife to know about."
"Oh no, Doctor Lorton! I'm sure you're wrong about Douglas-why, he-he just isn't the type to look at another woman. That I'm sure about. If only I could get him to take more notice of me-" she began to sniffle with self-pity.
He reached out to touch her soft hand, and gently murmured, "Dear lady, I feel I know you better than you know yourself. You've so much affection to give, you're a very warm, generous person by nature. And it grieves me that a man, supposedly so wise in his business affairs, wouldn't recognize what a treasure he has right in his own home."
"Y-you're awfully nice, Doctor-" she sniffled again, raised limpid, widened hazel eyes to stare at him with a tremulous little smile.
"I know I'm presuming on such short acquaintance, dear lady, but I want to be your friend. Your very close friend. Would you call me Jason? And if I may, I'd like to call you Alma. It's a beautiful name. From the Spanish word which means soul-and that is what you have, dear Alma, in profusion. What a tragedy you have to be mated to a man with such lack of perception. If I were he, I'd count myself the most fortunate of men." His hand closed over hers. For an instant, Alma Bridges nervously tried to extricate it, then blushingly surrendered it and demurely lowered her eyes, her cheeks flaming.
"You know, Alma, you're in the very prime of life, a time when a woman needs passion and tenderness. Have you ever considered a divorce?"
"Oh no! I mean-he-he's always good to mehe-he's never beaten me or anything like that-" nervously, she tried to pull her hand away, but now he had clasped both his round hers and was staring magnetically at her, a suave smile on his handsome face.
"Being a good provider and stolidly faithful hardly qualify a man to be the lover a sensitive, ardent woman like you needs, dear Alma," he said softly. "You see, I'm a bachelor, and also at about the same age plateau in life when I want to spend the rest of my days with a warm, gracious woman who has so much to give and who can inspire a man like me to achieve great things."
Now, releasing her hand slightly, he lifted it in one of his and brought it to his lips. His moustache tickled her bare flesh, and Alma Bridges shivered fitfully and blushed even more furiously, her heart beginning to pound erratically. Trying to recover her poise, she stammered. "I-I told Phyllis I wanted her to see you for a checkup. I-I'm worried about her because she seems to be so interested in boys-though of course I don't let her date or anything like that. Maybe you could-you know-talk to her about sex-I-I think your being a doctor, it would carry more weight than anything I'd tell her."
"Of course, Alma, I'll be happy to see her. Just have her call Miss Naughton and make an appointment. You can be sure I'll be very discreet with her."
"I-I feel so much better, knowing there's someone I can rely on and talk to about such-such intimate things, D-Doctor."
"Jason, please, dear Alma," he softly interposed.
"J-Jason. Did you say you wanted to give me another examination?"
"Yes, Alma. The result of those tests I gave you last week was mainly satisfactory, but there are a few other things I wanted to check over. Why don't you undress behind the screen there? It won't take too long."
It was four-thirty this rainy Friday afternoon, and once again Dr. Jason Lorton had scheduled Alma Bridges as his last patient of the day. Lucille Naughton had been sent on errands to two pharmacies which cooperated with her employer, with instructions not to return till at least five-thirty.
"All right-I-I have been having headaches most of the week, J-Jason," the attractive matron confided as she moved behind the screen. Her hands were trembling, and she could feel a sudden moist perspiration tickle the sensitive,thick-furred niches of her armpits. I-I'm going to be naked in front of him again, and we 're all alone now, even the nurse is gone. I wonder why he wants to examine me again? Maybe it's because I feel so taut and edgy all the time-if only Douglas had shown me some affection when he got back-He didn't once try to m-make love to me-I-Iwanted him to, yes I did-Oh dear, what's the matter with me anyhow? She draped her brown cotton dress over the top of the screen, then her white nylon slip. Hesitating a moment, she timidly called, "H-how do you wwant me, J-Jason?"
"Do you still wear a girdle, Alma?" he lit a cigarette as he moved to the wall nearest the examining table, touched a button in the black electrical panel, lowering two leather cuffs fixed to strong white clothesline cords.
"Er, no-I-I changed to a pantygirdle, J-Jason," she stammered. It was true. Not only because of her embarrassment last week of having to remove her panties and leave on the rather bulky girdle, but also out of a subconscious desire to make herself look more youthful and hence more provocative, Alma Bridges had purchased a streamlined white satin-elastic pantygirdle last Monday at a neighborhood department store.
"Then why not remove it, my dear, and your shoes and stockings too? You'll be much more comfortable, I assure you," he took another puff at the cigarette and then crushed it out, rose from his desk and moved towards the table. He wore a long white surgical smock, shoes and socks-but under the smock, he was naked, and his prick was already throbbingly rigid with anticipation of awakening this long-dormant, lusciously opulent matron whose temperament he was now certain he could easily dominate and guide. He had already noted with considerable satisfaction that Alma Bridges had paid his steep bill by sending it back the very day it was received with a check drawn on her own personal checking account. That was an excellent sign. He wouldn't have to worry about the husband's querying the bill.
"Put on that sheet draped over the screen if it embarrasses you, dear Alma," he called as he stared greedily at the screen, his prick aching and swelling violently against the smock.
A moment later, the dark-brown-haired matron emerged, modestly lowering her eyes, face crimson, the white sheet draped round her from bosom to thighs. Wearing only her bra, hose and pumps, she made her way to the table. "Stretch out and make yourself comfortable, dear lady," Dr. Jason Lorton inclined his head deferentially, with a charming, magnetic smile. He helped her up onto the table, letting her retain the sheet for the moment, then suavely pursued, "Now lift your feet, my dear. To make this particular examination, I have to loft your lovely legs to the proper angle."
"All-all right, Jason-oh my, I-I feel so embarrassed to be like this-" Alma Bridges tremulously faltered.
Taking her right ankle in his left hand, he lifted it up towards the dangling leather cuff and locked it snugly, then did the same to her right ankle with the other cuff. Then, going back to the wall, he touched the button, and the cord began to draw upwards, pulling Alma Bridges' stockinged legs high and widely apart till the sheet fell away to disclose her furry cunt.
"Oooh-wh-what are you doing?-Oh please, J-Jason-this is awful-You're m-making a spectacle of me-Oh please-Do-do you have to do this?" she gasped, closing her eyes and biting her lips as she found herself so lasciviously exposed.
Now stepping beside her, he reached down and tugged the sheet entirely away, and Alma Bridges was naked except for bra and rumpled nylons and pumps. Her deliciously curvaceous legs were drawn high up and straddled lewdly, so that the voluptuous rounds of her milky-white botton tilted vulnerably upwards in a way that exposed not only the pink gape of her cunt but also the furtive, crinkly rosette of her contracting butt hole.
"Ooooh-please-oh. This is awful-wh-what are you going to do to me, Jason?" Alma Bridges groaned, twisting her scarlet face to one side and trying to contract her muscles to diminish the obscene projection of her loins and ass.
"You don't need this, dear Alma," he murmured huskily as he reached to unfasten the bandeau of her bra and slip it off, baring the lush narrow-spaced gourds of her milky tits with their wide, dusky coral aureoles and voluptuously ripe, crinkly nipples. Then, reaching up, he scuffed off her pumps, and rolled her nylons down to the cuffs, leaving her naked as the day she was born.
"Oh-I-I'm naked-oh, Jason, for heaven's sake, whatever do you mean to do to me?" she panted, trying to reach down with her hands to cover the thick dark-brown curls which framed her soft pink cunt.
"Free you from the thralldom of your own body, dear one," he gently murmured, sliding open a small drawer at the side of the examining table and drawing out a hand-operated vibrator. "I love you, Alma. I know I've no right to say it, but I must. I know you don't love your husband-"
"Ohh dear-oh this is dreadful-You mustn't say things like that-oh, Jason, un-untie my legs-oh I don't want to be naked like this-" Now she covered her panting tits with one arm, her other hand still trying to reach down and cover up her gaping cunt.
Dr. Jason Lorton touched the vibrator, whirring tip to her left knee-hollow, gently stroking the milky, twitching flesh up and down with the most evanescent of touches. With a knowing smile on his sensual lips, his eyes fixed the matron's crimsoned face. With his other hand, he touched a lever on the underside of the examining table, lowering it till the corded cuffs tightened round her ankles and her legs were stretched and tractioned to maximum. "Oooh-Jason-my legs-it hurts-oh please let me down-I'm so ashamed-please, if-if you're going to examine me, for heaven's sake do it and get it over with!" she tremulously protested.
He moved back to the wall to give the pulleycords more play and ease the stress on her straddled bare legs. Then he returned to the table to lower it an inch or so more, till she was placed at about the level of his now savagely projecting prick which forced out the white surgical smock like a tentpole. Her eyes rolled wildly and she squealed with dismay at these alterations in her posture. When she caught sight of his enormously rigid prick, she emitted a shocked gasp, but her eyes hypnotically fixed on that vigorously erect emblem of virile maleness. Ohhh! He-he's so big and excitedWhat is he going to do to me? I'm helpless and so indecently tied up, I can't stop him from doing anything, I just can't! Oh my-I've never exposed myself like this even to my own husband-and I'm alone with him and I can see his-his great big thing-oh whatever is he going to do?
Pretending not to notice the naked matron's shuddering gasps and uneasy squirmings on the table, nor the convulsive flexions of her updrawn, lewdly straddled legs, Dr. Jason Lorton applied the tip of the little vibrator against her lower left thigh and gradually descended it. He watched the rippling spasms that visited the soft-grained milky flesh, while Alma Bridges' stockinged toes curled and twisted uncontrollably. In an excess of mortified shame, she closed her eyes tightly, flattening her heaving tits with her left arm while she clamped her other palm as tightly over her gaping pink cuntal lips as she could. But the flickering of her nostrils and the involuntary wrigglings of her upturned, distended satiny white bottomcheeks belied her outward show of remaining impervious to his adept seduction.
"Alma, dearest one, what I'm trying to do is get you to rid yourself of any shame about your body. It's a beautiful, womanly body, rich in passion, capable of providing intense delight to the discriminating, knowing lover who can sense the real you. Yes, my darling, just as I do," his voice was softly persuasive as he kept the vibrator gliding up and down her shuddering thigh. He watched the fingers of her right hand shift and tighten, restlessly mobile, then added gently, "Take your hand away, my darling!"
"Oh n-no-I-I can't, J-Jason-oh please, you don't know how embarrassing this is-oh please let me down now-" she faintly stammered, turning her flushed face to one side.
"But you know, deep down inside you, that you don't want me to let you go, my dearest one, that you want to be freed of all your fears and inhibitions and become the true Alma I know you to be," he suavely exhorted, directing the whirring to the sensitive inside of her squirming thigh.
Ohh God-it's tickling me so-I can feel my-my pussy getting sticky and hot, and my legs are shaking, I can't control my body anymore, I'm frightened-oh, he-he could r-rape me like this, tiedup thewaylam-whatwillldo-ooooooh, how that thing tickles my bare flesh, it sends waves of hot tickling through my entire body-
Laying the vibrator down on the table, Dr. Jason Lorton moved to the matron's right side, grasped her right wrist and drew it away from her gaping cunt. As she squealed with dismay and frantic confusion, her eyes humid and dilated, he drew another restraint cuff from the underside of the table and locked it round her captive wrist. With a squeal, Alma Bridges at once plunged her free hand down to cover her exposed cunt. He took up the vibrator again and, standing near the head of the table, began to caress her nipples and aurolae with the whirring phallic-shaped tip of the stimulating device.
"Ohh-d-don't-oh pi-please-oh this is awful-you've no right-you aren't examining me at all-oh please, J-Jason, this is wrong of yououuu, oh my b-breasts-oh please take it away from them-ahh-J-Jason oh don't, I don't wwant you to!" she moaned, restlessly squirming. Her left hand at last left her cunt and rushed back to try to halt the lingering caresses of the little vibrator.
Instantly he grasped her free wrist with his left hand and directed the vibrator down her belly and lower abdomen, where the silky dark-brown curls of her cuntal fleece began to thicken. Then, his eyes gleamingly fixed on the twitching pink labia of her exposed, yawning cunt, brushed the urethral orifice and the nodule of her clit with the softly whirring cone.
"Oooohh-eeeeek-ohh d-don't, oh not there, I b-beg of you, Jason-oh this is just awful of youooooh, it t-tickles so-please-oh not between my l-legs-not there-"
"Not where, dearest?" he insisted, touching her stiffening clit with the vibrator's mobile tip.
"You-k-know-ahh-ohh my God-oh stop it-you're driving me c-crazy!" her voice was muffled and tremulous, as with a near-hysteria. Her hips salaciously jerked and weaved, disclosing at moments the lascivious view of her crinkly, puckering butt hole.
"Then say it-you must learn to forget all these hang-ups and guilt feelings about joyous sex, my dearest Alma," he demanded, continuing to brush her burgeoning clit with the vibrator.
Her botton jerked lewdly about, the cheeks clenching, then yawning, as involuntary spasms attacked her wantonly exhibited hips and loins.
"Say it!" he hissed, moving the vibrator back and forth over the now visible stiffened button of her hypersensitized clit.
"Ohh-my p-pussy-oh Jason darling oh no more, I can't bear it-oh please take that dreadful thing away from my ppussy!" she breathed, her forehead and cheeks a bright crimson.
"Good, my darling, that's the first step away from your prudery which holds your beautiful body back from fulfillment," he purred. He guided the vibrator just over the twitching delicate pink lips of her quivering vulva, then began to stroke her navel and lower abdomen with the artificial stimulator. "Now I want you to use your free hand to caress me too, to show me what you really want, my darling," he huskily murmured as he lofted his smock to the waist with his left hand, baring the bobbing spear of his dark-veined, throbbing prick and moving over to her left so that she could reach him. "Do it, Alma, you know you've secretly always wanted to!" he commanded, magnetically, touching her darkened, tautly stiffened nipple with the tip of the vibrator.
Her eyes, luminous and humid, hugely dilated, fixed on the brazenly proffered prick. She saw how the lips of the meatus twitched and contracted from the violent gismic load he longed to gush inside her warm tight cunt. "Ohhh noo! Oh put it awaydon't-oh, this is shameful-what must you think of me, I can't do such a thing-oh please don't m-make me!" she faintly gasped.
"You know you really want to, darling. Yes, reach out and hold my big cock . . . say the word aloud, Alma. Put your lovely soft warm hand out to ittake hold of my cock which needs and wants your pussy, Alma dearest!" he hoarsely demanded, directing the vibrator over to her other nipple and exacerbating the sensitive coral bud till it darkened and hardened.
Ohh how huge it is-I-I'm sure it's bigger than Douglas's, and the lips are-are puckering-oh my heavens, he.. . wants to have me-oh what shall I do-I feel so faint, so hot, I can't help wriggling myself from all that awful tickling-oh my pussy is just driving me crazy! Ooooh, it-it's jerking and moving, I'm so helpless, he-he's looking at my p-pussy and my b-breasts-I can't resist, tied the way I am-and I'm so weak and helpless, I just have to do what he wants-ohh I never have-oh-how hot and hard it is-ughbut if he-he does it to me, II might get pregnant-oh this is dreadful!
Gingerly, her face contorted with her combative, mingling emotions of fear, shame and subconscious, salacious curiosity, Alma Bridges closed her eyes and extended her free left hand out towards the suave gynecologist's swollen prick. She gasped aloud as her palm brushed the velvety-taut spear-point of the glans, then moved uneasily downwards till at last, at his sibilant order, she cupped the bulging shaft with her trembling closed palm.
"You haven't said the word yet, darling. Tell me now-what have you got your lovely soft hand on? Tell me, Alma!" he insisted, putting the vibrator against her wakened, throbbing clit.
"Eeeek! Your c-cock-your big hard hot ccock-oh my God!" she hoarsely ejaculated, turning her crimsoned face restlessly from side to side, her milky-satiny lush round hips fitfully squirming and jerking as he continued to brush the tip of the vibrator against her slit and vulva. Then circling he touched the fleshy, moist, twitching outer labia of her gaping pink cunt.
Now he bent his head and his lips fused to hers. Alma uttered a stifled little cry of surprise, shame and desire, her tits wildly heaving as myriad sensations swirled through her now feverishly aroused naked body. The secret fillip of infidelitybut an infidelity deliciously perpetrated against her outward will by virtue of being fettered to the examining table-made her blush and tremble with an ungovernable yearning stirring in the deepest recesses of her womb. And as he furled his tongue between her passively yielding lips and continued to perorate the vibrator back and forth over her yawning moist pink cunt, she convulsively squeezed her hand against his aching, turgid prick as if petitioning him to appease her wakened cravings, so long dormant and unrealized.
Now, touching the back of her left hand with the vibrator, he made her release her half-reluctant, half-excited hold. Swiftly doffing the smock, he stood, wiry and naked, his prick bulging, his hairy balls contracting spasmodically as he fought for self-control. Then, with a soft sensual chuckle, moving quickly to the medicine cabinet behind the table, he took out a tube of K-Y jelly and annointed the glans-like tip of the little vibrator. Moving to the foot of the table, extending left thumb and forefinger, he gaped open the perineal groove to bare the fleshy rosette of her virgin butt hole and lightly pressed the still whirring tip against the crinkly aperture.
Alma Bridges raised her head, her face twisted in a rictus of mingled consternation and helpless yearning. Her mouth gaped, her eyes rolled, then a sobbing, prolonged cry escaped her. "Ohh-ahh ohh nooo! Oh, take it out of there-oh Jason-ahh-oh I can't stand the tickling-ohh you cruel, awful man-ohh please, d-darling-ohh noooo!"
He pressed it slowly home, almost to the hilt, as her hips plunged and threshed, her legs trying to kick, the long fluid muscles in thighs and calves spasming furiously. Going back to the cabinet, he took out a little plastic box, opened it and removed an IUD. Then, grinding his teeth to hold back the maddening onrush of hot.gismic tribute to her wanton lovely nakedness, he moved between her updrawn, straddled legs and carefully inserted the prophylactic. "This is much better than a diaphram for making love, my darling. You'll hardly notice it, so you can surrender that luscious body of yours to all the sensations you've longed to experience!"
"Ahh-ohh-JJason-D-Doctor-oh my God-t-take it out of mee-" her teeth were chattering now, her forehead deeply creased, her toes curling and twisting wildly. She tried to reach with her free left hand the imbedded vibrator deep in her rectal sheath.
Carefully clambering onto the foot of the leather padded examining table, Dr. Jason Lorton crouched on his knees before the writhing naked matron, his fingers intercepting her frantically groping hand and gripping it. His right forefinger slyly brushed her hardened, quivering clit.
"Ohhh, Jason-oh you mustn't-I'm married-I don't-ohhhhh-" she moaned, unable to control the flurried wrigglings of her uptilted hips.
"Alma, didn't I tell you I love you? That I want to marry you, darling? We'll talk about it later, sweetheart. I'll help you get the divorce and then we can be married. Now, you know you want me to love you, don't you?" His voice was soothing yet insistent, as he kept his forefinger prodding at her throbbing clit.
"Ohh-d-don't-Jason-please-it's not right-I-I've never cheated on Douglas-oh ohhh my God, you're driving me just crazy, darling-" she sobbed, her tits furiously rising and falling as tremors swept through her now feverishly aroused naked body.
"Then you want me to do it, don't you, Alma sweetheart? Tell me-" his finger probed between the pouting, moist, twitching lips of her vulva.
"Ohh-ahh-yess-oh my God-ohh darling-yes-oh-oh-have me-I'm so hot!" she whimpered, writhing uncontrollably.
"Then ask me to fuck you with my cock in your pussy, Alma darling-say it just that way, that's the way lovers talk," he urged, his fingertip against nudging her stiffened clit.
Eyes closed, face crimson, Alma Bridges gasped out, "Ohh-yes, J-Jason, I-I do-oh yes, f-fuck my pussy with your c-cock, ohh do it to me!"
"Yes, my darling, now I'm going to fuck you and make you cum," he panted as he put his right thumb and forefinger to the burrowed haft of the vibrator imbedded in her distended pink butt hole and moved it slightly back and forth.
"Ooooh, ohh Jason, oh I can't stand it there too, ohh it's too much, oh darling!" Alma wailed, tilting back her flushed, contorted face, eyes glazed with the onrush of overwhelming lust.
Now bending to her, his fingers gripping his bulging prick at the center of the shaft, Dr. Jason Lorton guided his dark-veined weapon against the gaping pink cleft of her twitching cunt. His left hand cuddled one of her heaving tits, and he playfully rubbed the heavy glans of his prick over her squirming cunt till Alma Bridges could bear no more. "Ohh, Jason, for God's sake, F-fuck my pussy-Fuck meeee!" she fretfully, sobbingly wailed. Her free hand clasped over his at her tit and she arched her loins upwards to seize the agonizedly demanded object of her cuntfulfillment.
With a groan of delight, he thrust himself between the quivering lips of her vulva and slowly pressed his prick home till it was burrowed to the balls in Alma's tightening, shuddering soft moist cuntal sheath.
"OHHH JASON! OH MY GOD, IT'S SO GOOD, OH DARLING, DARLING! FUCK ME!" the hitherto repressed and prudish naked matron ecstatically shrilled. Her thighs were jerking frantically as she tried to clamp them over her skillful seducer. As he stretched out over her, her left arm locked over his shoulders and she sobbingly offered him her mouth. The black-haired gynecologist furled his tongue deep between her lips, his left hand cupping and fondling her panting tit as he savored the intense, convulsive contractions of her cuntal sheath against his rooting prick.
Alma Bridges was beside herself. Oooooh, I've never felt anything so exciting in all my life-My God, it's like h-having two c-cocks inside meThat thing he pushed inside my b-bottom is stretching me and tickling and throbbing till I'm ready to faint-and oh how his big hard cock is grinding inside my pussy-ohh, I wish poor Douglas could have made me feel this way-Jason's such a considerate, sweet man-ohh, he's absolutely driving me wild, I can feel my insides churningohh, ohh God, if only he'd untie my legs, I want to hold him with all my body while he f-fucks me!
Feverishly, her tongue thrust back in retaliatory movement into his mouth as her hips began to squirm and jerk and thresh. Dr. Jason Lorton had slowly witlidrawn his prick to the very brink of her gaping, moist cuntal sheath, then as slowly pressed back to the hilt. Her vaginal spasms and fluttering made him feel the sweet tight moist hot adhesion of her cuntal walls, and he groaned as he held himself back from volcanic bursting into her violently wakened, eager, insatiably rapacious cunt.
Gradually, he began to increase the pace of stroking her greedily clamping cuntal walls till Alma whimpered and sobbed aloud with the savage lust-waves that began to consume her. Then, slipping his left hand down, he began to finger her clit while he hastened his thrusts, giving her short, jerky, rapid prongings that jostled and shook her, making her tits jiggle. Alma's face was rapt with tortured ecstasy, turning from side to side, her eyes widely dilated and glazed, her nostrils flickering and clenching. Her fingernails gouged at his neck in the frenzied throes that began to swirl through her being.
"Ahhh-Jason-oh my God, hurry-do it-oh fuck me-I want to cum-more-harder-ahh ohh my sweet Jason, oh I can't stand it, oh nooooahhhhh-Jason, harder, harder, harder, dig it into meeee, oh my pussy needs it-fuck meeeeee, ahhh, yes, yes, ohhh sweetheart, I'm cummmmming! Ohh now, I'm cummmmming oh my darling Jason oh my God, yes, yes nowwww!" she shrieked as her body jerked to each short, hard fucking thrust. His forefinger rolled her stiffened clit from side to side. Her head rose, then fell back as she felt the sudden bursting flood of his hot jism, and she cried out wordlessly, raucously as her straddled thights writhed and jerked and shuddered.
Slowly he drew himself out of her squishy, churning cunt, slid down from the table and, his greasied prick still partly stiff, walked over to his desk to light two cigarettes. "Here, Alma sweetheart," he murmured as he held one of them to her panting mouth. "Was it good for you, darling?"
"Oh-ohh-so good-oh Jason, if you only knew-oh darling!" she faintly breathed. Her trembling lips took hold of the cigarette and puffed at it as he unlocked the ankle cuffs and gently lowered each leg in turn to the table. "I'll help you down, darling," he murmured, reaching out to cup her tits after he had freed her right wrist. "There we go."
Alma Bridges' legs were wavering under her as she clutched him with both arms, her eyes starry, her lips trembling and moist. "Oh Jason, I do love you so," she murmured.
"That's my darling. Now you use the bathroom through that door there, then get dressed, sweetheart, and I'll have a glass of brandy for you when you're ready," he gently told her as he patted her milky-sheened plump bottom.
Pulling his smock back on, he sat down at his desk with a sigh of completion, leaned back and puffed at his cigarette, a cynical smile on his lips. Reaching for a bill form, he wrote out a bill for Mrs. Alma Bridges, dating it and noting "Second examination," and itemized it to include the box of IUDs and a "the therapeutic vaginal treatment," totalling $150. Folding it neatly and inserting it into an envelope, he addressed it to the dark-brown-haired matron, stamped it. Tossing it into the'"out" basket on his desk so that it lay face down he chuckled softly to himself and finished his cigarette. The naked matron emerged, eyes averted and face scarlet as the enormity of her first marital indiscretion was borne in on her by seeing him seated at his desk in his smock as before.
"Go dress, honey. I'll call you one of these afternoons. And remember what I said about the divorce. Think about it very seriously."
"I-I will, J-Jason d-dearest," her voice was flurried and unsteady as she disappeared behind the screen.
CHAPTER SIX
"My, my," Lucille Naughton said sarcastically as she walked into the gynecologist's examining room and hung up her coat, "seems I'm always meeting your happy patients in the hall when I come back from an errand. You really must have made Mrs. Bridges happy. She looked as if she'd been to bed with Cary Grant, Richard Burton and Charlton Heston all at once."
"Never mind her, Lucille. Unless maybe you're itching for another spanking. Now, did you bring back my three checks from Denton and Cranston Pharmacies-that was two from Denton, you know, because they didn't have last month's ready on time."
The tall honey-gold-haired nurse put her hand into the pocket of her white uniform and drew out three folded checks. "Here they are, Jason darling. I checked the amounts myself, they're correct."
"So they are, my dear." He grinned and shoved the bottle of brandy over to her, the one from which he had just given Alma Bridges a much-needed restorative drink. "Let's toast our prospering venture."
Lucille uncorked the bottle, poured a generous slug into a Dixie cup and warily watched him emulate her. "To us," she purred seductively, shifting closer to him, then giggling softly as he put out his hand and ran it up under her skirt along the white stocking till he reached warm bare skin. "You still mean it, Jason lover?"
"Mean what?" his hand had crept up to the crotch of her snug white satin-elastic pantygirdle and begun to stroke her cunt. Closing her eyes and shivering, the honey-blonde arched herself to him, purring like a cat in heat.
"You know, honey-mm, keep doing that, it feels so nice!"
"What do I know?" he sarcastically persisted, his forefinger rubbing back and forth over the mound of her cunt.
"That if we work things out right and make the killing you expect by the end of this year, lover, we'll get married and maybe go live in Mexico or somewhere romantic?" she insinuated in a low, vibrant voice.
"I told you I'd marry you when the right time came, Lucille baby."
"I know, lover," she reproachfully pouted, "but I can't help getting jealous over all these one-night stands you have with these neurotic bitches who come to the office-like that Alma Bridges, for instance."
"Now watch your mouth," he growled, applying a vicious little pinch to her cunt that drew a wail from Lucille and made her recoil, rubbing her crotch and eyeing him fearfully. "Who thought up this operation anyway? You're my shill. Hell, I could have got a dozen broads, maybe even better-looking than you and not so whiny either, come to think of it. I'll tell you for the last time, baby, as their doctor, I con them fror dough. And if I have to stud them now and again to make them pay up, it's none of your business, get it?"
"Yes, Jason," Lucille contritely murmured. "Don't get angry. I-I hoped you'd feel like taking care of me now, after doing your errands. Please, lover?"
"All right," he shrugged. "But you've got to work for it. Get down on your knees after you peel off your dress and slip, take my cock out and work it up for that squirmy pussy of yours, bitch. And you can sit on my lap and do all the work too."
"Oh, I will, Jason lover!" Lucille Naughton giggled sensually as she whisked off the white nurse's uniform, then the lace-trimmed slip beneath. Felinely, seductively, she sank down on her knees, reaching behind her to unhook her bra and let her firm-tipped close-set pear-tits thrust out invitingly. Then slowly, a knowing smile on her lips, she grasped the hem of his white smock and lofted it to his waist, bowed her head and flicked her tongue over his stickied prick.
He grasped the upfucked smock and tugged it off, then straddled his legs as he watched the half-naked blonde nurse squirm restlessly on her stockinged knees to come closer to him. Her fingers tickled his hairy balls and scrotum. Crushing out the cigarette and downing his brandy, he put both hands to the top of her honey-gold curls and domineeringly pushed her head down still more, his eyes sparkling with triumph at this emprise. Lucille, with a gasp of masochistic pleasure, hastened to take his glans between her lips and suck noisily and rapidly. Her fingertips glided up and down his hardening prickshaft, her naked pear-tits juggling and bobbing as she shifted on her knees to prove her utter subservience to her tyrannical employer-lover.
"That's enough, bitch!" he suddenly groaned. "Now sit on my lap facing me and stuff my cock where it belongs!"
Lucille rose, her luminous eyes fixed on his rigid, bobbing prick, as she tugged down her white nylon panties and stepped out of them, her provocative tits dangling and jiggling with her movements. Clad in garterbelt and her white stockings and matching shoes, she straddled over his thighs and squatted a little. Prying open her fleshy pink cuntal lips with left thumb and forefinger she grasped his dark-veined turgid shaft with her right hand and guided it towards the eager moist soft gape till she felt the heavy glans slip between the lips. Then carefully, with a gasp of pleasure, her eyes widening, she sank down till his prick was thrust up to the balls inside her already convulsively tightening vaginal sheath and locked her arms round his neck.
His hands fondled her tits lingeringly. "That's good. Just be careful you don't let my cock slip out of that hot pussy of yours, Lucille honey. Now work me off and see how long you can make it last."
"Ohh darling, ohh Jason, it's so good, so hard and thick inside my pussy," she breathed ecstatically as she squirmed her velvety bare bottom this way and that over his lap. The muscles of her calves and thighs flexed lasciviously. Dr. Jason Lorton closed his eyes and surrendered himself to the insatiable wooing of his beautiful blonde nurse-receptionist. He knew that by having had Alma Bridges take off his furious edge, he could hold off a delightfully long time before Lucille would be gratfied by his hot cum. He was thinking of Phyllis Bridges too, envisioning her blushingly undressing before him next Friday afternoon, for Alma had promised that she would send her daughter to him for a thorough checkup.
"Mmmmm, Jason honey, ohh, say you're pleased with your Lucille," his ardent blonde mistress huskily cajoled as she arched up slightly, gasping with sensual excitement to feel the rasping friction of his hard hot prick against the sensitized, twitching crannies of her passionate cuntal sheath.
"If I weren't, I would let you fuck me, bitch," was his cynical rejoinder. "Now use your right forefinger to tickle your clitoris and help you cum. It's getting late and I'm looking forward to the weekend."
"Oh please, Jason, can't I come over to your apartment and be with you?" Lucille Naughton pleaded as she began to comply with his lewd order. Her eyes widened as her slim forefinger brushed the quivering nodule of her clit, her left arm convulsively tightening round him as she steadied herself.
"Time enough for that when we get married, baby. Now get yourself hot and use the words I like to hear you say when you're being fucked. That's how you'll please me," he commanded. His eyes still closed, he was summoning up other gratifying images now, and these were of sleek, tall blonde Martha Foster. Her husband's pro basketball team was on the road for ten days, and she'd phoned him last night to ask if she couldn't see him at his apartment, and he knew exactly why. The slinky bitch's cunt was itching again, and her all-pro forward hubby might be one of the top scorers in the league when it came to sinking baskets from twenty feet out, but he didn't sink his prick into Martha's yearning cunt capably or frequently enough.
He was pretending it was Martha now astride him, riding up and down on his aching, stiffening prick as Lucille Naughton, mewling and whimpering with nymphomaniacal eagerness, quickened her gait. Her tits jiggled and bounced as her right forefinger prodded and rubbed her burgeoning clit. Her face was flushed, eyes shining and exorbitant, nostrils flaring and shrinking as her passions mounted. He could feel the tight constriction of her tensing vaginal chasm against his impaling prick each time she sank down to his balls.Then he found the images changing to those of adolescent Phyllis Bridges who, if she took after Alma at all, was-likely to be a very sexy piece. True, she was probably still cherry, from what Alma had mentioned about regulating her daughter's activities, but that could very well be the best kind. It was going to be an exceptionally interesting week ahead, and a profitable one, too. His split with the pharmacies and laboratories who had agreed to Medicaid arrangements with him as well as to deals with regular, affluent patients in boosting billings on all types of prescriptions and tests ought to amount to a good ninety grand before the year was over. And with his practice steadily growing, the money source hadn't even been fully tapped.
"Oooh, Jason-ahh, oh darling, can you cum with your girl?" Lucille was whimpering, her head tilted back, eyes rolling, her body shaking with the prelude to her violent cuntal climax.
He could afford to be generous, the way things were going. Lucille had earned herself a good cum, only he'd have to dole it out more sparingly, now that she was hooked on him the way a drug addict is on big H. The less fucking she got, the more cooperative she'd be, with that illusion of being Mrs. Jason Lorton at the end of the line. You'd think a smart sexy bitch like her would realize that when a man could make her do just about everything in the sex manual and come back for more, he certainly didn't have to put a wedding ring on her finger. What he really wanted was a rich society broad, neurotic as hell, who needed her ashes hauled regularly and a good thrashing every so often to keep her crawling for it. One whose bank account and social prestige would help him get the really well heeled and big-name patients into his office.
The euphoria of his mood and his projected plans for the immediate future had titillated his lust, and now as Lucille wriggled and sobbed, her finger wildly rubbing her swollen clit, he arched himself, his hands roughly kneading her shuddering tits. As she sank down, squirming so as to feel his aching prick rasp the quivering crannies of her cuntal sheath, he felt himself explode violently into her.
"Ohh, Jason," her voice was rhapsodically tremulous, "ohh sweetheart, I know you love your little Lucille, ohh honey, it's so good when we cum together-ooooooh!"
Martha Foster could hardly wait to take off her gaberdine raincoat and chic rain hat, dropping them to the floor and flinging her arms round Jason Lorton's shoulders. She glued her freshly lip stick painted mouth wantonly to his and flicked the tip of her pert pink tongue just inside his lips. "Oohh, I've needed that-and lots more, Jason darling," she huskily whispered, nibbling at his earlobe and arching her lithe body to his. She was wearing a black satin pants-suit outfit that hugged her small orange-like tits, long sleek thighs and boyishly compact up-standingly rounded buttocks almost like a second skin. Her beige nylons and open-toe black high-heeled sandals made her tower almost to the top of his head. She smelled of Chanel Number Five, and her wheat-hued blonde hair was boyishly close-cropped. Her face was insolent, with gray-green eyes and short but very thickly and heavily mascaraed lashes.
"Abe'll be away tell next Thursday, lover," she purred, artfully plucking at the knot of the belt of his red silk dressing robe, loosening it, sliding one slim, neatly manicured hand inside to fondle his already stiffened prick. "Can you put me up till Monday morning, Jason?"
"I think so, Martha. Of course, you'll have to earn your keep," he chuckled softly, running his hands lingeringly over the jouncy cheeks of her weaving, resilient ass. "How are you as a cook?"
"Nothing imagine, just steaks and roasts and chops. Abe-likes good red meat, no frills. Hmphh-just the way he is in bed, too, the louse." With a langurous sigh, Martha Foster walked over to the huge low and thickly upholstered divan, stretched out on it, resting her head back against a large pouf cushion.
"Light me a cigarette, that's an angel. Why did you ask about my cooking?"
"I thought you might like to prepare supper for us, that's all. I'm much too relaxed, as you see, to want to dress up and go out on a rainy night like this. Besides, it'd be a waste of time, wouldn't it?"
She giggled, nodded, archly regarding him as he lit two cigarettes and brought her one. Her other hand reached again for his stiff prick and squeezed it meaningfully as he stood beside the divan looking down at her. "Well, I guess I could do that much for my favorite gynecologist, darling." Then she pouted. "You know, that was an awfully steep bill you sent me a few months ago. Abe almost went through the roof-$200 for that simple little examination and what you told me to do. By the way, no more such problems, thanks to you, lover."
"I'm happy to hear it, Martha," he smiled mockingly at her.
She put out her tongue at him, lazily stretched, drawing up one knee and rubbing it slowly as she stared up at him through half-closed eyelids. "What I ought to have told Abe was that most of the charge was for your studding me-oww-why the hell did you do that?"
His lips tightening, he had reached out to slap her viciously across the cheek, his eyes narrowed and cold. "Because I don't care for talk like that, you randy bitch. I could have kept you coming to my office for all sorts of tests if I'd wanted to coin money on you, you know. And my time happens to be worth money. All you do is sit around home waiting to show off your round heels when that star athlete of a husband of yours is out making loot for your shopping sprees at Lord and Taylor and Saks Fifth Avenue."
"Damn you anyway, Jason Lorton!" Angrily, her eyes blazing, Martha Foster sat up, took a puff at her cigarette, then spitefully kicked at his bare shin. "Just for that, I think I'll go back home."
"You tricky little bitch-kick me, would you?" he snarled, stooping to rub his shin, then straightening, his eyes blazing with sadistic fury. Seizing her by the wrist, he dragged her to her feet, then cuffed her half a dozen times, tried to claw at him, then to press the lighted cigarette against his cheek, he knocked it out of her hand. Quickly he stamped on it with his slippered heel, then quickly sat down, yanking her unceremoniously across his lap. "Now you're going to get what you really came for, you masochistic tramp!" he growled.
"Let go of me, you bastard-I want to go homestop it-nooo!" Martha Foster tried to reach back with both hands to prevent his retaliation. For Dr. Jason Lorton had reached under her to unfasten the heavy felt belt of her black satin trousers. Then seizing them at the waistband and vigorously yanking them down to her upper thighs, he exposed her naked pale-whitesheened tightly set butt sheeks and the exquisite, tiny oval brown birthmark at the very base of her left nether globe just where her long lithe thigh joined her clenching satiny posterior.
"You son of a bitch, you tore my new pants-suit," she wailed, kicking her long legs frantically and trying to reach back to cover up her bare behind.
"Buy another one and charge it to that generous hubby of yours, bitch," he taunted as he pinioned her wrists in his left hand. He shifted her flailing legs down to angle towards the thickly carpeted floor, and promptly clamped his right leg over her sinuous, sleek calves to render her powerless. "You know damn well you've been creaming in those pants all day just thinking about this-coming here without panties is the real tipoff, you cock-crazy little tramp!"
"Don't you talk to me that way, Jason Lorton, I hate you, I'll tell Abe, I'll-owww!" her storming protest was suddenly changed into a fretful wail of pain as his right hand descended like a plummet to flatten the ripe center of her left bottomcheek, leaving a flaming pink splotch to mar the pale white skin.
"I bet you'll tell him, bitch. But he'd use his fists and that's not what gives you your kicks, is it?" Smack-whack-crack! His right palm energetically landed three times without pause on the very same place, darkening the angry blotch on the nacreous globe.
"Owouuuu! Please-oh no, Jason, I love you-oh you're cruel, I hate you-ouch-ohh stop, ohh you're hurting me soooo!" she wailed stridently, turning back her tearstained, contorted face. His hand rose and fell now in a rapid cadence of stinging slaps all over her wriggling, weaving bare behind.
Now, letting his fingers go limp and using them like the thongs of a whip, he began to flick her bottom, concentrating on the thin ambery-shadowy crease between her weaving, shuddering butt cheeks, drawing squeals and tearful sobs, while her body threshed and jerked frantically. Then, swiftly altering the mode of chastisement, he raised his right hand high and brought it down with all his might right over the crevice at the ripest durves of her flaming naked ass.
"Ahrrrrreeeeeeowwww! Ohh darrrrling, oh you're hurting meeee dreadfully, I'm sorry I was such a bitch. Oh please have mercy on your naughty Martha," she hysterically supplicated, again turning her tearstained face back to him and wrenching at his relentless grip on her slim wrists.
His face cruel and taut and flushed, eyes sparkling, Dr. Jason Lorton ignored her abject pleas as his right hand rose and fell methodically another twenty sonorous, stinging times, while Martha Foster lunged and twisted feverishly. Her head was flung back, eyes hugely wide and bright with tears, mouth gaping in wildly sobbing, incoherent cries.
When at last he stopped, breathless and shuddering with lust, his chest was heaving. The folds of his robe yawned and his bulging prick prodded Martha Foster's wriggling, smooth flat, deeply dimpled belly. Her bottom was a violent scarlet, darkest at the summits and near the pouting inner edges of the shuddering cheeks.
Freeing her legs and releasing her wrists, he hoarsely directed, "Now, pull those pants right off and kneel up on the divan, bow your head down over the back and pull your buttocks as far apart as you can get them!"
Whimpering and shivering, her running mascara streaking her flushed, tearstained cheeks, the tall blonde matron crawled on her knees to the middle of the divan. Reaching back to yank down the ripped black satin pants, then twisting-not without a grimace of pain-she pulled first one leg off, then the other and shoved the tattered garment to the floor. Still sniffling, she leaned forward over the back of the divan as far as she could lower her head. With her beautifully manicured fingers trembling she reached back to grasp the twitching, flaming edges of her swollen buttocks and pry them open till the salaciously puckering, crinkly pink-coral rosette of her asshole was fully exposed.
"Stay that way if you know what's good for you, bitch," he growled He flung off his robe and crouched behind her, his left palm pressing hard on her shoulder to keep her in position while with his right he aimed his swollen prick at the quivering fissure of her apprehensive, dainty anus.
Martha Foster stiffened as his heavy glans roughly pressed past the shrinking anal lips and probed past the tightening ring of sphincter muscles, her face lifting, her eyes exorbitantly widened and glazed with tears. "Ooooh, be g-gentle, lover," she moaned placatingly as her fingers shifted and twisted, her body fitfully jerking as he gouged pitilessly onwards inside her tight rectum.
"You wouldn't like it if I were gentle, bitch, and you know it," he mocked, thrusting savagely till he was hilted inside her convulsively clenching bowels.
"Ahrrrr-oooh, pleeeease, ohh darling, it hurts, ohhhhh!"
His right hand moved between her shuddering, inflamed buttocks, his forefinger brushing the already throbbing, hardened lodestone of her clit.
"Oooooh! Ohh yes, yes!" Martha Foster's body jerked sporadically, her face lifting. Her eyes were starry now with her masochistic ecstasy, her nostrils wildly flaring, her mouth a smeared red O of fervent lust.
Groaning with his rut, Dr. Jason Lorton drew slowly back out of her tight, contracting rectal sheath, his fingers flattening her feverishly roused clit, and as she weaved and writhed, lunging violently back to his balls.
"Ohhahrrr oh God, oh fuck me hard, lover, I need it. Punish my naughty ass good and hard-ouuuuahhhhh-Give it to me good. Oh Jason, I'm such a wicked bitch I deserve to be punished-ahh-yes-yes, oh harder, faster, ream my asshole out, kill me with your great big prick, ohh lover, I wish I'd never married Abe, oh darling, why couldn't it have been you?"
"Maybe it will be one of these days if you behave yourself, bitch," he panted as he drove back to the roots, rubbing her clit this way and that, as Martha Foster wailed and sobbed in the throes of overwhelming ecstasy--. . .
CHAPTER SEVEN
Alma Bridges had been somewhat shocked by the amount of Dr. Jason Lorton's last bill, which had arrived in the mail this past Monday. Finding her own personal checking account balance lower than she had thought, she decided to wait till the first of May, by which time Douglas would have given her her allowance.
As for the latter, he seemed studiedly to have avoided her after his return on this latest trip, just as he had done the week before. There were several excellent reasons for this, one being the fact that Veronica Shelby's strong white teeth had left a very noticeable bite mark on his shoulder, which he did not care to have to explain to his decorous wife. Another was his mulling over his married life and coming to several conclusions, none of which he wanted to rush into without plenty of thought on the matter. And finally, there was Veronica herself.
He had paid her plane fare to Chicago and enough to stay for a week while she went for a job with his firm. He had dropped a word of recommendation into the ear of the personnel director. Forty-one-year-old Evan Bentley was a softspoken, introverted bachelor who, he personally knew, was a sentimentalist at heart and extremely fairminded when it came to giving a deserving applicant a chance. Veronica had been hired as a beginner in the steno pool, on a three-month probationary period and had started this very Monday. She had found herself a modestly priced small furnished apartment two miles away from the job. Last night, Thursday, having told Alma that he was going to do some work at the office on his reports, Douglas Bridges, with a very wary expression on his face and glancing back to make sure that no one was watching him enter the building, rang the bell opposite the nameplate of "V. Shelby" and was promptly admitted..
"Oh, Mr. Bridges, it was so thoughtful of you to come and see how I'm getting along!" she exclaimed as she met him at the door. He noticed she had changed her hairdo in favor of a simple short pageboy with curls turned under and was wearing a brown rayon dress whose skirt modestly ended at her knees. "Oh, and you brought me flowers and candy too. My goodness, it's like being courted-you shouldn't have-you've done so much for me already, I'll never be able to pay you back!"
"You already have, Ronnie. You know, I told you I was married. Well, that time with you was the first I'd ever been with anyone except Alma. I want to get back to her and maybe start all over again, so it can be the way it was with us that one time."
She touched his cheek lightly and smiled. "You will. You're awfully sweet. And I'm going to be a very good girl so they won't come back to you and say you recommended a cheap hustler, believe me, Doug. Next time, when I want to go to bed with a fellow, it'll be just because I want to, and not ever for money, 'cause not I can earn my own way-thanks to you."
"I'm very glad to hear that and I wish you all the happiness and good luck in the world, Ronnie. And now I'll be going-"
"Oh, not so soon! I want you to stay. And anyhow, I have to thank you for getting me this job. Mr.
Bentley was ever so nice to me, and he said if I was kept on after the three months, I'd get a raise. And I'm going to get it, you'll see."
"I know you are, Ronnie. But I still think-" She put her soft palm over his mouth and smiled teasingly at him. "That's your whole trouble, you think too much, darling. So all right, from now on, I'll be a good girl and behave myself, just like I told you. Only right now, here I am all alone in a big city and I don't know a soul except you. If it hadn't been for you, I'd still be back there maybe getting beaten up by those lugs, and anyhow-" she drew a deep breath and moved closer to him on the couch, "I need loving. Sort of to celebrate starting my new life, you might say. Please, darling?"
Douglas Bridges squirmed uneasily. "Look, Ronnie, you don't owe me a thing. All I did was put in a good word, and you'll hold the job on merit or not at all. And-well, that night, my God, no decent man measures things like that as payments-I'm actually indebted to you for the new outlook you gave me."
She giggled playfully as she slipped her hand to his fly and began to tug it down. "You're such a lovable square, Douglas Bridges. All right, then you can pretend you're carrying on a hot secret affair with a sexy girl at the office and your wife doesn't suspect a thing. If that doesn't get you hot and bothered, then I've lost my touch-oh no I haven't either! Just look at how big your cock is right this minute! I doubledare you to go home to your wife, darling!"
Before he could stop her-nor did he, excited and trembling as he was at that precise moment, really try to-Veronica Shelby had slithered down on her knees on the floor. She had drawn out his stiffened prick in both soft cupping hands and was lapping at the throbbing, taut-skinned glans with her moist, deliciously rasping tongue. She paused to look flirtatiously up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischievous delight, and whispered, "You say I showed you how to change your mind about women-well, lover, show me what you learned!"
Then dipping her head again, she busied herself furling her tongue all over the aching, hard glans of his frantically roused prick, her fingertips tickling his balls with an evanexcent caress that was maddening.
"Ronnie, no-I mean it-this isn't right-it's as if I brought you to Chicago to have an affair with you-no-please, honey," he hoarsely pleaded as for the last, wavering time he listened to the stern voice of conventional morality.
"Make me stop, then," she defied him with a merry little laugh, then took his prickhead between her lips and applied a noisy, lingering, sucking kiss to it.
"Damn it, I will, then," he panted. Reaching down and grabbing her by the armpits, Douglas Bridges hoisted her across his lap, yanked up her skirt and half-slip, his left arm pinning her supple waist. His eyes hypnotically fixed on her saucy bottomovals tightly snugged in white nylon panties, with the narrow tabs of matching garterbelt hugging her long sleek thighs above the beige nylons. Veronica Shelby, hands clasped before her, turned to look back at him, a mocking little smile on her soft red lips. "like what you see, honey?" she taunted.
For answer, he inserted his fingers under the waistband of the filmy sheath and yanked it down to midthigh, and then began to spank the resilient, pink-and-white-skinned oval globes, almost as if spitefully punishing her for having seduced him out of marital fidelity. Veronica hissingly sucked in her breath, bowed her hand, restleesly her long slim fingers. Relaxing her muscles and compressing her lips she passively submitted. But her hips began to weave slowly and tantalizingly back and forth over his lap, and his stiffened prick felt the exacerbating friction of her belly and the soft silky curls of her cuntal fleece. Stifling a groan of torment, he accelerated the spanks, till Veronica began to gasp and squirm uneasily, glancing feverishly back. Her bottom was now flaming like a summer sunset, her lovely long legs beginning to kick up and down.
'There," he panted, suddenly ruefully contrite as he saw the angrily reddened, swollen globes shudder, contract and yawn and heard her muffled sobs. "I didn't mean to spank so hard, honey. But you had it coming."
No sooner had he let her up than Veronica stumbled to her feet, pulled off dress and half-slip tugged down her panties and stepped out of them. Then she sank down on her knees before him and, her hand squeezing his knees, huskily murmured, "I got spanked for being so naughty, lover, so now the least you can do is let me be really naughty-and then, if you want, you can give me another spanking."
"Ronnie-you-my God-ohh!" he groaned in agonized consternation, for she had reached out to fondle his heavy prick, then nimbly squirmed forward and opened her mouth to accept nearly half, and began to suck with lascivious noisiness.
With a cry of passionate capitulation to her seductive wiles, Douglas Bridges pushed her away, knelt down, seized her by the shoulders and flung her down on her back on the carpeted floor. Mounting her, he thrust to the balls in a single delving stroke, as her long legs wound possessively round his thighs and her arms clenched over his shoulders. "Ohh, yes, yes Doug, fuck me hard now, oooh my poor bottom's so sore, make me wiggle and rub it so it'll hurt and punish me some more for being so naughty to you-ahh-oh that's so good, lover-mmm. Oh you're going to make me cum right away-oooh, yes, yes, tickle my clit too, ohh sweetheart, you really didn't forget Ronnie's lesson, did you? Ahh, oh darling-yes, yes, ohh hurry, fuck, fuck-harder-oh sweetheart, yes, yes, ohh cum with Ronnie, cum with your naughty Ronnie nowohhhh ahhh darling darling-cummmmmmeeeeohhhhh-yes-ohhhhhh, darling, nowwww!"
And that was still another reason why Douglas Bridges did not share his wife's bed this Thursday night.
"Now there's no reason to be embarrassed, Miss Bridges," Dr. Jason Lorton was smiling benignly at the blushing, self-conscious teenaged redhead who stood, irresolute, at the edge of the screen, having just been told to undress for this Friday afternoon examination. "After all, your mother has perfect confidence in me. Try to forget I'm a man, if that bothers you."
"All-all right," Phyllis Bridges stammered. She had, after agreeing to visit her mother's doctor, at first determined to ask him some very intimate questions about things that were bothering hersuch as how to lose her virginity without running the risk of pregnancy. But now that she was alone with the suave, black-haired gynecologist, she began to wish she had worn a dress instead of going right from school in her everyday jeans and blouse, anklet socks and tennies. "Do you want me-I mean, what-what should I take off?"
"Your lower clothes, my dear," he said genially. "Now try to remember that as a doctor, I'm examining you just as a patient, and I'm not looking at you the way a man would. Will that help?"
Her face flamed as she mumbled, "I-I guess so," and disappeared behind the screen. Hesitantly, she unbuttoned her blouse, then thought better of it and rebuttoned it. Next, her blushes deepening, she squirmed out of the tight jeans, after first scuffing off her tennies. Then, even more hesitantly, she hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her snug pink cotton knit panties. Drawing a deep breath, she decisively yanked them down with a gasp at her own bravado. Her eyes widened to be reminded of the abundant, thick dark-red silky cuntal curls, and she at once pressed a perspiration-moist palm over them as she reluctantly emerged from behind the screen.
"That's fine, Miss Bridges. Now just get onto the table and put your feet through those stirrups. I'm sure you're a very healthy normal young lady, and I'll try to make this as quick as possible for you."
"T-thanks, Doctor," Phyllis nervously stammered, moving quickly to the padded examining table and clambering onto it, then hooking her heels through the stirrups. She retained the shield of her palm over her tender virgin cunt as she saw him approach. Gosh, he's awfully good-looking. Wonder how Mom felt when she had to strip down for him to examine her? Golly, I wonder if I dare ask him about if a girl can safely go all the way with a fellow she really-likes without marrying him? I just have to find out about some things, though. I've been dreaming about Bill in my sleep-and-and playing with my p-pussy when I see us doing it in my dream-Ohh, now he's coming over to me. He's going to look into my pussy and see everything I've got-I'm blushing like a kid-I can't help it-my legs are spread so open-oh my!
"Now just try to relax, my dear. If you like, you may keep your eyes closed, but I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to take your hand away," he chuckled gen-tly.
Phyllis Bridges took another deep breath and then, with the air of a Christian martyr at the stake, clenched both fists at her side and shiveringly submitted herslef. Naked from belly to ankles, she had closed her eyes. She did not see how the womanizing gynecologist stared with glittering eyes at her furry cunt and the ripely rounded thighs with their pale-white, rosy-flecked smooth palpitating skin. He drew on a pair of rubber gloves, took the tube of K-Y jelly and, bending over the quivering, tense adolescent girl, very gently lubricated the petulantly closed, delicate lips of her vulva.
"Oooh!" Phyllis involuntarily wriggled. She opened her eyes wide, glancing down at herself. "It-it tickles!"
"Naturally, it's the most sensitive part of your body, my dear." he said softly as he reached for the speculum, then carefully inserted it.
"Oooh, it's so cold!" Phyllis half-sat up, her fists at her heaving tits.
"Now, it's out. You're a virgin, of course, as I expected. I'd say you're a very healthy specimen, young lady. Now, of few questions-do you have any boyfriends?"
"One, sort of, Doctor." Phyllis again put her hand over her furry cunt and blushed furiously again as she saw his eyes fix on her protective hand.
"That's to be expected. You're past sixteen, and judging from your very attractive figure, I'd say they're-likely to be standing in line for you, Miss Bridges."
I like his calling me that, it sounds so grownup. Gosh, I feel funnier than when Tommy was in my room.. . He's a grownup man even if he is a doctor, and he looks so, well, sexy, with that cute moustache. I know he's looking at my bare legs. I'm glad he-likes my figure-he said it was attractive. I-I wonder what it would be like if a man like him wanted to neck with me . . . or . . . or even go the limit! Oh my golly, my p-pussy's starting to tickle . . . it's from that stuff he rubbed on, but just the same-
"Now then, Miss Bridges, you say you have this one boyfriend. Have you and he had any-shall we say-physical relationship? You understand what I mean: kissing, petting."
"Oh-well, yeah, sure-a little, I mean." The red-haired teenager squirmed uneasily on the table, huddling her bare thighs and pressing her palm down even more tightly over her quivering cunt. "Is-is that wrong, Doctor?"
He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Not necessarily, so long as you don't go off the deep end. You see, Miss Bridges, I'm not a puritanical moralist. I think young people ought to learn about sex and find out how enjoyable it can be when both partners respect each other. Also, they ought to be informed enough to keep from making a tragic mistake."
"You-you do? Then-then it wouldn't be wrong-if-well, say I had sex with Bill-my boy friend?" her voice was edged with curiosity.
"Not if you both took proper precautions, had control of yourselves, and didn't try to have a sneaky affair behind your parents' backs, no."
"Hey," Phyllis suddenly sat up, putting both palms down on the table, momentarily forgetting to cover her plump soft cunt, "you really mean that, don't you, Doctor? But-well, I'm a virgin, like you just said-so how could Tommy and I go the limit? Anyhow, he doesn't want to take my-I mean, be the first fellow with me. I guess maybe it would hurt some, wouldn't it?"
Dr. Lorton smilingly shook his head. "Any doctor can make a simple incision in the hymen. Matter of fact, my dear, many young brides have that done before the wedding night, so as to eliminate the embarrassment and inconvenience. You see, having a maidenhead as a symbol of virginity is a medieval idea, but it's certainly outmoded today."
"Gee! And-and it wouldn't hurt, and after that, a girl and a guy could have-have sex, all the way, huh?" she was sideeyed withingenuous curiosity even though her blushes spread.
"That's right, my dear. The girl could either take the pill or use an IUD-that's a little disc that fits over the opening of the womb to prevent conception. Personally, I favor the latter, because there have been too many unpleasant side effects from the pill."
Again Phyllis Bridges drew a deep breath and again, quite heedless of her enticing exposure, stammered, "Could you-I mean, would you-you know-do that for me, Doctor Lorton? I-I have an allowance saved up, Mom or Dad wouldn't have to pay for it. And-I wouldn't want them to know anyhow. Not that I'm going to have lots of affairs, you know. It's just-well, darn it, I think I'm old enough to decide if I want sex or not."
He had moved closer to the table. "I think you are too, Phyllis dear. Arid I'd say this Bill, whoever he is, is going to be a very lucky young man to get you as his sweetheart. I wish I were in his place, to tell the truth."
Oh my goodness, I can't believe he said that-but he did, he thinks I'm sexy and cute and he-he'd like to have sex with me-oh my, my p-pussy is tickling something awful right now, and I'm naked down there and he's looking at me again-
"I-I sort of wish you were too, D-Doctor," she tremulously murmured, her ripe young tits rising and falling erratically.
"Phyllis, what a lovely thing to say-but you hardly know me-"
"But-but you're a doctor, and you could do it to a girl so she wouldn't ever get into trouble, and it's be so exciting-and I've always dreamed of having-of having a real goodlooking man, a grownup man like you, do-do it to me the first time-oh my gosh, you won't tell Mom what I just said?" she put a hand to her mouth and recoiled, as the audacity of her impulsive words suddenly dawned on her.
For answer, the suave gynecologist moved beside her, put his left arm round her shoulders and kissed her gently on the mouth. Phyllis gasped and started, her eyes widening feverishly, then spontaneously flung her arms round his neck and returned his kiss with an emotional verve that made his prick start to swell and ache. His right hand glided down her belly to the thickly thatched soft plump virgin mound of her cunt, his fingertips trailing lightly over the twitching lips.
"Ohh-mmm-ohh, you-you tickle so nice," Phyllis breathed when the kiss ended. "Are you going to-to do it to me?"
"You really want me to, darling?"
"Uh huh!"
"First, though, I'd have to make the incision, and we'd have to wait a few days till it healed."
"Then-then go ahead and do it-and maybe next week, after school, I could come here, Dr. Lorton d-darling?" she breathed, hugging him agian and pressing her moist red lips on his.
His forefinger stealthily began to tickle her cuntal lips, rimming the petulant, stickied labia of the vulva, then moved to the urethral fissure and, brushing the dainty little hole, lifted to her clit and lihgeringly stroked it.
"Ooooh, that's lovely-ohh, that sends me-can I call you Jason, just like if we were sweetheartsooooh, it's even nicer than with Bill-"
"Of course you can call me Jason, Phyllis sweetheart. You're such a passionate girl, dearest. Yes, I definitely think it would be the best thing to settle your nerves." His forefinger pressed her swelling clit down, then let it spring back up, and Phyllis Bridges moaned and delved her pert tongue between his lips, squirming her hips back and forth on the table, her socks-clad toes curling and twisting feverishly in her rising sensual excitement.
"All right, honey, don't get so excited," he soothingly urged as he gently disengaged her arms. "Now lie down and I'll do what you want. It'll be over in a jiffy-and it won't hurt any more than the prick of a needle."
"Oh yes, Jason, oh I want to have you do it to meto do everything!" she rapturously sighed as she lay back, digging her fingernails into the table as she watched him sterilize the scalpel, prepare a medicated swab, and then bend over her. "I-I'm ready-I'll be brave-oooooh, that stings-ohh, ohh, it does-"
"Shh, darling, it's done . . . now I'll sponge it and put some ointment. . . there. It'll be better in a few minutes," he straightneed, smiling at her.
Phyllis wriggled uneasily, her forehead creased at the unexpected twinge of pain, which now began to recede. Then she giggled. "Golly, I just thought, Jason-I'm not a virgin now, only I still am, really, aren't I?"
He put his hands on her shoulders, bent to kiss each of her panting young tits at their firm-nippled centers. "Technically you still are, but you and I will take care of that next week, angel. Now you call me. If Miss Naughton should answer, just tell her you want to call back at a certain time to find out about your tests, and leave your phone number. I'll call you right back and set a time. It'll be our little secret."
Phyllis slid down from the table, crimson to her dainty little ears. She hugged him passionately, pressing her naked loins against the rigid projection at his smock, beneath which his trouser fly bulged violently. Then, daringly, she drew her right hand down to him and slyly pinched the tip of that throbbing rigidity through the smock. "Ohh, I can't wait till you put that into my pussy, Jason darling. Now I'll go dress. I-I'll tell Mom you think I'm all right, hm?"
"Very much all right, you sexy little devil!" He blew her a kiss as she gigglingly hurried behind the screen.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Douglas Bridges had to leave for St. Louis the Monday morning after his daughter's examination and told Alma he expected to be home Thursday evening. Before he took a cab out to O'Hare International Airport, however, he remembered that he had left some vital correspondence with the production manager of the new St. Louis account in a large brown manila envelope he had put into the drawer of the cherrywood secretary in the living room. Alma was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for Phyllis, who was slightly late for school.
As he opened the drawer and rummaged for the envelope, then drew it out, a small white envelope came out on top of it and fell onto the open desk. The sender was a Dr. Jason Lorton in the Garfield Building. Puzzled, he opened it and saw a bill made out to Mrs. Alma Bridges in the amount of $150 for IUD and therapeutic vaginal treatment, with the words, "Second examination" typed in below the two items. "That's damned odd," he said to himself, "Alma didn't tell me about any female trouble, and I never heard of this doctor before. We usually go to Dr. Hardwick. Well, I'll ask her about it when I get home." Replacing the bill in the envelope and returning it to the drawer, he put the manila jenvelope in his briefcase, picked up his suitcase and left the house.
"Jason, a Phyllis Bridges called you this noon. She said something about wanting to find out about her tests from last Friday, and that she'd be back from school at three-thirty if you want to call her back. That's Alma Bridges' daughter, isn't it, Jason?" Lucille Naughton, her cap off and lolling at her ease in the swivel chair before her employer's desk in his examining room, regarded him intently.
"Oh yes, the tests. Yes, you're right, she's Alma's daughter," he said casually as he crushed out his cigarette. He then glanced at his Swiss wristwatch, a gift from Martha Foster just last week and sent over by messenger from Peacock's Jewelers. "It's two-fifteen now. I'll call her."
"I can do that for you, darling. I mean, just tell me what the tests showed and I can tell her," Lucille offered.
"No, she's very shy and I think she d rather hear it from me."
Her cat-green eyes narrowed. "What's the matter with the little bitch? Don't tell me she's preggie or has a dose?"
"Of course not. It was just a routine examination at her mother's request. I swear, Lucille, you're getting bitchier every day. I'm going to have to take stern measures with you if you keep that up."
She reached out to stroke his prick through his fly as she wheedlingly cajoled, "Oh, lover, be as stern with me as you want. Why don't we close the office right now and you spank me good and hard and then fuck hell out of me?"
"Because you've got to go to the Holmwood and Snyder Laboratories before the day's over, that's why. And here's the tabulated list of billings on each. Just check them over with their tallies to make sure they aren't holding back any of my split, understand, Lucille? You'd better get going if you expect to be back by five."
"Oh all right," she said sulkily as she rose and shoved her nurse's cap down at a rakish angle, glaring at him. "But I'd still like to know what's so special about that little bitch's tests you have to call yourself. That's part of my job, Jason."
"Now all of a sudden you're quibbling about details, baby," he patted her breast with an engaging smile. "What's really part of your job and the best part, the one I need you most for, honey, is collecting the swag. Remember, it's for both of us when we can pack up and leave this town. Then maybe we'll take a year or two off in Maui or even Hong Kong-would you like that, Lucille?"
She sighed raptly, her eyes growing soft and ardent. "You know I would, Jason. All right, I'll go do my job. See you about five, lover. All forgiven?"
He blew her a kiss as she left his examining room, then scowled and lit a cigarette. It was a damn shame that red-haired sexpot couldn't make it in here right now. It would have to be a quickie, more's the pity. By the time she got here from home even in a cab, it'd be four o'clock, and he'd have to make sure she left the office a good deal ahead of five so that jealous blonde didn't see her.
"I-I took a cab, just like you said, J-Jason," Phyllis Bridges excitedly gasped as she opened the door of the examining room and hurried to him as he stood waiting, wearing only his white smock, shoes and socks. "Oh, I couldn't concentrate on school at all, all day, darling! All I could think about was being with you, being your girl. Mom's at an old school friend's for the afternoon, and she told me this morning she might even stay there for supper, that's why I called your office at noon, just the way you said. Ohh, are you really-really going-going to h-have me?"
"Yes, you lovely, adorable creature," his glittering eyes swept her, and Phyllis Bridges blushed and lowered her eyes. She had dressed in a white blouse, blue cotton skirt, and, wanting to look as mature as she could for this memorable occasion, bought a pair of flesh-toned nylons the day before and a pink satin-elastic garter belt to hold them up, completing the ensemble with a pair of her best Sunday suede pumps.
"Sh-shall I take my clothes off, darling, or-or do you want to undress your girl?" she faintly stammered in a last access of virginal self-consciousness.
"I'll do it, Phyllis dearest. And then, of course, before we can make love, I'll insert that IUD I told you about, so there'll be no danger."
Oh my, it's really going to happen!I'm going to be naked and he's going to go all the way with me. I'll be a woman just like Mom, and then, if Bill wants to do it to me, I can tell him I'm not cherry any more!
Ohh, he's so romantic, Jason is-he's kissing my eyes and now he's taking off my blouse and my skirt-ohh, now he's got his hand on my bbreasts-Ifeelso hot, evenmore than when Bill was with me in the bedroom! Ohh-he took my bra off, he's kissing me there . . . he's sucking my . . . my nipples . . . ohh, it really sends me-this is so much more exciting when a grownup man does it than jus t a boy like Bill-His tongue's rubbing my nipples now, they 're getting so s tiff and they ache and tickle all at the same time-Now he's taking off my panties, and kneeling down and-and-OHHHHHH he's kissing my p-pussy, so softly and sweetly, my legs are trembling so and my pussy's getting so hot and w-wet too! All I've got on are my garterbelt and nylons and best pumps, and I feel lots sexier than if I was all bare-naked! Ohhh, now he's putting his tongue right-right on my b-button, ohhh, Ifeelso faint, I'm just shivering all over, ohh I want him to put his c-cock into my pussy right now, I'm so hot, I-I want to be f-f-fucked!
"Now, my darling, my lovely red-haired sweet princess, let me lift you onto the table, and I'll get you all ready so we can make love. I want your very first time to be beautiful for you, Phyllis darling."
"Oh y-yes, ohh Jason, hurry-I-I want you so much," she gasped, swaying as he stooped to pick her up in his arms and carry her over to the table.
Swiftly taking one of the little prophylactics from a plastic tube and donning his rubber gloves, he gently spread apart her twitching milky-sheened thighs, while she covered her blushing face with her hands, her beautiful lush young naked tits rising and falling turbulently. Then, very defty, he inserted the IUD as the teenaged girl moaned and squirmed her loins as if wanting him to finger-fuck her. Her face turned from side to side as her erotic attunement swirled within her ardently wakened cunt.
"There now, my darling. And we'll be much more comfortable on the couch. I'll just carry you there, my wonderful little sweetheart," he huskily murmured as he lifted her. Phyllis Bridges' satiny arms clung almost desperately to his shoulders as she stared into his suave, satyr-like face, her nostrils twitching and shrinking. As they neared the couch, she kicked off her pumps, then lifted her flushed face to kiss him feverishly on the mouth.
He laid her down gently, then knelt down on the floor beside her, his fingers lightly caressing her belly and hips and the insides of her thighs. The teenaged red-haired girl shivered excitedly, drawing up one dimpled knee to gape the soft pink lips of her eager young cunt. She reached out with her right hand to stroke his bowed head, as if to reassure him that her adolescence imposed no carnal restraint on him now. Nor did it. Phyllis Bridges was inwardly seething with a fervent young lust and intense curiosity to know at last the elusive mystery which would make her as knowledgeable as Sue Randall and Margie Inniston. Better still, her egoistic psyche could triumphantly proclaim a superiority over Sue, for Sue's lover had been only a chauffeur, while hers was to be a handsome doctor who dealt only with women. Margie's partner had been young Bill Carter.
"You've the most beautiful breasts and legs, my darling," he murmured, bending his head to press his moist warm lips on her wide shallow navel. Phyllis gasped with pleasure at the tickling sensation as well as at his daring. She lowered her knee, her bottom squirming fitfully against the thickly padded couch, her hands reaching up to cup her own panting tits.
His fingers stroked her bare quivering sides, up to the outer curves of her tits, then lingeringly descended to the rounded, vibrant hips. His lips brushed her lower abdomen, and she could feel his warm quick breath against the thickening dark-red silky curls of her cuntal fleece. She closed her eyes and moaned softly, giving herself up unabashedly to the myriad, tumultuous sensations that were seething within her. Her palms convulsively pressed harder against her shuddering tits as the pulsebeat in the milky hollow of her throat began, to throb and quicken.
"Ohh, Jason, it's so lovely," she huskily murmured, in a kind of exquisite, anticipatory reverie. How right she'd been to have a real man give it to her for the very first time-even Bill's unexpected gentleness in his game of sixty-nine couldn't compare with this thrilling preparation. And the most exciting part of it all had been keeping her secret about their meeting here all through the weekend and the first days at school this week and thinking about what he was going to do and how she would feel.
Suddenly her eyes opened wide and her body jerked uncontrollably. He had grasped her upper thighs and gently forced them apart, and then impressed a slow, tantalizingly light kiss on the very center of her twitching pink cunt. "Ohh, JJason darling-oh, it's so good! I-I love you something awful!" she moaned, thrusting her fists down against the surface of the couch and arching herself up to urge him to continue this delicious attune ment.
His lips moved over her twitching cunt, rising to the dainty soft cowl of her clit. Then, without warning, she felt the stab of his tongue tip against the throbbing lodestone, shoving it back down, then releasing it. "Ouuuuuuuu! Ohhh that's wonderful, ohh darling, darling, please-please h-hurry and do it to me, I'm so hot I have to have it!" she feverishly moaned, turning her flushed face this way and that, her small ripe mouth trembling, her fists rubbing back and forth along the couch. As she tautened and writhed her lush young body, she could feel the biting cling of the garterbelt tabs against her flexing thighs. There was an ungovernable, moist warm tingling deep inside her cuntal sheath.
Now his tongue flicked against her lower abdomen, tangling in the dark-red silky curls, then swooped down to the petulant labia of the soft vulva. Phyllis squealed ecstatically, lifting her head to stare through misty, dilated eyes at his bowed head, at his wiry fingers so delicately plying her hips and inner thighs with evanescent caresses.
"Oh pi-please-do it now!" she gasped frantically, her young senses in hot, agitated turmoil.
He straightened, pulled off the smock, and Phyllis uttered a startled "Oooooh!" at the sight of his stiff, big, throbbing prick. The glans was menacingly projected, the meatus lips puckering with the urge to spurt. It's bigger than Bill's, oh my Lordie, I wonder if it 'll go in to my lit tie pussy even if he took my cherry away last Friday-oh my, I'm actually going to be-fucked-I hope he'll like doing it to me-He must have doneit to lots and lots of women, and I'm just sixteen-but ooh, nobody could want it any more than I do right this secondand-and I'm not scared at all, 'cause he's a doctor and he made sure I wouldn't get into trouble, so I can enjoy doing it, just like he said-ohh. Now he's taking a tube of something and rubbing it all over his big c-cock! Oh my-now he's coming back to me-I feel sort of scared, maybe a little, but ohh, I can hardly wait to feel what it'll be like inside my little pussy!
"Phyllis darling, I'm going to make love to you now, my dearest," Dr. Jason Lorton knelt down on the couch, his hands gliding over her stockinged calves and knees, his eyes feasting on her sulky, sen-sual, flushed face. Her tits were swelling tumultuously, their rosy buds duskier and stiffer now with longing, her smooth pale-white belly quivering, and the moist lavia twitching in her delicious, inviting cunt.
"Oh y-yes-Jason, oh do it to me, hurry, piplease!" she breathed, reaching her arms out to him.
He moved between her eagerly parted plump shivering thighs, supporting himself on his palms on either side of her shoulders, then lowered his loins till his heavy glistening taut glans brushed the twitching lips of her vulva. "Ohhh!" Phyllis gasped, squirming restlessly, then arching up her hips to grant him an intuitive carte blanche to be fucked.
Unerringly, his prickhead pried open the soft pink cuntal lips and slid carefully inside the lob-byway of her yearning, moist cuntal sheath. Phyllis stiffened, caught her breath, her eyes widely dilated and wonderingly fixed on that conjunction between his hard big prick and her soft tender cunt.
"Does it hurt at all, darling?" he solicitously murmured.
She shook her head, shaken by a convulsive tremor. "Oooh, n-no, oh, no, Jason darling! Not a bit-oh hurry and-and put it all the way into my pussy, I'm going just crazy for it!"
Tensing himself, the black-haired gynecologist pressed homeward, inch by slow deliberate inch, gasping at the exquisite cohesion of her tight young humid cuntal walls against his imbedding prick. Phyllis moaned deliriously, tilting back her head till her milky throat was a taut pure arc of quivering young satiny flesh. Her tits were rising and falling voluminously, and her hands opened to dig her fingernails into the yielding surface of the thickly padded couch. "Ohh-ahh-ohh it's so good! Sooooo good! I can feel you-stretching me wide open in my p-pussy-is it good for you, Jason my d-darling? Oh, does your big c-cock like my little p-pussy? Oh, I can see it's almost all the way inside me-ohh my-ahh-ohh Jason, is my pussy nice for you, is it, dearest darling Jason?" she huskily panted, her head turning from side to side.
"It's wonderful, Phyllis, it's marvelous with you-now I want to hold you while I love you," he gasped as he settled himself down on her shivering lush young nakedness. Her arms frantically flung round his shoulders as his hairy chest flattened her exuberantly surging tits. Their flinted dusky-coral points rasped him thrillingly, and her stockinged legs, again driven by an intuition as old as Eve, swung up and over his sinewy thighs to lock him to her young churning saddle.
His mouth came down hard on hers and she uttered a happy little whimpering sigh. Ohh now I'm really being f-fucked, his cock's f-fucking my little p-pussy, ohh it's so heavenly, I never thought it could be so heavenly-I'm glad Ididn't let Bill ttake my c-cherry-ohh, ohh, I can feel his cock way down deep inside of my pussy, and my pussy's kissing him back, yet it is-ooooohhh, I'm as grownup as Mom now, and he-likes my pussy, he said so, and oh how my pussy loves his great big hard cock!
For himself, Dr. Jason Lorton found that the teenager's passionately constricting, furiously seething tight young cunt was proving a greater tax on his powers of self-control than he had supposed, virgin though she was. He had to grind his teeth and immobilize himself and think distractingly of laboratory fees and his plans for the lucrative future lest he burst prematurely into the ardent red-haired girl's clamping hot young cuntal sheath.
At last regaining mastery of his powers, he began slowly to draw back, rasping Phyllis' tender, wakened cuntal crannies and drawing sobbing little cries from the writhing, squirming, frantically eager teenager. "Oh-ahh-Jason-do it-oh harder-I want your cock to f-fuck my p-pussy harder-ahh, oh d-darling, it's so wonderful, I have to have it harder now, oh do it to my pussy, do it harder, pi-pleeeeease!"
His prick retreating to the very brink of her torrid cunt, he set his teeth and thrust back to the hilt in a single impaling lunge. Her fingernails raked his shoulders, her mouth crushed to his, her thighs tightened their possessively clenching hold as she arched to him, grinding her pelvic basin to his to take the finite last inch of his surging, virile prick into her now furiously rapacious moist young cunt.
His hands slipped under her bottom, kneading and squeezing the quaking round satiny cheeks as he drew back halfway, suspended himself there in that tight, clinging moist pink maw of tender girl-cunt, then shoved back to the balls. Phyllis wailed aloud in her maddened rapture, hugging him fren-ziedly with all the strength of her arms and legs. Her tits mashed against his panting chest.
Engrossed in each other as they were at this moment, neither saw nor heard the slight opening of the door to the examining room. Lucille Naughton peered inside, and then her cat-green eyes narrowed vindictively and her small ripe mouth twisted in a spiteful grimace as she moved back and let the door close as silently as it had opened.
"Ohh-ahh-ohh, Jason, hurry-ohh, I feel so funny, so wonderful-oh my darling-oh my l-lover-yes, you're my darling dearest lover. Oh fuck me and don't ever stop, hurry-harder, ahh-yes, oouuuuu, faster, ohh sweetheart oh Jason now ohh yes ohhhh ohhh my pussy's burning upahhheeeeeeee, ohhh Jason ohhh Lordie Lordie, ohh my darling ahhhh!" her voice rose to a shrill, explosive inchoate cry of indescribable carnal ecstasy as her body bucked and ground and twisted under his, and Dr. Jason Lorton, with a bellow of frenzied rapture, felt himself explode deep inside Phyllis Bridges' churning, quaking cunt.
CHAPTER NINE
Phyllis Bridges had been reluctant to leave Dr. Jason Lorton's office so soon, and had, indeed, pleaded with him to do it to her again. But a glance at his wristwatch had told him it was a quarter of five and Lucille Naughton was due back any minute. Consolingly, he reassured her that they would meet again very soon when they could spend more time with each other. He solicitously helped her to dress, praising her luscious young charms and kissing her till she was more than mollified over being sent away so quickly. No sooner had she left his office than he hurriedly dressed, then drew back on the white smock, lit a cigarette with fingers that trembled, and sat down at his desk to occupy himself with the billings.
A few minutes later, Lucille Naughton entered. "Finished my errands, Jason darling," she said jauntily. "You'll be happy to know that Holmwood and Snyder Labs show exactly the billing figures you do. And they said their checks would be ready Monday. I brought along their adding machine tab slips, just to show you."
He rose, crushed out his cigarette and kissed her gently. "That's my girl, honey. Tell you what, how'd you like to have dinner with me at the Blackhawk?"
Lucille, contrary to her wont, did not put her arms around him. But she was smiling fondly at him as she murmured, "That'll be nice, darling. It's about time you showed me some attention. Did the girl pass her tests?"
"Oh yes," he shrugged. "With flying colors. Come on, let's close the office and go eat. I'm starved."
"D-Daddy-wh-what are you doing home-I thought you'd be back tomorrow!" Phyllis gasped as she let herself in the front door of the ranchtype house. Douglas Bridges was on the living room couch, reading some notes he'd dictated to a public stenographer in St. Louis.
"Hi, kitten. I finished a day earlier, that's all. What's the matter, tired of your old father already?" he chuckled as he got to his feet. Then his eyes widened. "Say now, since when did your mother let you wear nylons? You're all dolled up. You didn't wear that outfit to school did you?"
"Y-yes, I did, Daddy. I-I had to go to the doctor after school, that's why," Phyllis blushed before her father's level gaze.
"Dr. Hardwick? Why, what's the matter, honey? Virus or something?" he sympathetically asked.
"Er-n-no, Daddy. It was Dr. Lorton," Phyllis uneasily stammered.
His eyebrows arched. "Dr. Lorton-seems to me your mother's been going to him too. Why did you go, honey?"
Phyllis bit her lips, shifted from pump to pump nervously, stared studiedly down at the floor. "Well, Mom thought I was old enough to have a checkup. You know."
"I see. Well, I'll talk to her when she gets home. By the way, where is she?"
"Over visiting Mrs. Hanley, Daddy. She said she might not be home for supper, though."
"I see. Tell you what, honey, I'm not a bad short-order cook, and if there's anything tasty in the frig, why don't I fix us both supper?"
Phyllis sighed inaudibly with relief at having the subject of her medical checkup so easily dropped. "That'd be fine, Daddy. I know we've got eggs, and there's still some of Mom's pot roast from Sunday."
"Great! Let's you and I go raid the kitchen, then, kitten."
After supper, Douglas Bridges had given his precocious red-haired daughter a five-dollar bill and told her to go to the corner movie and enjoy the double feature and then stop off for a soda or anything else she wanted. Since movies on week nights before school had been a distinct no-no in her life till now, Phyllis was far too overjoyed to ponder on her strangely affable father's eagerness to get her out of the house till what would certainly be nearly eleven o'clock. She gave him a kiss almost as affectionate as the ones she had bestowed on Dr. Jason Lorton and, quite proud of her pretty skirt and new nylons and tingling inwardly with the smug knowledge that she was now a fullfledged woman, scurried off to the Adelphi to see two "PG-rated" films. The bored cashier took her for eighteen and accepted the five-dollar bill without comment.
Douglas Bridges, having taken off his tie and unbottoned his shirt, lit a cigar, another novelty in the ranch-type house, for Alma detested cigar smoke, and made himself comfortable in the big easy chair which faced the front door. He then flipped through the pages of the latest issue of Hustler Magazine which he had picked up at the airport on his way back home.
It was a little after nine when the key turned in the front-door lock and Alma Bridges entered. She did a double-take when she saw him sitting there, clouds of cigar smoke ascending to the ceiling-he was on his third cigar-and uttered a plaintive cry, "Douglas, you know perfectly well how allergic I am to cigar smoke! Why, the house stinks of it!"
"You mean you're not glad to see me, honey?" the amused sarcasm of his tone was lost on her; understandably, since till tonight he had always seemed to defer to her wishes and to be mildly complaisant.
"Yes, yes, though I didn't expect you till tomorrow, Douglas. Oh, for pity's sakes, won't you put out that awful cigar and open the windows or something? I shall have a dreadful headache."
"Never mind the cigar, Alma. Take your coat and hat off and sit down over on the couch. I want to talk to you."
The attractive dark-brown-haired housewife fretfully complied, grimacing as the strongly redolent smoke reached her nostrils, and nervously sat down on the edge of the couch. Absently she tugged down her brown cotton skirt which had fucked up to just above her delightfully dimpled, rounded knees sheathed in sheer beige nylons. "What is it, Douglas? Aren't you going to open the windows? The air ought to be cleared before we go to bed."
"That's exactly what I've been thinking sitting here waiting for you."
"W-what did you say?" her eyes went wide with vexation.
"You heard me, Alma. First off, who's this Dr. Jason Lorton you've been seeing? And why did Phyllis have to go to him this afternoon?"
"T-this afternoon?" Alma Bridges echoed in a startled tone, "why, I don't know, Douglas. She went there last Friday for a checkup."
"I see. He's a gynecologist, isn't he?"
Alma flushed hotly and lowered her eyes. Her husband's usually mild brown eyes were twinkling behind his glasses and there was a wry little smile on his lips. "W-why, yes he is, Douglas," she stammered. "I don't really see why it should concern you. Women often go to doctors like that when they reach my age, and as a mother, I wanted to have Phyllis examined to make sure she's quite normal and healthy."
"Very commendable of you. But I happen to think this doctor's fees are out of line. Considerably out of line, Alma. What was so complicated about your second examination that he had to charge you $150 for it? My firm employs a small medical staff for our female as well as male workers, and I'm somewhat familiar with basic examination and test charges. Therapeutic vaginal treatment, wasn't it for? And some prescription, whatever that was."
"Ohh!" her face was a fiery-red." You-you've been snooping on me-that bill-"
"That bill happened to be in the drawer where I kept my reports, and I found it quite by accident. I assure you, my dear, I'm only curious as to why you had to have a second examination-though I admit I'd like to know why you picked this Dr. Lorton instead of our regular family physician."
Alma Bridges was squirming uneasily on the edge of the couch, her guilty secret beginning to agitate her before her husband's unexpected persistence and sarcastic attack on her. With a choking sob, she blurted out, "B-because you said I was frigid, that's why! How do you think I felt to have my own husband call me that? So I went there because Martha Foster told me what a marvelous specialist he is with women who-who have ssexual problems-and he said I wasn't frigid at all-quite the contrary and he-he-ohhh!"
"I begin to get the picture. Correct me if I'm wrong, Alma. He fucked you that second time you visited him, didn't he? And then had the gall to charge you for his studding services. I think the AMA would be greatly interested in his unorthodox medical practices, to say nothing of his outlandish charges.
Her mouth had dropped open to hear him make that vulgar accusation, and since it happened to be unerringly accurate, it made her blushes spread to her forehead and ears as well. He got up from the armchair and walked over to the couch, bent and seized her by the wrist. "Come on, young lady, we're going to get to the bottom of things around here," he declared in a crisp, authoritative tone the like of which she had never before heard from his lips.
"W-what's got into you, Douglas? Where are you taking me?" she gasped. He strode down the hallway towards their bedroom, while Alma protested and tried to drag back but to no avail. Pulling her inside the room and closing the door, he forced her over to the bed, sat down and flung her over his lap.
"Stop it! Nooo! What are you doing? Have you gone crazy?" she cried out, kicking her nylon-sheathed legs frantically and trying to break his hold of her waist. Still without a word, Douglas Bridges, tightening the grip of his left arm to pinion her in position, seized the hem of her brown bottom skirt with his other hand and yanked it summarily up above her waist.
"Well now, that's a great improvement over your usual bulky girdle, Alma," he chuckled as, to her utter consternation, he began to unfasten the gar-tertabs and then the waistband itself, then yanked the sheath down to the hollows of her writhing knees.
"Ohhhhhhhh! What are you doing? Douglas Bridges, you stop this ridiculous behavior this instant, do you hear-or-or I'll divorce you, yes, I will-I know somebody else would marry me and treat me lovingly and-OWWWW!"
Her hips jerked wildly as his right palm came down with a noisy Smack against the ripest curve of her right bottomcheek. She turned a consternated, flushed face back to him, absolutely thunderstruck by his violently irrational actions. "H-how dare you humiliate me this way, Douglas Bridges? Isn't it enough you-you insult me as a woman andowwww ohhh. Stop it, you're hurting me!" He had answered her with two furious swats, both landing exactly where the first spank had left its bright outline of his castigating palm. Alma Bridges flailed her stockinged legs in the air, one pump flying off to thud against the nearest wall.
"Now, young lady, let's get down to particulars. He fucked you that time, didn't he?" Smack-crack-whack-smack! This time, all four hard, noisy spanks decorated her left buttock with a furiously bright coloration. Alma plunged her hands back to her flaming seat, sobbing feverishly and trying to wriggle off his lap.
"You-you awful brute-I-I'll leave you-just because I went to a doctor to find out if anything was wrong with me, you have to go and beat me up-"
"A spanking isn't classified as a beating up in a divorce court, Alma. And you still haven't answered my question. Did he or didn't he fuck you?" Whack-thwack-smack-crack-smack! His right hand applied two furious spanks to each shuddering, reddening nether cheek, the last falling right over the shadowy crevice of the perineal groove.
"Ahrr! Ohhhowwww-oh stop it, you're hurting me awfully! Pleeeeease! Oh, I can't stand it!" Alma wailed hysterically, again trying to cover up her blazing bare ass.
Pinning both wrists in her left hand, he swung her hands away from her weaving, upreared bottom, and energetically applied half a dozen more sonorous slaps all over her plunging, wriggling naked posterior. "Answer me, young lady!" he growled.
"Ahhowwwouuu! Ohh no more, Douglas darling! Eeek, oh, it hurts so-oh please, please have merrrrcy! Aiii, ouuuahrrr! Yes, yes, he did-but I couldn't help it-I was so unhappy after what you said about me, and you go away all the time and you never m-make romantic love to me and-andohh, boo hoo hoo, and-and now you're spanking me so hard I can't stand it. Ohh please, please, no more, honey!" she tearfully entreated.
"So I never make romantic love to you? We'll see about that. Now, get up onto the bed and take everything off. I mean everything, stockings too, young lady!" he commanded in a compelling, angry voice that made her shiver and stare at him with the dawning light of a new, fearful respect and even more.
"Y-yes s . . . sir," she whimpered as she crawled off his lap and gingerly knelt up, dragging up her dress and then her beige nylon slip. The pantygirdle was twisted round her knees, and she rolled over onto her side, drawing her knees up as she feverishly tugged at the rumpled sheath. Then, getting onto her knees again, dolefully sniffling and glancing fearfully at him as he watched her with intent, narrowed, gleaming eyes, Alma Bridges reached back to unhook her bra. "T-there!" she moaned.
"You've still got your stockings on," he harshly reminded her, and with an apprehensive wail, she tugged each filmy sheath off and flung them to the floor, then crouched on her knees, face streaked with tears. Her lush full tits dangled and heaved turbulently, her bottom was a flaming red to stand out lewdly against the milky pallor of her smooth quivering back and belly and thighs.
"That's more like it. Now just you get on all fours and bow your head down to the bed and keep your knees as far apart as you can get them, Alma," was his next command. And when she gawked at him, mouth open, tearfilled eyes uncomprehendingly questioning him, he snapped, "Do what I told you to, or I'll take my belt to your big bottom, young lady!"
"Oh no, don't, I-I'll do what you want, DDouglas!" she moaned and scrambled into the salacious and ignominious pose, her upreared, flamboyantly crimsoned ass restlessly weaving from the burning waves of her first marital chastisement.
Douglas Bridges stripped down to his socks and glasses. "Now then, are you wearing your diaphragm or something else, Alma?"
"Ohhhh! You don't mean-oh, I-I hate you. I don't want you to touch me, not after what you've done and said-Ohhh, ohhhhhhh, D-Douglas, whatever are you-ooooooh, ohh that tickles meooooh, Douglas darling-oh my God-"
For, crouching behind her, he had probed his right forefinger between her shaking, straddled milky thighs to rim the twitching, distended lips of her cunt, then moved it towards the apex of her love-core, the visible little button of her clit.
"I want you to answer me when I ask you a question, Alma. Are you wearing anything? I've plans for additions to our little family, but not quite yet. Well, woman?" He drew back his right hand and gave her a harsh slap across the crevice of her burning ass.
"Oww, oh please, no more! Yes-yes-I-I-Dr. Lorton gave me what he called an-an IUD, I think he said-" her voice was faint and faltering. For this was the first time in all their married life to discuss so intimate a topic with this man to whom she had borne a daughter and yet now seemed an utter stranger.
"That's right. And he did it when he fucked you, am I right?"
"Y-yes-oh I-I'm so ashamed-"
"And this nonsense about divorcing me and finding a man who would love you-that, of course, is none other than your favorite gynecologist, am I right again?"
"Y-yes.. . oh my God," Alma moaned, her head hanging in shame.
He chuckled triumphantly. "You won't need his services any more. And I'm going to take that bill up with him myself-not a word from you, young lady-" as she started to gasp a protest"or I'll take my belt to your big gorgeous ass!"
"D-Douglas Bridges-what's come over you?"
"I've had some sex counseling myself, Alma, only it didn't cost what yours did. I'm about to show you how much I've learned, so shut up and get ready," he gruffly declared. And with this, he again extended his right forefinger and began to frig her clit slowly and lightly, pausing at times to brush his fingertip against her crinkly, puckering asshole.
I. . . I can't get over it. . . he's a different man, a man I don't know at all. Ohh, how my poor bottom hurts from that awful spanking! Ohh, he-he's tickling my button, and I'm getting hot-so hot, just like I did when Jason examined me! Ohh my God, what if Phyllis should come home and walk in on this-ohhh, ohh, I'm going crazy, the way his finger's tickling my little button-and my bottom's wiggling so lean't control it-OHHHHHHE'SPUT HIS COCK INTO ME, SHO VED IT ALL THE WA Y INTO MY PUSSY! OH GOD, OHH HE'S SUCH A MAN, HE . . . OHHHHH HE'S FUCKING MY PUSSY HARD NOW, AND HE'S SQUEEZING MY B-BREASTS SO HARD . . . I CAN FEEL HIS BELLY BANGING UP AGAINST MY POOR SORE HOT BOTTOM . . .OH HIS COCK IS SO BIG, SO HARD, IT'S RUBBING THE INSIDE OF MY PUSSY AND OHH NOW HE'S GOT HIS FINGER ON MY BUTTON AGAIN, OH I'M GOING WILD, I'M GETTING SO HOT I CAN'T BEAR IT!
Whimpering, her body jostled back and forth by her husband's vigorous lunges into the churning, moistening cavern of her roused cuntal sheath, Alma Bridges slawed at the rumpled covers of the marital bed. Her face lifted, eyes exorbitant and luminous, her nostrils flaring and shrinking convulsively as she squirmed and jerked fitfully to his prick-digs and the insistent titillations of his frigging finggr at her sensitized and stiffened clit.
As he quickened his gait inside her torrid, contracting, spasming cunt, she uttered a choking sob, then panted, "Ahh-oh Doug-oh my God, darling, do it to me-ohh fuck me harder-ohh punish my pussy for being unfaithful-oh I never ever would have if I'd known how you could love me-ohh, Doug, my pussy needs it so, oh punish my naughty pussy, fuck me fuck me till I com!"
Her voice rose to an exultant shriek as she felt his prick shoot its bubbling gismic tribute deep along the quaking crannies of her shuddering cuntal sheath, her legs gave way beneath her, and she sprawled full-length on the bed. Douglas Bridges stretched out over her, his still stiff prick feeling the indescribable bliss-torture of being rapaciously squeezed by the furious cuntal contractions of this glorious aftermath to their conjugal fucking.
After a long rhapsodic moment, he drew himself out with a gasp and juskily ordered, "Go tidy up, Alma, and get back to bed as fast as you can. This time, you're going to suck my cock and get it ready for a longer fucking of that neurotic pussy of yours. And from now on, if you've got any cravings or symptoms of them, you come to your husband instead of to a doubledealing gynecologist? Now get that big ass of yours moving, girl!"
Her squeal of masochistic delight followed the stinging slap to the base of her still wriggling bottom as Alma Bridges, blushing and giggling like a schoolgirl on her first necking date, scramebled off the bed and hurried to the bathroom, sending a passionate, dewy-eyed look back at her virile, finally masterful better half.
There was a good hour and a half before Phyllis finally came home, and by then Alma and Douglas Bridges were asleep, lying happily in each other's arms. But during that time, the dark-brown-haired matron had blushingly learned how to take her husband's cock into her mouth and tickle his balls to produce the rampant prickvigor which her now adoringly roused and yearning cunt so wantonly demanded. And she was even more ecstatically gratified to discover that Dr. Jason Lorton was not the only man who knew how to work a woman's cunt to abandoned longing with lips and artful tongue.
CHAPTER TEN
"No, sir, Dr. Lorton hasn't come in yet this morning, but I expect him at any time," blonde Lucille Naughton smiled engagingly at the sturdy, good-looking bespectacled brown-haired man. "Who shall I say is calling, sir?"
"Is there anyone else in the office besides yourself, Nurse?"
"No, but why-"
"Good. I want to have a little talk with you." Douglas Bridges pushed open the outer door, while
Lucille, with a cry of alarm, sprang up from her desk in front of the paneled reception window.
"Sir, you can't come in when the doctor's not here," she protested.
"But you're the one I want to see first, Nurse. What's your name?"
"Now you see here, you've no right to come barging in here and-"
"My name happens to be Douglas Bridges. I believe my wife and daughter were patients of your employer. Now, what's your name?"
Lucille blushed nervously. "It-it's Lucille Naughton, Mr. Bridges. But I don't understand why you're acting this way-"
"I'll try to enlighten you, Miss Naughton. In the Tribune this morning, there's an article about doctors who are in cahoots with pharmacies and laboratories to split fees and arrange for billings on tests that aren't even given. Now I happened to find the bill your Dr. Lorton sent my wife last week. It's farcical, Miss Naughton. And I notice that your initials are on it, indicating you're familiar with the charge."
"Well, Y-yes, but-"
"Now then, Miss Naughton for your own good, I advise you to tell me what you know about my daughter's coming here. You see, I've a feeling your employer is in very deep and hot water, and if my suspicions are correct, you'll join him. I intend to phone the AMA before the day's over unless I get some very satisfactory explanations, you understand?"
Lucille Naughton gulped and put a hand to her bosom, feeling suddenly very faint. The steely look in Douglas Bridges' bespectacled eyes boded no good for Dr. Jason Lorton nor, she had the disturbing presentiment, herself either.
"There's something else I think I ought to tell you, Miss Naughton." He stared with disconcerting coldness at her, and she put her palm down on the desk behind her to support herself. "Just before I come here, I went to see Martha Foster-she happens to be a neighbor of my wife's. It seems Dr. Lorton promised he'd marry her if she could get a divorce from her pro basketball star of a hubby. Just as he promised my wife he'd marry her if she could shed me."
"He-he said that? You-you mean it?"
"That's what Martha Foster told me, and after last night, I'm quite sure my wife has learned to tell me the absolute truth. Now, what have you got to say?"
"Why, the dirty louse-he-he said he'd marry me when all this was over and we'd taken in enough money-hey-what are you doing-let go of menooooo!" For he had suddenly yanked her by the wrist and pulled her over his lap and was yanking up her white skirt and slip.
"Go right ahead, I want to hear you finish what you started to say," he harshly ordered as he gave her panties a sudden savage tug and fucked them down just past the base of her squirming velvety bottom.
"Ohh nooo! Don't you dare-oh let me up-I'llowww, ohh, owww!" His right palm had descended with an abrupt arc, stinging and flattening the lower left summit of her left bottomglobe, then applied an even harder spank to the other cheek.
"I'm waiting Miss Naughton." Smack-smack-smack-thwack-crack-smack-smackk!
"Owweee! Ohh pleeease, please stop! I'll tell, I'll tell, only stop, oh this is awful!" Lucille Naughton tearfully implored, kicking her white-stockinged long legs furiously as she strove to wriggle off his lap.
"Talk then!" Smack-crack-thwack-cracksmack!
"Ohh ahrrr! I will, I'll tell, only stop, oh you're hurting mee! Yes, yes, it's true, he and I worked out a deal with some of the labs and pharmacies so he gets a cut on the business he sends them, oh now please, please let me go!"
"And what about my daughter Phyllis?"
Lucille Naughton, sobbing dolefully, one hand plunged back to soothe her flaming naked ass, choked back her sobs and gasped, "I-I came in late yesterday afternoon-and-and I saw him mmaking love to her-oh, now let me go!"
"Thanks for telling me. Now, my advice to you is this, Miss Naughton. Pack your things, take what money you've got in the bank, and get out of town before the Nurses' Registry starts investigating your credentials the way the AMA is going to be doing with your boss before much longer, hear me?" He shoved the sobbing blonde young woman rudely off his lap, and Lucille Naughton uttered a wail of shame and pain as her naked, reddened bottom ig-nominiously bumped hard against the floor.
As she struggled to her feet, sobbing wildly, trying to drag her panties up, the door opened and the debonair gynecologist entered, then stopped dead in his tracks.
"What the hell is going on here, Lucille?" he ejaculated.
"This, you lecherous quack!" Douglas Bridges grimly told him and shot a vicious right uppercut to the black-haired doctor's jaw that sent him flying back against the door which swung open and deposited him on his back on the floor of the reception room.
"Now then, Dr. Lorton, if that isn't an alias, which it well might be," Alma's embattled and emancipated husband growled, "I'm saving your last bill to show the AMA. I ought to beat you to a pulp for what you did to Phyllis, except that from what she told me early this morning at breakfast, I'm glad to find she's not-likely to get pregnant. But I'm more interested in putting an end to your conniving, thieving racket. I'm going to the AMA offices right now, and that's the only break I'm going to give you. Maybe you can make it out of town one step ahead of the law-and I hope you don't."
The glass door in the hallway corridor shattered from the force of Douglas Bridges' emphatic slamming of it. A few moments later, it was slammed again as Lucille Naughton, emulating the hoary maxim of a rat leaving a sinking ship, walked out on a dazed and incredulous gynecologist whose days of practice-at least in the State of Illinois-had just come to a scandalous end.
Alma Bridges giggled as she wriggled closer to her naked husband. "I feel so wicked and sinful in these black scanties you bought me today, lover," she whispered to him, slipping one arm under his sturdy shoulders while her other hand stealthily crept towards his stiffening prick. She wore a filmy black net bra and matching panties, black satin-elastic garterbelt whose tabs hooked to gossamer off-black nylons of the very sheerest denier available, and her feet were shod in spike-heeled black patent-leather pumps. "Only what are we going to do about poor little Phyllis? Oh, I wish I'd been there this morning when you socked that wicked man-to think he'd dare to make love to my own daughter!"
"Well, Alma baby, in a way she takes after the new you, so don't blame her too much," he chuckled happily as his forefinger began to tickle her furry cunt through the diaphanous panties. "I think I'll send her to a private school for her last year in high, and I personally am not against young marriages. After all, she's going on seventeen, you know."
"And what about poor Martha? Is she going to break down and tell all to Abe when he gets back from the road trip?" Alma crept even closer to him, her soft hand cupping the middle of his dark-veined, rigid shaft, while her moist red lips brushed his hairy paps.
"No need to. She'll just try to get him to discover her all over again. A new hairdo, and maybe an outfit like the one I got you ought to do the trick. Anyhow, what she really, deep down inside, wants is a baby. So the simplest way to keep Abe happily tied to her is to get started on one as soon as he gets back."
"That's nice, darling. Hmm, I love you so. It's like a second honeymoon, only in some ways it's really our first. And-and you forgive me for-for cheating on you?"
"It's already forgiven. Only now it's your turn to forgive me. Back in Peoria that last time, I ran into a girl who was being mugged by some syndicate hoods, and, well, I fucked her. She's the one who put me wise to that I'd been missing all these years."
"Oh, you deceitful darling you! I forgive you tooand Douglas?"
"Hmm?"
"I think you ought to give her a present for what she taught you. And now, will you please show me a little more of what you learned?"
She rolled over onto her back and put up her knees, looking at him with provocative eagerness. Kneeling up, he shucked off the filmy panties, then, gripping her knees and widening them to maximum, bent his head to press his mouth against her twitching pink cuntal lips.
"Oooh, yes, ohh Doug lover, I just love that to start with-ohh, I'm getting so hot already-ohh, use your tongue too-oh no, wait, get over me, I-I want to suck your great big cock and get it ready for my hot pussy, please, darling!" she huskily entreated.
He swung himself over her in reverse as Alma Bridges avidly reached up to grip his hips and pull his heavy, swollen prick down to her soft red moist lips and clamp them lovingly round the elongated, taut, throbbing glans. Her hips began to weave and squirm rhythmically as his lips and tongue began their magical attunement till at last she panted, "Ohh now I want to feel your cock inside me, hurry, Doug darling, fuck me, fuck your naughty little girl hard as ever you can!"
He moved off her, knelt before her. Then, once again, gripping her knees, he forced them back against her panting tits and, crouching to her, thrust his saliva-glistening prick slowly, inch by inch, inside her quaking cuntal sheath.
"OUUUUUUU YES, OHH DARLING, OH IT'S SO GOOD, OH HARDER, DEEPER, FASTER, FUCK MEEEE!" Alma rapturously sobbed, kicking her pump shod feet above him as he began the rhythmic stroking of her burning, tensing cunt.
Ohhh, I-I hope Dr. Lorton got away-I mean, yes, he was a terribly dishonest, wicked man, but oooooh, if I hadn't gone to him, I'd never have my Douglas fucking me so wonderfully right nowohh, I love it, I can't get enough to make up for the years we've wasted-ohhh, I want to be fucked and fucked and sucked and loved every night from now on, ohh Doug, ohhh, fuck me harder, oh my sweet husband lover master darling fuck your naughty wife!
