DOTS AND DASHES OF COLOR Chapter 11

WARNING:

The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex.  If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upset you, or you are offended by subjects of a sexual nature - do not read any further! 

This story is for entertainment only.  It contains adult oriented material. This is a work of fiction.  The acts and characters contained within are figments of my imagination and have no basis in fact.  I do not practice, advocate, condone or encourage acts portrayed here.  The characters in the story are entirely fictional.  You need to believe that all of the characters are over the age of eighteen.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author.  This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached.

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Oops.  I claimed that Service With A Smile Ch. 4 was the end of the Dots and Dashes of Color series.  Not so much. This segment laid low on my hard disk drive, waiting to spring out and surprise me.  And you.  Hopefully a pleasant surprise.

A concerned Mr. Marcus contemplates his performance during the two sexual liaisons he'd had in rapid succession - Saroya Zenellis, former Chairwoman of Zenellis Enterprises, and ex-secretary Letti.  In both cases, full inflation was delayed and difficult.  Given Mr. Marcus's previous history of instantaneous erections, he decides to take action.  

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Nurse's Aid

Not being able to get it up easily or keep it up chafed my gut.  There I was, a very sexual adult male with a voracious appetite for women large and small - okay, maybe not the large ones - and my penis was not cooperating.  The trouble I had with Saroya was downright embarrassing.  The last thing I wanted to give her was a laugh at my expense, or lack of expanse.  And Letti's bra and pantied body didn't twitch my dick until I was drugged.

I left work early with a feeble excuse - I had an appointment with a plumber.  I didn't announce that it was my plumbing that was going to get a check-up.  Oh yes, I'd successfully penetrated and climaxed with both women, but I had been under the influence of artificial pheromones, and I didn't want that drug to become a necessary crutch.  Besides, sex under the influence had blocked out too much of my brain's pleasure center.   I barely remembered what we'd done when I came to, softening and sticky. 

Selfishly, I picked a prick specialist named Marcus out of the Yellow Pages.  What the hell, I might get better treatment, and he'd never forget my name.  He had an end-of-day appointment from a cancellation.  From a customer sporting a spontaneous erection, no doubt.

I drove to a train parking lot.  Public transportation would take me within walking distance to Dr. Marcus's office.   And, I'd avoid steep parking charges downtown.  Here in the suburbs, I'd pay a buck for all day.  That wouldn't get me fifteen minutes downtown.  

My eyes scanned the train car for attractive females, and there were plenty.  One sat on the other side of the aisle, legs exposed by a short skirt, but everything above her waist shielded from view by a newspaper.  I gave up looking at her crossed legs when I noticed a familiar name in a front-page article.  A class action suit had been filed against MultiMax International. Seems that over ten thousand women got pregnant when their sex partners couldn't pull out before ejaculating when using Couples.  The company announced an immediate recall, plus cancellation of a follow-on product, Couples Plus, with stronger adhesive properties.  Dumb asses!  If anything, Couples needed more lubricant and less glue.  As the woman turned the page, she slid in the plastic seat.  Her skirt was bunched high enough for me to see black lace panties.  My eyes were happy but everything below my waist was dispassionate.  Damn, I was broken.

After a short walk and an elevator ride, I entered a cookie-cutter doctor's waiting room through a glass door with the doctor's name - Marcus - in large black letters.  Padded chairs were worn thin from repeat visits of sexually dysfunctional males.   And they were there in numbers, dejected looking men whose egos revolved around their dicks.  Just like me.

I checked in at the reception desk.  A pretty nurse with short-cropped hair and nice curves, in a starched white uniform adorned with a name tag reading BJ, smiled when I gave her my name.  "Any relation?" she asked.  I shook my head.  In the old days, a modicum of attention from BJ would have been enough to get me inflated.  Still, all I could think of was "blow job", her full lips on my prick.  Was that a twinge?  No, just discomfort from a section of unpadded wood beneath my ass as I took a seat.

I filled out forms while every other guy there had their name called, plodded down the hallway behind a wiggling BJ, and disappeared.  A man in a white lab coat hurried from exam room to exam room, crisscrossing the hallway.  Like keeping plates spinning on sticks, I supposed.  Limp sticks.

Finally BJ called out "Marcus."  A faint voice in the hallway called out, "What?"  I stood and followed BJ down the hall into an examination room.  "Get undressed and put on this gown." Strip and be searched.  Just like any other exam I'd ever taken, except for her smile.  

Just as I began to shiver from lack of clothes in the cold room, Marcus came in with my chart and grunted.  His commands were terse.  ""Inhale."  "Hold it."  "Exhale."  At long last, he asked me to remove my gown.  There I sat, buck-naked.  "So, what seems to be the problem?"

I explained that I was having trouble getting an erection.  Did I really have to explain?  He's a specialist, for cripes sake.  

He lifted my dick with thumb and index finger.  He was close enough that I could feel his breath.  And, no, I didn't react.  "Stand facing the table and spread your legs."  I heard the crinkle of a rubber glove, then he jammed his Vaselined finger up my ass, I guess to check my prostrate.  "Put your gown back on.  I'll need to take an x-ray."

"Of my penis?"

Marcus escorted me to a room at the end of the hall.  I shuffled my feet and held the back of my gown.  If someone saw my front, no big deal.  Lots of people had, mostly young women.  But I didn't want anyone scoping out my ass.  There was another table, a TV hanging on the wall, plus the x-ray machinery.

"You'll need to be erect," said Marcus.

This seemed to be an impasse. I was here because I couldn't get it up, and he needed me erect to diagnose the problem.

"Can you think of something erotic, or do you require stimulation?"  For the first time since the start of the exam, his eyes widened and he gave me a crooked smile.  "Perhaps something I keep for just such purposes -"

He unlocked a cabinet along the wall.  There was a stash of porn the likes of which I'd never seen.  Bigger than mine!  Video tapes, magazines, paperbacks.  I scanned the video titles.  He even had illegal copies of Traci Lords flicks, before she was eighteen!  I'd heard about those but never seen any.

The phone on the wall buzzed, and Marcus answered.  "Uh huh.  Yes.  All right."  He hung up and addressed me.  "Choose something.  I'll be right back."

Not a second after he left, BJ came through the door.  I was still naked!  She focused on my groin.  When she licked her lips, my dick wiggled.  BJ's tongue was wagging, providing virtual stimulation.  I was half up, my penis lifting.  Why was I reacting to her?  I grabbed a magazine from the top of the stack and held it in front of my privates.

Marcus reentered the room. He scowled.  "BJ!  Please, give this patient some privacy."

"Sorry."  Her face got redder.

He turned his back to replace the x-ray plate.  I got another flutter of eyelids, and then a wink.  Damn!  I was hard.  BJ scooted from the room.  

Marcus turned around and saw my erection.  "Seems like something's working."  He tilted his head to read the title of the magazine in my hand.  "Ah yes, WANTON SUBURBAN WOMEN.  Good choice.  Keep going with that fantasy."

It wasn't wanton women that got me hard, it was his assistant.

"Lay down. Close you eyes."  I felt a gloved hand on my erection.  Marcus's.   "Almost there.  Picture those soccer moms."

The door opened.  I peeked. BJ had stepped in.  Her hand was at her throat, fingers dipping into her dress towards a breast.  Her stance was knock-kneed, as if she was having groin feelings of her own.  My dick sprung up, full and proud.

"Are you here again?"  Marcus called over his shoulder.  "Make yourself useful.  Swap the film plates."

BJ pulled a large square from the machine and slid in a replacement.  Marcus slid the vertical screen up my legs until my dick rested against it.

"Stay still."

I heard a crackling sound.  

"One more," said the doc.  BJ now stood along side.  Her focus was on my penis, not her task.

"BJ, please, the film."

She changed plates once more.  Marcus slid the vertical screen ninety degrees, to shoot from the side.

"Give me a few minutes to have them developed," said Marcus.  "You can get dressed and wait in the lobby.  BJ will let you know when I'm ready for you in my office."

BJ followed the doctor out of the room.  She was looking back at me and almost stepped on his heels.

I was disappointed that BJ didn't stick around and offer to take care of my hard on.  It was obvious she'd been interested, and my erection said it was mutual.  I just stuffed my erection in my pants and walked back to the waiting area.   I was almost proud and walked erect, just like my dick.

Twenty minutes later, BJ called my name and escorted me into Marcus's office, a small dark room decorated with stacks of medical magazines and papers. They might have mostly been medical magazines, with a few new issues of porn for Marcus's collection.  I didn't have a chance to ruffle through the stacks to find out.  Marcus flew in and threw himself into his swivel chair. It rolled sideways, bounced into a stack of magazines on the floor, and came to an abrupt halt.  He waved an x-ray in his hand.  "You've suffered some vascular and nerve damage. You'll need to let things heal.  Thankfully, no surgery required.  Tell me, how often do you have sex?

I considered the question.  "Two, maybe three times."

"A week?" he asked.

"No, a day."

The x-ray and his jaw both dropped.  What did he expect?  I have a reputation to protect.

"That's way more than your organ can take.  You'll have to cut back, while your penis heals.  I prescribe no sexual intercourse, and no masturbation for a month."  He scribbled on a notepad and handed me the slip of paper.  I couldn't decipher his scrawl.  "Self-stimulation takes a harder toll on your organ than plain sex."

Harder?  I only wish.  But no way I could my dick take a month's vacation.  I nodded, to indicate I'd understood, but not necessarily agreed.  My voice was weak.  "Thanks."

"Pay BJ on your way out."

Giving BJ my credit card was a cheap way to be close to her for a few minutes more.  I didn't have the nerve to ask when she got off - work, that is - so I returned the smile and left.

The full impact of the doctor's prescription hit me on the elevator ride down.  A month without sex?  Impossible!  As I strolled towards the train line, flashing neon caught my eye - Adult Magazines.  My envy of Marcus's collection got the better of me and I altered my path.  I pushed through the entry turnstile inside the door, nodded to the pimply clerk and wandered the aisles.  Some of the magazine titles I'd heard of, and even owned several copies, but many were new to me.  I was tempted to buy the latest Mayfair, a nice magazine from England, or the latest Juggs, and then thought about Dr. Crumholtz and her accusation. I put both issues back in the rack.  

As I came around the corner, who do you think was at the register, getting change from a cash purchase?  BJ, from the doctor's office.  Purchasing some additions to her employer's collection, no doubt.  I approached the counter, hands empty but mind full of lusty thoughts and a flaccid penis in my pants.  "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"  It was a stale line, but completely appropriate.  Her bag was plastic with a bulge, not flat, so she hadn't bought magazines or books.

"I can't get no satisfaction," she purred.

A Rolling Stones lyric was a just response to my clichˇ.  We both scooted through the exit turnstile onto the sidewalk.

"Which way do you go?" she asked.

I pointed in the direction of the over-head rail line.  "North."

"Great!  We can ride together."

We stood silent on the platform.  BJ swung her plastic bag back and forth.  My curiosity was overflowing, but who was I to ask what she'd bought?  A train arrived, and we took an empty seat together.

"So, how long have you been a nurse?"  I thought that's what she was.  She was dressed the part.  She was sitting very close, our thighs in direct contact from hip to knee.

"I'm no nurse, just helping out in Daddy's office."

BJ was Marcus's daughter?  Damn!  He says don't use your dick, and his daughter was the first one in a while to raise my flag.  I decided to proceed carefully, and disengage at my first opportunity.

She continued, "I'm enrolled in med school.  You know, it's so silly.  Daddy shoos me away when he's examining patients, like I've never seen a man's penis before."  Her palm rested on my upper thigh. Perhaps the last time since she'd touched one was longer.  Although given my condition, any dick would have been longer than mine.  "Why, your dick was the first I've seen in months."

Given that her hand was mere inches away from my cock, I got nosy.  "In the office, or at all?"

"Isn't that a bit personal?"

Her hand crept up higher on my thigh.  My prize lay dormant.  Maybe I'd gotten hard in Marcus's office due to circumstances, me naked and all, and not BJ.  "And your viewing me naked wasn't?"

"Point taken.  I'm between relationships right now."  She removed her hand and clutched the plastic bag to her chest.

I exhaled.  My curiosity overflowed.  "So, what did you buy?"

"There you go again, getting nosey.  Say, are you in a hurry to get someplace?"

"No."  Harriett was out again this evening.  "Why?"

'Cause we're coming up to my stop and I'd enjoy some company.  I hate going back to an empty apartment.  Why don't you come over?  We can chat, and I'll answer all your questions."

Hell, it's only company.  I'm in no shape for anything else, despite BJ's attempts at stimulation.  "Sure."

"Great!"

She took my hand, like we were young lovers.  "Come on," she prompted. 

We skipped from the train steps down the block.  I hadn't skipped in decades, and hadn't skipped an opportunity to have sex in, well, as long as I could remember.

Her building was a renovated two-flat on a block filled with cloned structures, all red brick, all tuck pointed with new cement.

BJ strutted up the stairs, hips swaying.  I followed closely, hypnotized by the motion.  When she unlocked the door and flung it open, I tailgated.  Because I wasn't raised in a barn, I shut the door behind me.  

The efficiency was scarcely furnished:  a bed, some homemade cinderblock and laminated pressboard shelves, and card table near the kitchenette with three mismatched folding chairs.  Sheets duct-taped to the walls substituted for curtains.

When I turned, BJ had already unbuttoned her white uniform.  With a shrug, it hit the floor.  She picked it up by the collar.  "I'm casual around the apartment.  I hope you don't mind.  This way, I don't have to wash it out every day."

I nodded helplessly, captivated by her up thrust breasts straining against her black bra, low riding polka dot panties and white nurse socks up to her thighs with stretch tops.  No old-fashioned garter belts for this chick.  I should have been sporting a raging hard on, but nothing.  Not even a twitch.

"School is expensive and Dad doesn't pay me worth a damn.  Except he won't let me work anywhere but his office.  Phony pride, I hate it."

I decided to stay off the topic of Dr. Marcus.  It was obviously a sore point.

"Why don't you think we're related?" she asked.

I didn't have the heart to tell her it was originally Marzinsky before some clerk at Ellis Island butchered it.  "It's just unlikely.  My family settled in Iowa."  A bald-faced lie, no harm, just for fun.

"So, what did you come to Dad for anyway?  I bet I can guess."

I grabbed a folding chair and crossed my arms.  "You don't have to guess. You probably read my chart."

"Smart guy.  You're having trouble getting it up.  That's what most of his patients suffer from.  So, what did Daddy say?"  She held up her palm.  "Wait don't tell me."  She stood with her hands on her hips.  She was Wonder Woman, except with smaller tits and without the lasso of truth.  "Abstain from sex and masturbation for a week, and see if the condition corrects itself."

Even though he'd said a month, I didn't correct her.  "That's about it.  Some rest for the old boy."  I patted my crotch for emphasis.  "Lay off the hand strokes and limit the pussy."

"Daddy's methods are so archaic.  There are newer, more modern treatments.  Drugs, physical therapies.  How would you like a second opinion?"

"About what?"  Was she offering me pills?  I didn't want to have to pop a pill when I wanted to get ready for sex.  Shit, I'd be taking them constantly.

"About your problem, silly.  I'm taking human sexual response, and I could use the practice.  Besides, I have some novel techniques I'd like to try."

I was curious but skeptical.  "I don't think so."  The doctor says limit sexual activity so I take his daughter home and fuck her?  Nice move.

"It's not like I haven't already seen it. It can't hurt.  Come on."

That's what I was afraid of.  That I'd cum on her, or in her.  Was my dick expanding?  I shook my head and folded my arms.

"Please?  I have a gentle touch."

That's good.  Nobody likes his manhood manhandled.  There I was, with an attractive woman in her undies asking to touch my dick.  "Oh, all right.  Just look, and limit the touching."

"I promise."  She smiled as if she'd just eaten the canary or sucked on someone's penis.

I removed my pants and shirt.

"Might as well take it all off, like at Daddy's office."

I hesitated, Doctor Daddy's prescription echoing in my brain.  "Your father said -"

"Strip, damn it.  I'm trying to help you."

Her expression was anything but solicitous.  It was anger, not the sweet disposition from the train.  She must really have issues with her father.  Which probably translates into issues with men.  Which meant me.  I wondered what kind of danger I would be in, exposing myself.  Too late. I was completely naked.

"Now let's have a look."  BJ dropped to her knees, moved close and lifted my dick by the head using two fingers.  Same crotch-side manner as dear old Dad.  "I want to see the arterial structure."

"Your Dad said -"

She grabbed my dick and pulled hard.  "I'm doing this exam, not my father!"

Damn!  Why can't I remember to leave her father out of this.  "Okay, okay.  Relax."

"So seeing me this way doesn't get a reaction?"  She stood up and posed, knee cocked, chest forward.  Although viewing her cleavage at the office was a nice fantasy, BJ in the almost flesh wasn't exciting at all.  Quite pathetic, actually.

"Perhaps massage therapy."  She fell to her knees and began to stroke my dick.  She did have a gentle touch, but my limp organ was unresponsive.  I began to believe that my problem was mental, not physical.  After all, BJ's provocative behavior in her father's office had gotten me erect.  Now, barely covered, she wasn't at all titillating.  

"Okay, let me try oral stimulation."

It was clear that BJ was horny, had seen me erect, and wanted to take advantage of a big dick.  Like so many before her. Her cheeks puffed as she took about half the length of my cock in and out of her lips.  The slurping sound was familiar but unmoving.

Except for her desperation, it was almost funny.  Her father had told me to stay away from sex, and his daughter was doing her damndest to get me up.  I held back a smile, knowing BJ wouldn't react well if I showed amusement at her failure.

She resumed her Wonder Woman stance.  "I'm sorry.  That's the best I've got."  She seemed agitated, glancing around her apartment.  Her voice dropped.  "Listen, do you mind if I get myself off? I'm so horny now I could shit."

I glanced at her panties.  A new spot had joined the others.  Her juices were overflowing.  "It's your apartment."  I sat down on the folding chair.  The unpadded spots were cold metal against my ass.

BJ fetched the plastic bag from the porn store and removed a plastic dick approximately six inches ling, a typical male size.  She dropped her polka dot panties, flopped back on her bed and spread her legs.  Her pussy lips were puffy.  She held up her second choice.  I was right about her faked concern.  She wasn't interested in my condition.  Why not have the real thing instead of a rubber substitute? 

BJ placed the dildo at her cunt lips and pushed.  She didn't make much headway.  "God, I thought I was ready.  This can't be too big."

I wanted to ask how big a dick she'd fucked, but it was none of my business.

"Maybe the lube will help."  She paused, fondling the sex toy, as if she had more to say.  "I gotta be honest.  Seeing your dick hard and stiff got me all excited.  That's why I went to the shop, but they were out of stock on eights and nines.  That's how big you are, right?"

At the moment, I was less than four.  "When I'm up, that's about right."

"A four looked too small and I passed up the twelve, for obvious reasons."  She rolled her eyes.  

Too bad she'd never met Harry Cocksworth.  Good thing they were out of eights, given how much trouble the six incher was giving her.

BJ took a tube from the bag.  The label was too familiar - she'd bought Couples!  Damn store didn't bother to pull the product from their shelf.  My product.  Well, Zenellis's product, but my idea.  Actually, his idea after he saw me stuck in the skinny girl's cunt.  What was her name, anyway?

"When I saw you at the store, I figured you were probably horny too, and you might come back here and, well, you know."  She reached between my legs and tapped my flaccid penis once more for emphasis.  "No such luck."

"Sorry."  My head and cock both drooped.

"How about this?"  She popped the bra.  Now she wore only stockings.  Succulent tits, round with upturned nipples.  

Quite delectable, under most conditions, but not at the moment.  I shrugged.

"Well, I'm horny, and since you can't participate, you'll be my audience.  Sit."

I was afraid to do otherwise.  Did she have a knife handy?  My prick wasn't functional, but I wanted to keep it connected, for old times sake.

BJ opened the tube of Couples.

"Maybe you shouldn't use that," I suggested.

"Who are you, Mister Limp Dick, to be giving me advice?  If you must know, this is the biggest one I've ever taken, and I don't want to be ripped open.  Now shut up and watch."  She squeezed out a healthy blob of lubricant/adhesive onto the dildo and coated the tip.  She laid back on her bed, spread her legs and flicked a switch.  The dildo came alive with a hum.  A vibrator, not just a hunk of inanimate rubber.

She massaged the outside of her pussy with the device, cooing at the touch to her more sensitive regions, like the top of her crease.  In small movements, she traveled the vibrator up and down, and then shyly slipping it into her pussy.  With each dip between her cunt lips, BJ sighed.  I expected that sex with her would be glorious.  Having a willing and receptive partner usually makes it so.  I wasn't prepared to be anyone's partner at the moment.  Even my right hand had no companion.

BJ eased the dildo into her pussy, over and over.  Her movements remained slow, until her hips began lifting from the cushion.  She drove the dildo deeper, with difficulty.  It was clear Couples' sticky property was taking effect, because she had to push harder every time. 

"Slow down!" I called, over the vibrator's hum.  "Take it real easy."

"Fuck you!" she replied and pummeled her cunt even harder.

Then it happened.  After one sharp thrust, the plastic penis penetrated almost the full length but didn't pull out.  "Huh?"  BJ attempted to extract it, but the dildo stalled.  "It's stuck."  BJ squirmed, yanking at the vibrator.  "It won't come out."  BJ's face was red, the flush cascading down her neck and chest.  

I giggled.  This was pretty funny, especially since it wasn't me stuck in her cunt.

Her hips thrust upwards, as she tossed from side to side, chest rising and falling, and then a frozen moment, as an orgasm swept over her.  "Ahhhhhh."  Except the device was still embedded, and still churning her insides.  So, more writhing.  And another held breath.  "Arrrrrrgh.  No more!" she shouted.  "Too much -"  But it was too late.  Her moans were guttural, more animalistic.  

"Don't just sit there.  Help me."

"Who, me?  Mr. Limp Dick?" My giggle grew into a chortle.  A horny woman with a dildo glued into her pussy.  The situation was tragic.  The series of orgasms was wearing her out, physically and maybe emotionally.  I didn't know if excessive sequential orgasms were fatal, but if America's Funniest Videos ever had an explicit category, a video of BJ's never-ending climaxes would win first prize.  I laughed out loud.

BJ was breathing hard, grunting.  "What's so funny?"

"Your toy can't seem to get enough of your lovin'."  BJ deserved some of her own medicine.

BJ groped for the switch, but the stimulation ruined her concentration and agility.  The dildo hummed, shaking within her. BJ writhed all over the bed, bucking her hips like she was taming a stallion.  She moaned and cried, I expected from pleasure.  "Oh God!"  She fumbled with the device, which was slick with Couples.  "It won't turn off!  No more."  The vibrator continued driving BJ into a debilitating series of orgasms.  "No more.  Please, no more."

This was hilarious!  Maybe too much of a good thing isn't a good thing.  I laughed so hard it hurt.

BJ could barely complain about my laughter between orgasms.  "Stop it.  Oh shit!  I don't- I can't-"  She couldn't finish the phrase.  Her arms gave up trying to remove the vibrator.  She clutched at the sheets, worn out but still spasming.  "I can't - No more -"

I decided to assist and stood up.  That's when I noticed that I was erect.  All eight inches.  Damn!  Humor as the solution to my problem?  Perhaps I'd been taking sex too seriously.

I knelt on the bed and spread BJ's legs apart.  With a gentle twisting, I unscrewed the bottom of the vibrator.  Unscrewed?  Even that made me guffaw.  The batteries slid from the plastic housing.  The stimulation and buzz stopped.  BJ melted back, muscles fatigued.  Her arms and legs were limp, motionless.  Couple's adhesive properties dissipated as I coaxed the vibrator from her pussy, which was still gaping.  She was open but exhausted.  I was erect and horny.  She had said she wanted the real thing.  I crawled onto the bed above her body, arms and penis stiff.

She opened her eyes halfway.  "Oh God.  You have no idea what that felt like."  She took a cleansing breath.  "What happened?"

"Didn't you read the label?  Couples is both a lubricant and an adhesive.  A friction-creator, actually.  Strong motions activate the adhesive, slow motion the lubricant.  Your last push got the vibrator stuck."  Her nipples were bright red and puffy.  "Must have felt pretty good, having all of those orgasms."  

"The first few, oh yes.  Intense.  Although a vibrator doesn't have the same feel as the real thing."  She must have felt my erection against her upper thigh.  "Shit!  You're up?  Now?"

"Uh huh."  I licked one nipple, then the other.  "You're right, there's nothing like the real thing."  I placed my prick at her open pussy.

"Now?  You want to fuck NOW?"  She squirmed, dislodging my dick.

I leaned my hips until the tip of my dick nestled against between her draped lips.  "I thought you'd never ask." 

"What are you doing?"

"Giving you what you wanted.  My eight inches."

"But when did you - How did you - Oh God.  Not now.  I don't have the strength to -"

"Be quiet and let me do the work. Just enjoy."  I pushed forward, wondering if the Couples gel was still active in her cunt.

"I'm not up for this.  I'm happy you got an erection, but -"

"Think of it this way," I said.  "You had an appetizer, now it's time for the main course."

"But I had way too many appetizers.  God, your penis is hot."

It was burning.  I didn't know how long it would last, now that the laughing had stopped.  "There's got to be an ounce of pity in that body of yours for a guy who couldn't get stiff, now is, and needs to do something with it."

She closed her eyes and licked her lips.  The feel of my prick at the entrance to her pussy was having some effect.  "Maybe an ounce.  But I can't raise my arms or anything.  How will I-"

I moved up, wedging a couple of inches into her.  "Let me do the work."

The vibrator had a great job of tunneling, but my dick was fatter and longer, so despite the reaming, I still got friction.

As I pumped, in and out, gently, BJ moaned.  "My legs.  I can't keep them open.  They're cramping.

"Okay."  I spread my legs outside of hers and used my knees to push her legs together.  That put additional pressure on my dick, her pussy squeezed by her thighs.  "Better?"

"Mmmmmm."

I'd changed the angle of approach, so that I'd slide against the upper end of her gash.  The dildo had given her vaginal orgasms, lucky lady, but never touched her clit.

"You can do it a little faster," she whispered.

I did as she asked, and added nipple sucking to my routine.  The vibrator hadn't done anything for her tits either.  

BJ's hips came off the mattress.  "Uh oh."  

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"God knows, I'm getting hot but my muscles ache real bad."

"I have an idea."  I pushed her legs apart and moved my legs inside.  With effort, I guided her legs onto my shoulders, opening her up for more serious penetration.  On my next insertion, I went as far as her cunt would allow.

"Oooh God.  How big are you?"

"About eight inches."  I laughed.  "Relax.  I'll be done soon."

"Not before me."  Her arms collapsed around my waist.  "Go ahead and fuck me.  I can take it."

I wasn't so sure.  I let my dick slide out.  Then, a sharp thrust.  If there was any Couples left, I was risking getting trapped.  "You want the feel of a real prick in your pussy, instead of that plastic?  Well, you've got one."  Time for another false exit and another quick reentry.

She bounced, but only in reaction to the bedsprings, moaning and crying, tightening her face and her groin muscles.

"Do it!  Make me cum!"  She shouted.  

I rubbed her tits.  

"No, lower."

I licked my fingers and pried her lips apart at the top.  Once more, I licked, than vibrated my fingers back and forth.

Her cunt clamped down.  "Oh yes.  Oh yes.  Ohhhhhhh."

I executed a flurry of short jabs, prick tight inside her.  Semen burst from my dick.  Not bad timing, if I say so myself.

Her legs flopped from my shoulders, splayed to the sides.

BJ got an orgasm from a real dick, and I was cured.  And if not, I sure as hell enjoyed the therapy.  I just needed to remember how uplifting laughter could be.

###

An Original H M Tale 

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Copyright (c) 2007, Harvey Marcus.  All Rights Reserved.
