EPB-105  The Crazed Gynecologist
by Mark Alder


FOREWORD 

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! 


The End
