Chapter 5

For the next couple of months, my cock was absolutely reeling. I pummeled more pussy, and tasted more tit than ethics allowed. But ethics weren't on my mind. All I could think of was sex. During my nonfucking hours, I dreamed up new, varied methods of seduction with each of my delicious patients. The peculiar thing was... my methods were actually helping my patients! I even had fantasies of standing before my colleagues delivering my unorthodox approach: "Gentlemen. Consider. How many years... how may long years it's necessary to keep a patient, in analysis! Gentlemen, I am convinced our analytic methods are outmoded. Its time to look... no, not back to Freud... but ahead to tomorrow. I have found a method that many of you would consider unethical. Yes, unethical. But the truth is... my courageous methods have succeeded. I have had 100% success. My method? Sex. Do I hear a murmur in the audience? Gentlemen... please... open your minds. Sex is the cure-all method. Feel a patient today. Let them experience sex. Give them orgasms. And gentlemen... not only will it speed up the process of analysis; but gentlemen, it's fun. And I say it's high time we had a little fun in our profession.

The applause rang in my ears. I envisioned myself on the cover of Life, Look, Time, Screw. People would stop me on the street, begging for my autograph. Lovelies would approach me anywhere, everywhere, demanding I give them an orgasm. I was a hero. A savior.

But I knew it was fantasy. The real truth was, if I let out any of the things I was doing in my office, I'd be thrown out of the medical profession, Sued. Maybe imprisoned. It was a chilling thought -- especially since I had devoted so many years to becoming a psychiatrist. But it all happened so fast... I was into the whole thing so quickly; that I knew I couldn't get out of it. And I didn't want to stop. Each day brought me new, delicious sexual experiences. I was growing accustomed to fucking my patients. It's hard giving up a habit like that.

So every time I had any guilt feelings -- or -- concern about what might happen to me -- I pushed the feelings aside. And kept my concentration focused on what a delightful time I was having. Additionally, I had actually convinced myself that what I was doing to my patients was good for them; was making them healthier and happier.

Jeannette, for example. Her shyness had practically disappeared. Now, she came into my office almost proudly. In fact, at the last session, she seduced me. Wonderful progress.

Dorothy, the model, was coming along beautifully. She loved to replay all the disgusting things that had happened to her in her past. She was becoming so much more aware of how much she enjoyed sex. She would come to my office, remove all her clothing and say, "I've got a real dirty scene we can play together." Oh, she was doing so well.

Tina -- the young Sophia Loren -- was now convinced she wanted to become a psychologist. And I couldn't blame her. If being a psychologist was as much fun as I told her it was, nobody would pick another profession. She continued to sit in my recliner and play the role of doctor. And I continued to play the role of patient -- each time making like I was a different kind of sexual pervert. She was studying harder than ever.

My Japanese beauty, Suki, had changed her mind about wanting to return to the Orient. I was doing such a delicious job of convincing her that she was like every other woman. And I went to the most ridiculous -- but exciting -- extremes to prove it. Her responses were super normal.

Nancy, the rich bitch, was rapidly overcoming her problem of boredom. Using the wisdom of Turjin the Persian... she managed to find wild new unheard of sexual experiences to indulge in. As did I. But, of course, I would have continued to see her, even if she were cured. Seventy-five dollars a session was nothing to sneeze at, and I liked the extra pocket change.

Alice and I, of course, continued our little orgies with Ginger and John. We had opened up a whole new world to them, and they were grateful to us.

And, naturally, Alice and I continued our own delightful experiments with sex. We had recently found new and wonderful ways to use an electric toothbrush. With toothpaste. There was just no end to our variety.

But that Friday evening -- I had just finished performing Turjin the Persian's 34th Suggestion -- I became suddenly depressed. For months this thing -- this overwhelming desire for sex -- had taken hold of me. And yet, I hadn't told Alice. The longer I waited to tell her about it, the harder it became. It was the only secret I kept from Alice. But that one secret made me tense and uncomfortable around her. That secret was a violation of the honesty she and I always had. And I was convinced, that Friday, that if I didn't tell her soon, something terrible would happen to our marriage. The problem was, I was also convinced that if I did tell her -- something terrible might still happen to our marriage.

She knew the struggle I had gone through to become a psychiatrist. She would be horrified at how I was throwing it all away. But worse than that -- much worse -- I was terrified of what she would think of me. Fucking my patients! She would probably be enraged with jealousy. She would probably think she was living with a mad man. She would probably be right.

I did feel I was going crazy. Because of the way these feelings overwhelmed me... and directed me. Because my only concern was that someone else should find out about what I was doing. But for myself, I had no scruples. No morals. And it didn't bother me. It drove me wild with pleasure. I was becoming someone else, a pure case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. When my special patients entered, I wasn't the reputable doctor I used to be. I could feel my fangs projecting out of my mouth. I could feel chunks of ugly black hair growing all over my body. I felt like a lusting animal. A whole new person. I had no doubts about it. I was going crazy. And loving every minute of it.

I made the decision to tell Alice. I had to get it off my chest. In spite of the consequences, I'd have to tell her. It was the only way I could live with myself.

But I needed courage. I stopped in a nearby bar and ordered a martini. Sitting at the bar, next to me, was a window washer in coveralls. All of his cleaning equipment hung from a wide belt he wore around his waist. He was young, twentyish, and Puerto Rican. He had black curly hair and a greasy, pockmarked face. He smelled bad of perspiration, so I started to rise to move over one seat, but he put his hand on my arm.

"Hey. Meester. You want action?"

Now, if I had been approached like that just three months ago, I would have ignored the man. Moved away and forgotten about it. But I was somebody different. His very words made my heart race. There was something in his tone of voice that told me he had something exciting. In spite of the fact that I had just laid Nancy against my office wall some twenty minutes ago, I was interested. I turned my eyes to my glass and sat back down.

"What kind of... action?"

"There's this cunt... see... " -- he smelled of bourbon -- "and I can get you to see her eef you want. She's different, man. Real different. You'll love her." He burped.

I kept my eyes from him, not wanting to appear as interested as I really was.

"What makes her different?"

"Holy shit, man... you kidding? She's no ordinary prostitute. She's something special. You think I'd piss away seventy-five dollars on some dumb cunt? That's a fortune to me, man... but this cunt's worth it. I just seen her. Holy shit. She's a special cunt, man."

"What makes her so special?" Now I looked into his greasy face. He was ugly.

"Listen. I wouldn't give you no bum steer. I just been with her, see? You got seventy-five dollars? Find out yourself. I wouldn't piss away that much money if she wasn't some special cunt. I'll be a good friend of yours. I'll give you her phone number. She lives near here. Call her and make an appointment. She's some special cunt, man. An' if you don't believe me... ask Phil the bartender. He'll tell you. He's the guy who got me to see her."

Phil, a big burly balding man was inches from our conversation. He was wiping a glass. I wonder what else bartenders do.

"Jose's right, mister. She's a special cunt, all right. Been with her twice myself. Real special," Phil said.

I was convinced. I wanted to be convinced. I excused myself so I could call my wife. I phoned Alice and told her I'd be late. Had to visit one of my patients in Jersey who was having a breakdown. Another lie to Alice. I knew things would get bad. But I tried to dismiss the thought. Tonight, I was going to have a ball. I returned to my stool.

"Okay. What's her number?"

The bartender took a napkin from the bar and wrote down a number. Then he handed it to me.

"Real special, mister. Like to do favors for my customers. She's a real special cunt."

Then I looked at the number. 986-0040. I think my heart literally stopped. The blood drained away from my face. I felt cold chills, and started to tremble.

"Are you sure... this is the number?"

"986-0040," said Phil, "I got a good memory for things I don't want to forget. And mister, I don't want to forget this one. Real special cunt."

986-0040. It was my number. I couldn't believe it. I held the napkin close up to Phil's face.

"Here... are you positive this is the number? I mean, maybe it's 886... or 786... maybe your pencil slipped."

"No mistake. Call her yourself. But you better wait till after the weekend: She only works Mondays and Wednesdays. And she says no calls after five o'clock."

I sat there dazed. It was too incredible to believe. My wife... a prostitute? A special cunt? And I was concerned about telling Alice my problem? I wasn't sure exactly how I felt. But I did have trouble believing it. I ordered another martini. And another. Jose kept yakking away to me about what a special cunt Alice was, but I just kept staring into my glass. Finally, I screwed up some courage to ask a few questions.

"Hey, Jose. Is this cunt... uh... popular? I mean... a lot of guys see her? More than just one or two?"

Jose laughed, exposing his yellow teeth.

"Sure. Lots of guys. I don't know all of them. How could I? But there's me... and Phil... and Enrico, he's my older brother. I don't know. Off and on I hear guys talking about her. I guess maybe she's had the whole city up there."

"What's her name?"

"I don't know. I call her cunt. To her face, you know. She says she really likes that."

"Let me have another martini."

"You gonna see her?"

"Sure. If you tell me what's so special about her."

"Shit, man. You gotta pay to find out. But take my word. She's some cunt. You pay. You'll see."

Jose gave me another broad, yellow toothed grin.

"Okay," I said, "I'll pay and find out myself."

I called Alice back. I had to hold my hand to keep from shaking when I dialed. I tried to sound like my usual self.

"Patient's okay, Alice. Coming home." I hung up quickly.

As horrified as I was, another thought struck me. If I could catch Alice -- in the act -- of doing whatever she did that made her so special; then I'd have no problem telling her about what was going on with me. After all, can a prostitute get angry at a pervert? As disgusting as this whole discovery was, it would make my painful confession easy. So she was fucking around with other men, was she. And getting paid for it. The cunt. She could have at least charged a couple hundred.

Then another thought hit me, woozy as I was from the martinis. Instead of catching her in the act... why not call on her myself? The thought made me even dizzier than the drinks. Yes. Alice would do her special thing to me -- her husband -- and not even know it.

That evening -- and the whole weeekend -- were awful. Alice kept asking me what was wrong. I told her I was coming down with something... maybe a bad case of the flu. I was irritable and kept to myself.

"Maybe a little fucky-poo would straighten you out," she suggested, giving me a fast bump and grind with her hips. But I told her I felt too lousy and just wanted to be alone.

I spent the whole weekend planning my course of action. I would call Alice Monday morning, disguise my voice, and make an appointment with her. My only problem was how to disguise my appearance.

I considered everything. Even thought of shaving my goatee and getting a crew cut. But she'd still know it was me. I needed a foolproof way of hiding my identity.

Then it came to me. I was laying on my bed jerking off (no sex with Alice this weekend had made the pressure unbearable) . Just as I creamed all over my face and chest, it came to me.

I would tell her I was a V.I.P. in New York, and had to keep my identity a secret. I would put a paper bag over my head and cut out two holes for my eyes and ears. And I would wear a pair of dark sunglasses. Then, I'd buy a suit she's never seen me in. She'd never know. But I'd know... exactly why everybody thought Alice was a "special cunt."

Monday, at 9:30, I called her.

"Hello."

"I'd like to make an appointment with you," I strained my vocal cords and put four fingers in my mouth. "I'll bring the seventy-five dollars in cash."

"Who are you?" Alice asked.

"Call me V.I.P." I said in that strange muffled voice. "V.I.P?"

"V.I.P."

"Three o'clock today," Alice said. matter-of-factly. "I'll give you till five."

"Okay," I said.

"Call me cunt," said Alice.

"Okay, cunt. See you at three." She hung up first.

I canceled all my afternoon patients. Then I went to Alexander's and bought a kookie striped suit. And sun-glasses. I returned to my office and practiced cutting out holes on a few bags I had picked up. Finally, I got the holes just right. I slipped the bag over my head, put on the glasses and looked at myself in the mirror. Pretty weird. I looked like something out of a science fiction story. A box-headed gangster from another planet. Absolutely ridiculous. Especially for a professional like myself. But what the shit. It would serve its purpose. Alice would never recognize me.

Five minutes to three. I got out of the elevator, slipped the bag over my head and flipped on my sun-glasses. The sunglasses were dark -- the kind movie stars wear to keep themselves from being molested on the street. It was a little difficult seeing, but I managed to find our bell. I rang it.

"Who?" Alice said softly from the other side of the door. "V.I.P. And hurry. I'm horny." Oh, I'd get her goat.

When Alice opened the door, the two of us simply gazed at each other in silence. Neither of us expected what we saw. She was expecting a V.I.P. and before her stood a man disguised as a S.C.H.M.U.C.R. But my surprise must have been greater. Alice was dressed like a goddamned cat. A black leather cat's suit with a tail. Small holes for her eyes, nose and mouth. Ears and whiskers. And two holes in her costume so her tits stuck out; and a hole in her crotch so her pussy hairs showed through. Behind the hairs, I could see the faint suggestion of slit.

"Okay, cunt, please don't be alarmed," I said, "but I'm a V.I.P. in New York. And this disguise is necessary. I wouldn't want it known that I frequented a... prostitute." I said the last word as cutting as I could. "I may be the mayor. I may be the head of the Board of Education. I may be a famous athlete. And I may be a celebrity. You can guess if you like."

"I'll bet you're a congressman."

"Right."

"I won't tell a soul," Alice said. And with her mitten cat claws, she took hold of my arm and directed me inside.

"I'm a horny man," I said. "And a busy man. I have paper work stacked up to my ceiling and a TV guest appearance in three hours. So I don't want to delay. Here's the money." I placed a pile of bills on the bookshelf. "But 'I must know what the purpose of your cat getup is. If I do say so myself you look absolutely ridiculous. Although, I must tell you I am simply thrilled at the way your pussy hairs peep through." With one hand I grabbed hold of her pubic hairs and pulled.

"Ouch," Alice said, trying to get away from me. But I held a hank of her hair with a firm grip. If she were a man, I would have had her by the balls.

"Ouch? Why do you say ouch? Surely you wear this costume .. this way... with your cunt hanging out ... so your men friends can grab hold of it, right?"

"Ouch." Alice said. This time she managed to yank free of me. A couple wisps of her cunt hairs remained in my hand.

"And isn't this the sweetest thing? Your little titties are showing."

I went over to her and took each of her nipples between my fingers and pulled hard. I pulled so hard they got hard. As did I.

"Listen, Mr. Congressman, whoever you are. This is my show. You pay your money you get your show... my way."

Alice directed me over to the couch and made me sit down. I crossed my legs and folded my arms. I wasn't going to give Alice an inch! Although I had given myself about seven in my pants, I kept the bulge to myself. This afternoon, Alice was going to be a little frustrated.

"Purrr," said Alice, and she walked to the center of the living room.

"What's this purr shit?" I asked. "You're not a fucking cat. You're a lady. You don't have to purr for me."

"This is my show," Alice said.

Out of the blue -- no music, nothing -- Alice started to dance. This was her method of horning up her customers? Jesus. She picked a baddie. She gyrated her hips around and held each of her nipples in her hands.

"What's this... a cat dance? Ha ha ha. I didn't come here for dance instructions. I flunked my first and only two Arthur Murray lessons, so you're wasting your time, trying to teach me that step."

"You're the rudest customer I ever had," Alice said, raising her paw claws high in the air.

"You're the weirdest prostitute I ever had," I said. "Tell me. Does this cat costume really... arouse some men? I mean... do men actually get charged up just by looking at that ridiculous getup? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?"

She stopped dancing. "Have you? I've never seen anybody look so stupid in my life." She put her hands on her hips and glared at me through the slits in her cat mask.

"Well I came here to get laid. Not to watch a strip-tease. Or, is it that you just don't plan to ever take that weird costume off. Tell me, is fucking difficult with it on? Doesn't all that tight leather make it a little difficult to spread your legs? I would have picked a different costume if I were you. Maybe... a ghost costume. Just a sheet and a few random holes. Put the appropriate part of your body against the hole when necessary. And more freedom of movement with a sheet. But a cat's costume? Where'd you dream that up?"

Alice let out her breath, like a balloon being deflated. My poor wife. Trying so hard to be stimulating. And I wouldn't give her the slightest encouragement.

"If this is all the afternoon provides, I'm going to take my money back and leave. Christ. I thought I was going to get laid."

"Well, maybe you're just abnormal," she said.

"Me?"

"That's right, you." She moved a couple of steps closer. "See these, buddy?" she asked, pointing both hands at her tits, "they're tits. They do wild things to normal males. See this?" She took both of her cuntlips in her hand, "it's cunt, baby. Raw cunt. And you know what? Normal men react to that, too. But you. You're the weird one." She kept her hand on her pussy, awaiting my reply.

"Well, to be perfectly honest, leather turns me off. It has a funky smell. And it doesn't feel anything like the real McCoy. So if you thing you're horning me up with that outfit, think again. Although, on second thought, I'll let you keep the money. This is a great comedy routine. Ha ha ha." I was convinced Alice would give up her lowly life as a prostitute then and there.

"What are you... a homo?" Alice asked. Poor pussy. She was so desperate to hurt my feelings.

"Sorry. Just a normal, ordinary male. Just waiting. Waiting to get my money's worth." I brought my nails under my paper bag and bit one off.

"Okay," Alice said, and she came over to me. She leaned down so one breast was shoved against my bag -- my face. "If you'd care to suck it -- although I don't know how you could possibly manage with that contraption on your head -- but if you'd like to suck it, or feel it, go ahead. It's yours."

Mechanically, I took hold of her tit and examined it carefully.

"What's this?" I asked, as though I had never seen the likes before. "What's there to suck? There's hardly enough flesh on it."

"What do you mean? Hardly enough. Nobody else complains."

"I told you. I'm a V.I.P. To me, tit isn't just tit. There are breasts that are really delights to suck -- and I'm referring to big, fleshy, meaty breasts with a little weight behind them. And then there's... this. You're probably going to tell me... this... " -- and I yanked her tit close to my eye -- "that this excites men?"

"Of course it excites men. They like to see a woman's nipples get hard. It makes men feel important. It feeds their ego to have a women's titty stick out. So go ahead -" again she thrust it at me -- "don't be afraid of it. You paid your money. You can have it."

"But I don't want it," I sulked. I turned away from her as though I were a child who couldn't have what he wanted. "I don't like them," I said. "They're too small for me."

Alice's body went practically limp. She sighed heavily. She was having a difficult time selling her body. Good. "But... you like this... don't you?"

Alice brought both hands to her pussy and spread her pink lips wide. The gaping hole beckoned to me. Dark as things were through my sunglasses, I could never miss a pussy. My cock twitched at that lovely sight, but I kept it to myself.

"You been examined for syph?" I looked away from her cunt, and up at her eye slits. "You know prostitution is illegal in this state. But if you are one, they require a physical for syph. Have you had one?"

"What are you talking about?" Alice asked incredulously. "Jesus. You never heard of syph? Your head falls off. Your limbs fall off. You die in days. It's very ugly. I have to weigh all that against the joy of having a few minutes fuck. Now, with a conflict like that, I've got to be convinced your clean. I mean... imagine an important man like me having his head fall off from syph!"

"Well, I don't have syph!"

"No sores?"

"No!"

"Any strange dizzy spells?"

"No!"

"Rapid weight loss?"

"No."

"Then it looks pretty good for you. But really... you should have an examination every few months. Sometimes those syph germs just lay around for years... you know, never bothering you. Just relaxing, minding their own business. Then, suddenly, they get restless, bored. Want to start a little something. Then, ham! Before you know it... your head falls off. They're small. But very mighty."

"I don't have syphilis, thank you."

"Or tits."

"Now stop that. I have a very nice pair. MB is just a trifle large on me. And now that you know that I don't have any dirty diseases down here," -- she again held her cunt lips open for me -- "you can take me."

"Just like that?" I said.

"Just like that."

"What about feelings?" I asked.

"What?" Alice said. Her arms dropped frustratingly and limply to her sides. It wasn't her afternoon.

"Feelings. You know... those little sensations that tell you what's going on inside? You don't want me to just rip 'er out and fuck you, do you? I'm a V.I.P. A man with strong feelings. I don't just take cunt where I find it. Only with feeling.

"What do you want me to say, I love you? Okay I love you. Now let's do it."

"I would have thrown off my disguise right then, but I was having too much fun. Christ, she deserved it. Letting men fuck her for money. And dressed like that! Jesus Christ.

"You're just saying you love me. Prove it."

"How shall I prove it?"

"That's up to you."

"Well, I'd kiss you. But I'd have to guess where your lips are. Listen, why don't you take that paper bag off your head. I won't tell anyone who you are. I promise."

"Don't change the subject. We're talking about love."

"Love, shmove," Alice said disgustedly, "pull your pants down and shove. You paid your money." Her hands -- paws -- went back to her hips!

"Well, Christ, If I really have to," I said dejectedly. And my hands started on my belt.

"Listen... buddy... you don't have to," Alice said with a bit of anger.

"No... no... it's my duty as a responsible citizen. I paid my money. I can't shirk it now. I am not a person to backtrack on my word. I can imagine how badly you need a fucking. But I really don't understand... I mean if you always need it so bad... why you don't pay your customers. Because there's nothing in it for them." I lowered my pants to my knees. I couldn't hide the stiff monster. My playful banter with Alice had excited me. And her exposed tits and cunt helped. But most of all, I guess it was that cat costume. Come to think of it, it did have a sexual flavor. Leather and all.

"Ha," said Alice, pointing four claws at my stiff prick, "look at you, you liar. You're trying to tell me I don't turn you on... and look at you, you horny bastard. You're so hard it's sinful."

"I can explain everything."

"Don't bother."

"I have a disease. Hardeners Disease, it's called. Quite common in Upper Silesia... but extremely rare here in the states. The disease has only one symptom. A constant erection. I must spend the rest of my life stiff and hard. There is no way to make it go down. So please, don't say I'm lying to you about my desire for you. My prick is hard only in response to this terrible disease."

"You're putting me on," she said, without complete conviction.

"I wish I was. Can you imagine what it means to try and live a normal life with a permanent hard-on? Can you imagine? Special clothes, first. See these pants? My tailor had to give me a few extra inches in the crotch. My god, my embarrassment at telling him! Never again can I swim in public. Or sunbathe. Bumping into things is a constant problem. A constant painful problem. Why, I can't even sleep on my stomach if I want. Oh, it's a terrible disease. And my job... do you know what it's like to sit hiding behind a desk eight to ten hours a day? Being afraid to get up and go anywhere? Don't even have the freedom to go to the bathroom at work. And, why do I work longer hours than anybody? Because I wait till everyone goes first. Just so they don't see me."

"Oh dear," Alice said, thoroughly convinced, "I didn't know. I'm so sorry." With one paw claw she gently stroked my throbbing member, more with compassion than with sex.

"Yes, that feels good," I encouraged, "my poor prick is so unhappy, up there like that all the time. He appreciates your concern. See him throb? That's his way of saying thank you."

"Poor little thing," Alice cooed, still stroking.

"Seven an a half inches, measured from the tip of my balls. And at the time, my ruler was warped. So it's really about eight or nine inches. Don't say 'little.' "

"It was just an expression," Alice said.

She continued running her cat's claws slowly up and down my prick. The feeling was luscious. My juices were starting to boil inside. For a couple of minutes, the two of us just looked down at my prick. She, sadly, feeling sorry for the hard, living hell it had to go through constantly. And I looked down, fascinated at the way my cock responded to those cat claws.

"You know," I said finally, "there is a female counter-part to this disease. It's also common in Silesia... lower Silesia. I just don't know what it is about that place. They eat a lot of fruit; maybe that has something to do with it. But... but the woman "s disease is called The Liquidosis Disease. And you can imagine the symptom. Always wet. Constantly. The cunt never dries. It just keeps manufacturing pussy juice every second of every minute of every day. You can't hide the squooshing noises when you walk. And it's impossible to keep from staining anything that comes in contact with it. It even makes urinating painful. It's terrible. But you can always tell when a female is going to come down with the disease. It can be prevented, if spotted early enough... but once the disease happens, there's no cure."

"How can you tell a female's going to get it?" Alice asked, curious. Her claws were equally curious, for now they had glided down to my balls, and were exploring away down there.

"The mimbus membrane."

"The what?" Momentarily, Alice stopped her stroking.

"Don't stop, please." -- Alice continued with my balls -- "The mimbus membrane. It becomes prominent when the disease is imminent."

"The mimbus membrane?"

"Yes... here."

I took Alice by the hips so she was standing just in front of me. Then I took one finger and let it slide through her bush, and deep into the hot canals of her cunt. My finger wiggled around inside.

"I'll show you where it is. If... I could only find it." Wiggling it faster now. "But, say... you are quite wet, yourself. Surely you don't suffer from this disease?"

"No"

"Oh, I see. Then you must be sexually excited." My finger continued poking around in her inners. Christ, it was like a boiling furnace in there.

"Did you find... the membrane?"

"No. Not yet. But I will."

My finger started pulling out. I let it slide over her wet pussy lips. Then I let it stop on her swollen clit.

"Aha,"' I said, "I think I've found it." I brought my thumb next to my finger so I could roll her hardened bud around in my fingers.

"That's my clit."

"Ah, yes. But you see, the membrane is hidden inside. When the membrane becomes prominent there's a slight swell on the left side of the clit."

"Well, if you knew it was on the clit, why did you hunt around inside me for it?" A good question from a cynical wife.

"Jesus. I'm not a doctor," I said. That seemed to satisfy her.

But another kind of satisfaction was on both of our "Don't stop, please." -- Alice continued with my balls -- "The mimbus membrane. It becomes prominent when the disease is imminent."

"The mimbus membrane?"

"Yes... here."

I took Alice by the hips so she was standing just in front of me. Then I took one finger and let it slide through her bush, and deep into the hot canals of her cunt. My finger wiggled around inside.

"I'll show you where it is. If... I could only find it." Wiggling it faster now. "But, say... you are quite wet, yourself. Surely you don't suffer from this disease?"

"No"

"Oh, I see. Then you must be sexually excited." My finger continued poking around in her inners. Christ, it was like a boiling furnace in there.

"Did you find... the membrane?"

"No. Not yet. But I will."

My finger started pulling out. I let it slide over her wet pussy lips. Then I let it stop on her swollen clit.

"Aha,"' I said, "I think I've found it." I brought my thumb next to my finger so I could roll her hardened bud around in my fingers.

"That's my clit."

"Ah, yes. But you see, the membrane is hidden inside. When the membrane becomes prominent there's a slight swell on the left side of the clit."

"Well, if you knew it was on the clit, why did you hunt around inside me for it?" A good question from a cynical wife.

"Jesus. I'm not a doctor," I said. That seemed to satisfy her.

But another kind of satisfaction was on both of our minds. Her hips had started rotating in response to my clit twiddlings... and, of course, my diseased member demonstrated it's prominent symptom.

"But... you don't have that problem. Your membrane's fine." I worked my finger faster. Her juices flowed faster. "But why don't you come over here and sit down a moment. Get off your feet. You must be tired. All your men customers must really tire you out."

I gave her a seat in my lap, facing me, her legs straddling me, so our heated organs met. My cock inched its way into her hole, and I gave her hard, little thrusts with it. I brought my head, instinctively, down to her tit, but suddenly realized sucking was an impossibility with my paper bag. But I wasn't ready to remove it, yet. So I compromised, and brought my hand up instead and' gave her tits a few good squeezes.

"Purrr," Alice said.

"Nice pussy," I said.

It's hard to be sarcastic when you yourself are hard. And going at it. My wife never felt so good. Maybe it was the cat costume that turned me on. I kept imagining it wasn't Alice -- which was easy since her identity was so well cloaked -- and the thought of making it with someone else added to my excitement. It's always nicer to fuck a stranger. So I saved my sarcasms toward her... at least until I came.

And speaking of coming, I could no longer hold back the charged up sperms that waited at the threshold, with their millions of tails wagging impatiently. With both of Alice's tits in my hands, I arched my back, and jetted the little liquid fellows out. There was more than a million for sure. Two hundred thousand at a time, they flew out in gushing thrusts.

"Uuuuh uuuuh," I said.

Alice's timing as always, was splendid. She met come with come. Grabbing me around the back with both arms, she started kissing the top of my paper bag, and let her legs shoot out. With a thousand quivers and trembles, Alice grabbed tighter to me, holding her cunt up as tight as possible so I'd be thrust as deep as possible inside her. Then she rested her head on my shoulder, her arms still around me, and seemed to collapse from exhaustion.

"I have an absolutely delicious surprise for you," I whispered sweetly in Alice's ear.

Ignoring my comment, Alice suddenly pulled her pelvis away from me and stood up.

"Hey. You don't have a hard-on, anymore. You're soft as a clam. What's this stuff about Hardener's disease!"

"You cured me. Thank you."

"Oh, bullshit. I had you horned up like the rest. You phoney."

"Don't call me names. What do you think you are... selling your body to anybody who can get the cash as well as his cock up. You're a goddamned prostitute. I wouldn't go around calling other people names if I were you."

"Well, now I can't wait to tell you my wonderful surprise."

"I'll hold my breath, if it makes you feel better."

"Are you ready? You know who I am. Guess."

"Haven't the vaguest... "

"Try. I'll give you some clues. I live in the neighborhood."

"This is a stupid guessing game. Anyway, in New York, nine million people live in the neighborhood."

"On this block."

"So do thousands."

"In this building."

"Big deal."

"Here."

"What do you mean... here?"

"I live here. In this apartment, dummy." I quickly flipped off my sunglasses. and pulled the paper bag over my head. God, had it been hot in there. "It's me. Your sweet loving husband. Remember? The doctor? And I've caught you." Alice stared dumbly without saying a word. "It's me Alice. And now we're even. Because there's something I've been wanting to tell you about myself for a long time."

At that moment, the front door opened. I had to blink hard. It was absurd.

"Alice!" I shouted. "That can't be you. You're here."

"Is that you!" she shouted. I was sitting there with my cock hanging out.

"Alice?" I said again. My mind was playing tricks on me. I just couldn't put my brains all together.

Alice stalked over to Alice... or whoever the cat lady was.

"Bonnie," Alice said, "what are you doing with him?" She glared at her. "That wasn't part of the agreement."

My head looked from Alice to... Bonnie? That was Alice's sister.

The cat girl removed her mask from her face. My god. It was Bonnie! And I thought I had just fucked my wife. Oh, God.

"What are you doing here!" Bonnie said. "Part of our agreement is that I have the place till five. You said you wouldn't bother me."

"It's six," Alice said.

"Is it really that late?" Bonnie said. "Gosh, I'm sorry."

I wasn't sure if I should be on the offensive or defensive. I chose the former, since it was easier to deal with.

"Alice. What the hell is Bonnie doing in our house!"

"I can explain everything about that! But what are you doing here... with her?"

"I can explain that."

"What is going on here," Bonnie demanded.

"You tell me," said Alice. "Why are you with my husband?"

"I didn't know it was him. He told me he was a V.I.P. and needed a disguise." She reached for the paper bag and glasses. "He wore this over his head. I didn't know. Honest."

"He... what?" She looked at me. "Didn't you work today?"

"Never mind that now," I said, angrily, and with confusion. "Just tell me what Bonnie is doing in my fucking house!" I got so angry, my prick flopped around.

"I want to know what you're doing here," Alice said.

"One thing at a time," I said. "You tell me what your sister is doing here."

Alice sat down on the wicker chair. "Well, honey... "

"Don't honey me."

Bonnie interrupted for the explanation. Christ, this was weird.

"Your wife let's me use your apartment twice a week, Mondays and Wednesdays," Bonnie said, her tits and cunt still hanging out of her costume. "She didn't tell you because she knew you wouldn't approve."

"That was sweet of you, Alice," I said sarcastically.

"Anyway... " Bonnie continued, "Mondays and Wednesdays I have... male callers. I can't do it at my place because my boyfriend isn't working now. He just stays around the apartment all day and writes poetry. I couldn't do it there and let him know about me. And also, I couldn't charge what I charge if I had men come up to my place. It just doesn't have any class. Not like your place."

"Now," said Alice, "now that you understand that part of the story... suppose you tell me what you're doing here!"

I explained everything. The bar. The phone number. My disguise. I cleared myself with both of them. But then, no one said a word. Bonnie stood there with her hard nipples jutting out, and her pussy just as prominent. I sat on the couch with my cock laying on my leg; although now it started to twitch a little. Alice sat on the wicker chair and looked at both of us, with a peculiar expression on her face. Finally I broke the silence.

"Well, well. No reason to just sit around looking at each other. Why waste precious time?" I held my semi-hard cock in my hand. "First come first served," I said, waving it back and forth.

Alice and Bonnie both made a bee-line for it. A couple of well brought up girls.

"Let's not be greedy," I said.

Both licked my stiff prick together. What a pair of sisters. Hungrily they devoured my organ. My balls, my asshole, nothing was left untouched. A family affair.

"Why don't you take your clothes off, Alice?" I suggested. "You look so... restricted like that. Alice had proceeded my words by a button. She was stark naked in a second.

"Amazing," I said. "Look at you two. Here. Both of you stand in front of me." They did as I suggested.

I took Alice's tit in one hand, Bonnie in the other.

"Identical. Absolutely uncanny how identical they are." I rolled their nipples around. "And see... they both protrude and harden in exactly the same way. No wonder I didn't know it was you, Bonnie."

The two gals stood there, smiling. Horned up at the whole thing.

"And your cunts are really very similar, too," I said. One of my fingers sloshed into Bonnie's cunt, the other slid into Alice's. "Same deepness. Same softness. Same heat. Same amount of pubic hair. And... same reaction."

As I wiggled both fingers inside them, they both responded identically. Like a pair of twins, they gyrated their hips around.

"How 'bout your assholes? I bet they're different." I removed my fingers and nudged the two of them to turn around. "Would you both spread your cheeks for a sec? This is really fascinating."

Both did. Alice took her white, fluffy cheeks and separated them. Bonnie took hold of the back of her cat costume and spread her cheeks. It was simply unbelievable how similar they were.

"My goodness. Isn't this something. Have you two girls ever compared assholes before? If you haven't you really should. Why, their coloring, their circumference... everything about them is simply identical. I wonder if they're equally as deep." A finger went into each, and both their asses rotated at the thrust.

"Aaaaaa. Aaaaaah," I heard in unison from them.

"And equally deep, too. Amazing."

My fingers channeled in and out of their assholes. Four soft asscheeks, all white and creamy, gently shook in rhythm to my fingers. A day off from the office should always be this exciting.

"I wonder about taste. I'll bet the two of you are different flavored. But why speculate? Let's get down to business and find out, shall we?"

In unison, the girls nodded their head, and increased the wiggling of their asses.

First I tasted Alice. I let my tongue spin around the outside of her hole, then darted my tongue in and out swiftly. Then I removed my tongue and licked my lips.

"Let's see. Alice... you're like... well how shall I describe it? I guess vanilla is what you taste like. Yes, vanilla. Now, let's see about you, Bonnie.

I moved my head over to the next asshole. Bonnie's hole got the same licking, taste treat I had given Alice. Then I took my tongue out.

"How very odd. I have discovered a difference. Bonnie... did you know you have a sort of a pistachio flavor up there?" I licked a little more. "Yes, without a doubt. It's pistachio."

"I'll bet our cunts taste different, too," said Alice. Oh, how she loved these kinds of games.

"Well, turn around girls, and let's find out. This is most... interesting." My cock would have chosen another word, standing up there like that.

The girls swiveled around. I started by sampling Alice. She widened her legs. I stared on her clit until it got firm, then played with her pink wet cuntlips. Then I stuck my tongue deep into the orifice.

"Uh... let's see... I'd say that tasted like... yes, the salty ocean. Did you know that, dear? You taste like the salty ocean. I must go out and buy Ocean Spray drink. I had no idea it might taste like this. Now, you Bonnie... "

Such a good sampling job. So thorough. I tongued every square centimeter of, in and around her pussy.

"Now that is truly interesting," I said, "it's got kind of a licorice flavor. What a combination, Bonnie. Pistachio in the back and licorice on the front. Your combination isn't half as interesting, honey. Vanilla and salty ocean. But then, I didn't marry you for your combination."

Alice took hold of my goatee with one hand. "Never mind my combination. Don't just sit around here getting us all hot and horny. Let's get on with it. Christ. Vanilla and salty ocean."

"Honest honey. That's what you taste like. Would I lie to you?" And then I remembered. My God, I was going to confess to Alice. I had almost confessed to Bonnie, but fortunately Alice had walked in right then. And now that I knew there was nothing I had on Alice... how could I tell her?

"Well... " said Alice, "don't just leave" us here panting. Fuck us, will you?"

"Is he always this difficult?" Bonnie asked.

"Often," said Alice.

I was able to bury my problem for the moment. With two hot pussies in fuckable reach of a man, he has no problems. Except which to take first.

"Who shall I start with?" I asked.

They both said "me," together.

"Well I can't do you both at once, for Chrissakes. Chose between yourselves.

"Odds," said Alice.

"Evens," said Bonnie.

"Once, twice, three, shoot," said Alice.

Alice put out two fingers, Bonnie three.

"Five. That's odd. So I go first." It was obviously a childhood game of theirs.

"At least two out of three," said Bonnie Their fingers flicked out twice more.

"I won," said Bonnie.

"You withheld your third finger when you saw how many I had," said Alice.

"Will you two make up your mind already? I thought you were both so horny."

"He's my husband, so I'm going first," said Alice. "Honey, do me on the floor, okay?" She flopped down on the carpet and opened her legs.

"I'll be with you in a moment," I said to Bonnie, quickly kissing her big nipple as a sweet, momentary, parting gesture.

I landed on my wife, and shoved my tool in. We bounced around like a couple of wild animals.

"Are you through, yet?" Bonnie asked.

"Will you shut up and wait your turn," Alice said sharply.

I thrust harder and harder.

"Come on, already," Bonnie said.

Bonnie then took me by the shoulders and rolled me right off Alice. I landed on my back, and Bonnie pounced down on top of me.

"Oooh, it feels so good," she said, thumping against me.

"Now just one minute," Alice said. "I'm not through, yet."

Alice took Bonnie by the hair and yanked her off me Then Alice sat down on my prick, facing me, and started to ride. Musical cunts was better than musical chairs.

"You come near me and I'll kill you," Alice said to her sister. Alice kept her eyes glued and glaring at Bonnie as she came. Alice jiggled faster and faster up and down like she was on a seesaw. My cock was getting the heat treatment. Alice grabbed onto my legs, opened her mouth, and let out a moan.

"Mmmmm, aaaaah. I'm coming, honey."

"Well hurry it up, will you?" Bonnie implored, standing nearby, massaging her own cunt.

"Okay, impatient bitch. You take him now. I'm pooped."

Alice got off and Bonnie almost flew on; same position as Alice had. We rocked and rolled and reeled together. Just before I came, I spotted Alice sitting in the wicker chair reading the New York Times. When she lost interest in something, she really lost interest.

I thought my prick would break off the way Bonnie crashed against it. The way she twisted and angled her hips to insure that she get every living inch of my hard cock. Then in a frenzy, together, we came. Sensational.

"We've come," I said to Alice. "You can put the paper down. Don't be rude. We have a guest."

"Very funny," said Alice.

"I'm going to have to be going. My boyfriend's going to worry if I don't get home. Bonnie lifted her cat costume body from me and went to the bedroom. Alice and I didn't speak. She was too engrossed in the fashion section. And I was too concerned about how I could possibly make my confession to her.

Bonnie came out of the bedroom looking like something human again. She wore a blue dress, and she carried a small bag that obviously contained her cat costume.

"Alice, I'll be talking with you. So long."

"Wait a sec," I said, "didn't you forget something?"

"Like what?"

"My money. Give me my money back."

"Screw you. I worked for it," she said, and she slammed the door after her.

"The nerve of your sister," I said angrily.

"Serves you right," Alice said without looking up from the paper.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it serves you right for not trusting me. And for trying to catch me in the act. I'm really disappointed in you. I've never done anything behind your back. I always tell you... whatever I do. Remember that little pact we made just before we got married? No secrets. Anything goes... as long as we tell each other. You didn't really think I broke that pact, did you? What kind of marriage would this be if we kept secrets from each other!"

I swallowed my Adam's apple hard. Gulp. She wasn't making it easy for me to confess. Shit. I had broken her precious little pact. I couldn't tell her now. The atmosphere was all wrong.

"What are you looking so glum about?" she asked, looking up from her paper.

"Nothing," I said.