DISCLAIMER:- The following text is sexually explicit and contains depictions of sexual acts that have been classified by the surgeon general as potentially dangerous and unhealthy. You must be a broad minded adult to read the text, and you must not make this text available to minors or to any person who does not wish to view it. Unprotected sexual relations with unknown partners is hazardous and we urge the use of condoms and safe sex at all times.

A small brown man in an expensive but ill-fitting suit sat behind the desk,
smiling benevolently at the man before him. "Your complaints are not dissimilar
to many I've heard, Mr. Frusten. Your wife has borne you the two point zero
zero zero children she felt was her duty and has now turned her attention to
other matters. 'Getting on with her life' many women call it. Sex just isn't
important in that plan, or outright dangerous in case another one, two, or three
point zero zero zero babies come along"

"Yes, that's it. I can't understand how she can do this to me!"

"She probably is not being intentionally cruel, Arthur. Most women simply have
no conception of men's constant, overpowering need for sex, so she does not
fathom the degree of your torment. I call it the 'sexless wife syndrome:' no
miniskirts, no skimpy undies, no sexy sleepwear even when you buy it for her, no
high heel sandals, no intimate dinners, no evenings out dancing, no giving or
receiving of oral sex and especially no spontaneous, unprotected intercourse."

The man nodded sadly. "Is there anything I can DO, Dr. Vargas?"

"Of course, Arthur. You CAN just continue to take it, as you have for the last
five or ten years. You are, what, 45 now? In another 25-30 years your sex
drive may have diminished to approximate that of your wife's and you can spend
your declining years holding hands and pretending you had been happy all the
time."

"But I CAN'T take it any longer," the man almost sobbed. "I love her, but I
can't go on without more sex. Isn't there anything else"

"You say you've tried all the women’s magazine advice: leaving love notes,
bringing flowers, buying her sexy lingerie, suggesting romantic vacations. But
sows what you really have in mind is SEX and she's not buying it. Those things
work only when she doubts you love her. Your wife seems sure enough you love
her, sure enough she does not that worry your frustration would send you to
another woman. No, there is not much else YOU can do, but there's a hell of a
lot SHE could do. I think we need to bring about a convergence of your sexual
fantasies"

"But she doesn't HAVE any fantasies."

"You may be right. When you first married, she probably had some ridiculously
fantastic expectations of you. When she realized you were just a man, she gave
up on you and her fantasies. Not to worry. In a way it makes our job easier if
she has NO fantasies.

"But then 'converge?'"

"We simply give her yours."

"Mine? But I don't really have fantasies, either. I just want a hot, pregnant
wife.

"Fantasy enough, some would say, but don't sell yourself short, Arthur. Perhaps
you just haven't explored your deeper desires. How much pornography do you
read?"

"Pornography? Oh, gosh! None since I was married. Deborah would kill me.
Well, maybe a glimpse of 'Playboy' when I travel on business."

"Hmmm. Ever read smutty stories on the internet? MCStories. com?
Erticstories.com? Storiesonline.com? Dark Wandereer.com? Or just the ASSM?"

"'A-S-S-M?'"

"'Alternative Sex Stories Moderated,'" the largest, most comprehensive site of
all and maintained by readers who contribute money at:

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/donations.htm

"No, none of that."

"Then you don't know if you have fantasies or not, Arthur. I think we'd better
find out, don't you?"

"But if *I* don't know, how can we find out.?"

"Quite easily. I'll run a psychopornogram on you." He motioned to a
closet-size chamber.

"A psycho-what"

"Never mind. Just remove your clothes and step into the machine."

"Remove my clothes?"

"Many fantasies -- the good ones, at least -- involve skin-to-skin contact with
the opposite sex. The psychopornogram records your reactions as experienced
during them."

"Wow! It's warm and slick and ...oooh ... feels like ...tits and ... ahhh, a
pussy in here"

"Two very important elements in a male sex fantasy, I'm sure you'll agree.
Sensors and nano-servo-mechanisms can adjust the organs to various size,
hardness, tightness, etc. The "pussy," -- that's the default setting for the
penis receptacle -- can also become an "ass," a "mouth" or a "hand" of various
dimensions and gender."

"Gender?" No way!"

"We're very thorough, Mr. Frusten. Now drink this before you put on the face
piece."

"What's that?"

"A small dose of hypnohol. You need to be very suggestible for the period of
the examination in order to react fully to each fantasy scenario as it's
presented."

<gulp> And the face piece? Wow! That stuff is ... goooood"

Well your mouth will also experience contact with "breasts," "asses," "tummies,"
"clitties," and "lips" of both types."

"Mrmpffg?"

"Now just relax as the psychopornogram takes you through a simulated reading of
all 735,451,837 - wait, I see my "Chloe and Mom: Conclusion" and "Fantasy
Aftermath" have just been posted -- 735,451,839 stories on ASSM."

"Mghrkdv!"

"Exactly."

******

A few hours later, the same small brown man in the same expensive but
ill-fitting suit again was sitting behind the same desk, smiling benevolently at
the same man before him. “What’s the verdict, doc?” he inquired.

"Well, for a man with 'no fantasies,' Arthur, you certainly have some doozies."
the doctor chuckled. "Who would have thought? You liked a lot of some pretty
kinky stuff, but the psychopornogram went off the charts when you hit the Frank
McCoy stories."

"Frank McWho?"

"Well-known author. Writes fantasies in which incest is harmless fun and
granddads and granddaughters, mothers and sons, daddies and pre-teen girls,
uncles, aunts, cousins, nieces and nephews happily fuck up a storm, making
babies out the kazoo."

"I wouldn't like that kind of trash!"

"Tell your cock that, Arthur. You came so hard you shorted out my apparatus.
Clearly this is the fantasy we need your wife to fulfill for you."

"But my wife would never fulfill an incest fantasy of mine -- if I have one."

"Get your wife here for an appointment, Arthur, and leave the rest to Dr.
Vargas."

*****

The office and the brown man and ill fitting suit were the same, but facing him
was a well put together and very irate woman, a partially drunk cup of tea sat
before her. "I don't know what kind of a 'relationship specialist' you claim to
be, Dr. Vargas, but there is nothing wrong with Arthur's and my 'relationship'
except that he wants to act like a fourteen year old boy."

"Could you elaborate, Mrs. Frusten."

"You know perfectly well what I mean," she glared, taking a sip of tea to gather
her thoughts. "He pesters me for sex ALL the time. If I didn't keep him under
control, he'd be asking me for it EVERY week, maybe more! I've explained to
Arthur very clearly that we are NOT having any more children. Since I'm not
messing up my body with artificial chemicals and I sure don't trust him with
condoms, he just has to be mature enough to restrict himself to once a month
during my safe period."

"I see you DO have a problem."

"I should say." The next sip of tea was more of a swig. "Besides being
oversexed, I can't trust him. He knew I'd said one child was more than enough,
but one night -- and the sneaky bastard knew just WHICH night to choose -- he
'romanced' me -- dinner, dancing -- and then, boom, back home he took advantage
of my having had a little too much to drink. Before I knew it, he had his hand
in my puss making me come like a cheap whore. He knows I don't permit that!
After a few orgasms I was so addled I let him make love and, bingo, I wind up
expecting again." The woman shuddered at the memory and sipped the tea.

"And he is so disgusting, no self control. He masturbates! Every day it
appears! I find flaky pajamas and wadded up tissues - who does he think he's
kidding?"

"It must be very difficult, especially for a woman like you."

"And what is THAT supposed to mean?" the woman sputtered with barely contained
rage. She took another sip of tea to control her self. The tea was the only
good think about this wretched interview. Quite tasty, actually. She took
another sip.

"Well, Mrs. Frusten, may I call you Deborah, you are a healthy woman approaching
that period of maximum sexual responsiveness. It must be difficult for you to
control your volcanic urges."

"'Volcanic?'" She sipped, confused.

"Yes, a deeply buried, seething desire for frequent, hard, nasty sex,
threatening to erupt at any time and overturn your tranquil life."

"Do you mean to suggest that I ..." she took another sip of tea, about to tell
this quack just how wrong he was when she realized that she DID occasionally
have certain ... urges. In fact shw was feeling one now. "...that I should
fall into bed every time I feel a twinge of desire."

"Certainly not Deborah! If you did, you'd spend all your time on your back,"
the doctor grinned.

"What?" Could that be right? It was hard to think. "Yes, but .. I'm a grown
woman, I can't ..." Thank God for the tea. It was helping her stay calm.

"Can't allow your self to express the constant, urgent need for orgasm clawing
at you -- the burning itch between your legs, the full, tingling breasts that
yearn to be squeezed. You can't allow your husband or your daughters to see how
horny you are all the time. You have to fight constantly not to throw your self
down and use your fingers or a fourteen inch vibrator to satisfy, if only
fleetingly, the overwhelming need you have to come!"

The woman was fidgeting, clearly distressed. The doctor took compassion on her.
"You don't dare let your husband and daughter see what a cum-hungry slut you
really are, Deborah, but here it's OK. No one will see you give in to your
basic needs. You can take off your blouse ..."

The woman looked confused, but began to unbutton her blouse.

"That's it Deborah, remove off that thick, constraining bra -- not the kind of
thing a sexy wife with a set of jugs like yours should be wearing -- and free
those big, sensitive titties.

"It's a relief, isn't it, to be able to rub, tweak and fondle then. That's it,
squeeze those babies. Pinch your nipples, Deborah, the way you wish you could
allow Arthur to do. Feels good ... sooo good, to have your huge boobs felt and
pawed, ... gnawed!

The woman's eyes were closed as she worked her unremarkable breasts furiously.

"Feeling up your breasts is great, Deborah, but it only gets you hotter. Your
pussy is getting so wet. You have to do something. Better shuck that skirt.
It covers up entirely too much of those killer legs you've got, anyway."

With no further prompting, the woman skivvied out of the skirt and introduced
first one then two, three, and four fingers into her pussy. The first orgasm
didn't take long.

After a few minutes of watching the buxom matron pleasuring herself on his
couch, the doctor smiled with satisfaction. "Debbie? Debbie?"

Reluctantly, the woman slowed and finally stopped frigging herself. Opening her
eyes, she gazed at the smiling brown man. How much her orgasmed-out brain
processed of what she saw and heard was debatable. "Debbie, Debbie, sweetheart,
a sexy little girl like you doesn't have to use your fingers to get the sexual
pleasure you need so badly," the kindly man explained

"Girl?"

"Of course, Debbie. It's natural for a over-developed ten-year old to be
frustrated, seeing and hearing Daddy fucking Mommy or your big sister every
night. He just doesn't realize how much his 'little Debbie' has grown. You'll
have to think of something to get Daddy’s attention if you want him to start
pleasing his little girl with that big prick of his."

"But, I'm ... a woman?" she replied, confused.

"Well, yes, technically. Letting your brother Josh take you cherry last year
did make you a woman and I'm sure he'd like to help you, but the twins and his
home room teacher keep little Jeffie pretty busy. And besides, twelve-year old
boys just don't have the stamina or the size of cock that your hungry little
pussy needs, Debbie. If you put your mind to it, I'm sure you can get Daddy to
fuck his 'baby girl.'"

"I don't understand."

"You will, Debbie, sweetheart. Now if you'll just drop those panties and step
into this machine ..."

*****

A few weeks later, the same small brown man in the same expensive but
ill-fitting suit sat behind the same desk smiling benevolently at the same man
before him. This time the man was smiling back.

"I can't believe the change, Dr. Vargas," the man exclaimed. "You'll never
guess what she did!"

"Oh, I might, but why don't you tell me?"

"Well I waited a few days after her final session with you and called her
'Debbie' as you told me when I kissed her goodbye one Friday morning. She
stiffened a little -- she's always hated 'Debbie,' -- but then she giggled a
little and said, 'Good bye, Daddy.' That was strange enough, but that was
nothing compared to the way she greeted me that night."

"Go on," the doctor settled back as the man told his tale.

"Well I hardly recognized her, the way she was dressed. She must have been
scouring the thrift shops from the other side of town to find that cheep,
ridiculously short cotton dress. I have no idea how she managed to pull her
hair into pigtails. And the knee socks and the scruffy loafers and the blouse
two sizes too small. The image of a grown woman packed into a school-girl
outfit got me hard instantly."

"Something that pleased her, no doubt"

"Rather! She tried to jump up into my arms and start kissing me. Damned near
knocked me over. 'Daddy, oh Daddy,' she bubbled. 'Ya gotta see, ya gotta see!'
She released me and went to get a piece of cardboard. 'Report Card: Grade 5,
Debbie McCoy,' it read. Inside were the 'grades.'

Reading: A; Writing: A; Spelling: A; Geography: A;
Arithmetic: A; Deportment: A; Attendance: 100%.

I just stared at the paper dumbly for a minute."

"'I did it, Daddy. Just like I told you I could. Now you have to keep your
promise.'"

"'My promise?' I asked."

"'You 'member, Daddy. You said if I got all A's all year long, you'd get me
anything I wanted for my birfday.'"

"I was starting to catch on. 'That's wonderful, sweetheart. I can get you that
pony you've been asking for.'"

"'Oh, silly Daddy!' she giggled. 'I don't want a PONY.'"

"'Then what, Poopsie? By now she had led me over to the couch."

"'Guess, Daddy,' she giggled and crawled into my lap. My God! she hadn't done
that since we were first married and she weighed thirty or forty pounds less.
She almost knocked the breath out of me, but I could hardly complain. My wife
was, so help me, grinding her pussy against my groin. Naturally my hands were
on her ass and she WASN'T WEARING PANTIES. 'Doncha know, Daddy? Cancha you
guess what little Debbie wants for her BIRFDAY?'"

"Well you know the rest. She pointed out that Martha had already left for
cheerleading camp, the twins had a sleepover and that Mommy had taken Josh to
visit Aunt Sue, so we were all alone. I had finally figured it all out so I let
her lead me up to the bedroom -- she wanted me to carry her -- and I laid her
out on the bed. I didn't bother undressing her, just pulled up the dress, ready
to dive into that delicious bush I remembered from too long ago, when I got my
final shock. Her pussy was bare!

"I was so turned on, I almost stuck it to her right then; she looked wet enough.
I guessed she had been frigging herself to get ready for me. But I played my
part. I made her 'little pussy feel ‘real good' with my tongue a few times.
God, she was hot; came buckets in my mouth. She even pleaded with me to 'be
gentle' with my 'big cock' in her 'baby pussy,' but I wasn't. I had years of
frustration to get out of my system and I fucked the bitch as hard as I could.
I did remember to tell her how tight she was, which was pretty true considering
how seldom she'd been letting me fuck her."

"I thought I was in heaven, at last, fucking my sexy wife and her responding
passionately, orgasming repeatedly on my cock. I had almost forgotten the other
part until she started in. 'Oh, Daddy! Are you going to do it? Are you going
to come in me? Are you going to knock up your baby girl? You're so big in me!
Are you going to squirt little Debbie full of your potent baby juice, Daddy? My
period was just too weeks ago, Daddy; I think I'm ready. Do you want to get
your little girl pregnant, Daddy? Do you want to see little Debbie's tummy get
big and fat? Will you suck milk from my big boobies?'"

"I was fucking her with everything I had, sweating like a pig, about to explode.
'Yes, Daddy, yes. I feel you swelling up in me. Come in me, Daddy. Give me a
babyyyyyyyyyyyy!' She screamed one final orgasm and I erupted into her. I fell
off of her and she scoonched over next to me but stayed on her back. I
remembered about keeping the jizz in it in where it would 'do her the most good'
and helped her put a pillow under her butt. Of course couldn't pass up the
opportunity to eat that sweet shaved pussy again and make her come several more
times, I was so wound up.

"Of course 'little Debbie' was insatiable that weekend and insisted that I fuck
her again and again 'to make sure she had a 'happy BIRFday.' I always 'got her
little pussy ready' for my 'big old cock' by eating her bald snatch and from the
way the woman was juicing, the clear sticky precum that met my tongue even
before I started working her up, I didn't doubt she was fertile that night. And
I shot, squirted, pumped, exploded, and unloaded enough semen into Deborah those
three nights and two days to impregnate a whole fifth grade class of horny
school-girls, even more one sexy woman in her prime.

"Little Debbie kissed me goodbye on Monday morning, thanking me for giving her
an early morning load of spunk to 'warm her little pussy' and telling me how
jealous ‘all her little friends at school would be,’ but when I came home that
evening, the sexually precocious girl who wanted Daddy to fuck her was gone. In
her place was Deborah, but a totally different Deborah. Instead of a sexless
harridan, I found a beautiful, voluptuous woman intent on seducing her husband.
She had been shopping again and this time not at the Salvation Army thrift
store. A woman in a short, tight red skirt, see-through blouse, impossibly high
heels and hightops, perfectly made up, perfumed and coiffeured came into my
arms. I almost came in my pants.

"To say she was in an amorous mood was to say the Yankees on opening day were
ready to play baseball. Her tongue was in my mouth and her arms pulled me tight
against her. My hands easily slid up under the skirt to find her bare ass
cheeks. Closer examination, aided by the way she wiggled her butt in my palms,
revealed there was a thong there, but barely.

A fancy dinner was ready, but it didn't get eaten. I led her to bed where she
gave me the satisfaction of undressing her, kissing her sexy figure inch by
delicious inch as I disrobed her. A flood of commentary about much I loved each
luscious part of her body poured out. I saved for last removing the silly
pretense of a thong from her pussy. I had never seen it warmer, wetter, and
more inviting. She spread her legs and let me plunge in. Something seemed odd,
but I was so overwhelmed by the sexiness of her sex, I happily plunged in.

I must say, nice as it was to play out my little fantasy, I actually enjoyed
making love to my adult wife that night even better. I told her how much I
loved her, adored her, as we fucked and afterward as we held each other close,
and before we started up again. She told me she loved me, too, and intended to
let me see just how much.

"I woke up with my head between her plump legs, my tongue joyfully fighting its
way through her steamy jungle toward the treasure that lay within. I had eaten
her to three orgasms and fucked her to a fourth and fifth when I finally
realized what was wrong. I never eat pussy!"

"Well, Mr. Frusten, I AM a relationships counselor and I did explain that the
key to a hot marriage is to bring about a 'convergence' of fantasies. The
weekend was your fantasy, mainly; the next night was mostly hers.

"But that's not what I paid ..."

"You've got a hot, sexy, probably knocked up wife, Arthur. What part of 'lucky
bastard' don't you understand? You'll be getting my bill shortly."

Epilogue:

In a large suburban house, far away from the small brown man in the expensive
but ill-fitting suit sitting behind a desk, a curvy woman in pigtails and a
cheep short cotton dress had her arms around her bewildered husband. "You did
it Daddy! You made your baby girl pregnant," she gushed, waiving an EPT.
"Iddn't it cool, Daddy? My little tummy is gonna get sooo big and all the other
little girls in my class are gonna be sooo jealous of my boobies. Do 'ya think
you might have put more than one in me, huh, Daddy? You sure tried! <giggle>
Wouldn't that be funny, Daddy, if you gave little Debbie two or three babies and
Josh could gave Mommy and Martha only one? I can hardly wait 'til I have this
baby, Daddy. Know why?”

The man grinned, "No, why, Poopsie?"

"Oh, you know why, Daddy! So you can start making our baby a little brother or
sister to fuck. How many of your babies do you think I can have before I finish
High School, Daddy."

"Deborah! Deborah!" he spoke and shook her gently.

The woman shuddered, looked down at her attire, then at the man, and smiled.

"As many as you want, my love," he replied, stroking her still flat tummy
lovingly.