Chapter 7
Paul Latham was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his mind on what his new patient was saying. Such was always the case when he found seated in the chair next to his desk a female blessed with uncommon beauty, one whose vulnerability set his heart to pounding and his prick to thickening.
Julie Lamb, Mrs. Laurence Lamb, to be exact, was truly a visual delight, a female favored by the gods with a face and figure to lure to her side every male whose pecker was still capable of rising to the occasion. Only those with diseased dicks could ignore her dazzling good looks.
She was a tall, big-boned beauty, a ravishing, raven-tressed, light-skinned creature with large chocolate eyes, full, sensuous lips, well-shaped ears and nose. And as he listened to her disclosures, interjecting a comment or nodding his head on occasion, Paul found it easy enough to imagine the luscious Mrs. Lamb in a state of sexual excitement, writhing in naked abandon on a bed and pleading for prick.
Actually, his interest in his patient as a sexual partner had blossomed twenty minutes ago, lust rearing its head the second she entered his office and, somewhat nervously, made her way to the chair he suggested she take. It was then, as he quickly took in her small, lovely smile, her soft, unblemished skin, that he first started wondering what Mrs. Laurence Lamb looked like when bare-assed naked.
Now he went about the business of mentally undressing her, removing her colorful peasant blouse with the ruffled sleeves and tugging down her loose-fitting flared skirt. In his mind's eye he saw the melon-colored blouse and the tangerine skirt lying in a crumpled heap at her feet, near the brown casual shoes she had kicked off at his request.
Mrs. Lamb was almost naked, her firm, full body clad only in brassiere and panties. She was talking to him, smiling sexily and asking him to hurry and finish stripping her. He saw himself obeying immediately, stepping up to unclasp the breast-hugging bra and then, after tossing the constricting garment aside, working down the clinging briefs to expose her tantalizing twat.
"-And so, Doctor, you can see why I'm so disturbed. I came to you because-Doctor? Are you listening?"
"Oh, yes, of course," Paul answered, snapping to attention. "I was just running through my mind something you mentioned at the start of our interview."
"Oh? What was that?"
Paul fumbled for an answer, grasping the first thing that entered his mind. "Er, your reply to my question about previous sexual experiences with other females. If you remember, you said that prior to your involvement with, er-what was the woman's name again?"
"Helen. Helen Lowry."
"Right. Mrs. James Lowry. Well, you stated that prior to embracing this woman sexually you had never even entertained the idea of lesbian love. Is that correct?"
"Yes, Doctor, it is. I feel so awful about the whole thing. So guilty, I mean. It wasn't bad enough that I allowed myself to be seduced, but I had to go and enjoy it. I don't know what in heaven's name got into me, Doctor."
A few potent drinks and several stiff cocks probably, Paul thought.
"I'm beginning to think that Larry and I made a tragic mistake when we decided to experiment with wife-swapping. I never thought I'd get myself so screwed up sexually at a spouse-trading party, Doctor. I mean, does homosexual activity usually take place when couples get together for the purpose of swapping?"
"I don't think it's as uncommon as you may think, Julie. You must remember-oh, do you mind if I call you by your first name?"
"No, of course not."
"Good," Paul smiled. "Now as I was saying, you must remember that we are all, each and every one of us, capable of performing homosexual acts if the time and place seem correct. Ostensibly, couples gather at a swap-party to exchange mates for an evening of heterosexual intercourse, but this in no way precludes the possibility of so-called unnatural encounters taking place."
"You mean the atmosphere of a swap-party is conducive to that sort of thing?"
"Well, not exactly. What I'm getting at is that when you have a number of people revelling in naked abandon, in a room drenched in the sounds and smell of sex, all things are possible. Imaginations are given free reign and sexual experimentation suddenly seems not at all perverse but fitting and proper."
"I-I think I understand what you mean, Doctor. But what I want to know is if there's any chance of my becoming an out and out lesbian. I mean, I love my husband very much and I wouldn't want another woman to come between us."
"Are you saying that you're afraid of becoming addicted to lesbianism?"
"Well, I did enjoy my initial experience so much. There's no way I can deny that, Doctor. And I just know that if Helen suggests another lovemaking session I'll find it very, very difficult to say no. She's a most persuasive woman and-well, she thrilled me to pieces at that darn party."
"I see," said Paul seriously, in a scholarly tone of voice he hoped would impress his beautiful patient. As he turned his attention to the notes he had made during Julie Lamb's narrative and pretended to study them, he collected his thoughts and made ready to spring his trap.
"So what do you think, Doctor? Is it possible for a woman like me, one who really enjoys heterosexual relations with her husband and other men, to almost overnight turn lesbian? It sounds so crazy, so unbelievable, and yet-"
"What I think, Julie," Paul began, looking up from his notes, "is that we should attempt to learn if you are by nature a true bisexual. And to that end I propose an experiment."
"An experiment?" Julie asked, the expression on her smooth, unblemished face one of skepticism.
"Yes, an experiment. The success of which will require your complete co-operation. You must place absolute trust in me and do all that I say without question. Only then we will be able to obtain a true reading of your sexual self."
"Will it hurt, Doctor?" Paul smiled. "Not in the least. In fact, I think you'll find what I have in mind most enjoyable." To himself he added, and very sexually satisfying, lovely lady. "Wha-What do I have to do?"
"Just this, Julie. I am going to call my receptionist, Miss Mandell, in here and you will permit her the chance to arouse you sexually. Then, at the conclusion of-"
"I-I don't think I could do that, Doctor," Julie broke in. "I-I don't even know the woman."
Paul smiled his best fatherly smile. "Mary is a most attractive young lady, Julie. I'm sure you'll find her a very stimulating sexual partner."
"But it's so-so unconventional, Doctor. I mean, it's not at all the kind of help I thought you'd be able to give me." In her mind's eye Julie saw herself locked in a lewd embrace with the girl she had spoken to briefly while waiting in the outer office. Mary was an attractive female all right, she thought. There could be no denying that. But could she strip down in front of the doctor and let Mary fondle her private parts? Could she come with another female, a stranger really, while Dr. Latham watched the passionate proceedings?
"Oftentimes it is the most unconventional method which proves most satisfactory," Paul asserted authoritatively. "Psychoanalysis has come a long way since the days of Sigmund Freud, you know. Today nothing is considered verboten if it will help the patient gain real insight into his or her particular problem."
"Yes, I know that, Doctor. Still-"
"Tell you what, Julie. If it will make it easier for you to enjoy sex with my receptionist, I can place you under hypnosis."
"Hypnotize me?"
"Yes. Do you have any objections?"
"Well-no, I suppose not. I guess it will make it easier for me. But I've never been hypnotized before. I may not be a good subject. Maybe it won't work, Doctor."
Paul smiled. "Well how about if we find out, Julie? I'll just buzz Mary and have her join us for a little while."
Thinking that his twenty-five-year-old patient was certainly not as bright as she was beautiful, Paul buzzed Mary on the office intercom and asked her to come into his office. Less than thirty seconds later the brunette bombshell appeared.
"Yes, Doctor, can I be of assistance?" asked Mary, as she walked to Paul's large desk.
"I need your help in a little experiment, Mary. I believe you know Mrs. Lamb here."
Mary smiled at the woman sitting primly in the chair next to her employer's desk. "Yes, we exchanged pleasantries in the waiting room."
"Mrs. Lamb-Julie, that is-has expressed concern about a sexual encounter she had with another female at a wife-swapping party she attended with her husband. The purpose of this little experiment is to determine if Julie is a natural bisexual."
Mary managed to suppress a grin and said, "I see, Doctor. And you want me to make love to Mrs. Lamb, correct?"
"Exactly. Then Julie and I will engage in sexual relations. At the conclusion of this experiment Julie will weigh the pleasures derived from sex with you against the pleasure she derived from intercourse with me. It may very well be that she'll find both acts equally enjoyable. In which case we will have demonstrated that it is possible for homosexuality and heterosexuality to dwell in harmony within the same individual."
What a crock of shit that is, Mary thought, playing her part as she nodded her head in understanding. But she had to hand it to Paul. He could verbalize the most inane thought in such a way as to have those within earshot applauding his sharp, analytical mind and keen perception. In short, he was a master when it came to snowing people-especially his female patients, so many of whom were so quick to place in him all their trust and confidence.
"You mean," Julie said, "that I might just have to learn to live with my bisexual nature?"
Paul nodded. "Yes, precisely. As a great many people have done before you."
"I see."
"So then, shall we get started? Mary, will you lock the door and then undress while I put Julie in a trance?"
"You're going to hypnotize her?"
"Yes. It will take but a few minutes."
Mary turned and, allowing herself a smile, walked to the door and locked it. She wondered how many psychologists there were like Paul Latham. And how many women they had conned into baring their bodies as well as their souls. In the name of analysis, of course. One thing was for damn sure; if she ever decided that she required psychiatric help, she'd check, double-check, and triple-check the doctor's qualifications and reputation.
Five minutes later Mary was bare-assed naked and standing near the couch, one hand gently stroking her brown-haired twat as she watched Paul put the trusting Mrs. Lamb under hypnosis. There had been times in the past when Paul, exceptionally eager to get in a patient's panties, resorted to hypnosis to hurry matters along. So Mary had not been all that surprised when informed of his decision to hypnotize the ravishing, raven-tressed Julie.
Nor had she been surprised when he asked her to make love to the woman. On three other occasions he had requested that she engage in lesbianism, with patients whose problems were similar to the one plaguing Julie Lamb.
Mary had no qualms about engaging in sex with another female. While she favored heterosexual humping, the hungry coupling of cock and cunt as male and female meshed and became one, she was also capable of coming with a woman. As a change of pace, lesbianism was rather nice, since it provided her with the chance to fully explore the body of another of her sex.
It was especially nice, Mary thought, when that woman was a true beauty. Julie Lamb was that and then some. Stroking Julie's smooth, resilient flesh, tonguing her full, firm tits, sucking on her odorous snatch, and doing whatever it took to arouse the stunning woman wouldn't be at all difficult.
"Okay," Paul said at last, "I think that ought to do it. The ravishing Mrs. Lamb will now obey my every command."
"You should be ashamed of yourself, Doctor," Mary said with a grin. "If she would obey me, I'd tell her to give you a good swift kick in the balls."
"Very funny, sweetheart. Instead of making with the wisecracks, why don't you give me a hand undressing her?"
"Will you fuck me when she's gone?"
"I doubt that I'll have any strength left," Paul answered, fumbling with the buttons on Julie's peasant blouse. "I intend to screw this broad to hell and back."
"Will she remember what happened?" Mary asked, dropping into the couch next to Julie to assist in the woman's denuding.
"Only if I tell her to. And I think I will, because I want her to think back on our screwing session the next time she gets the itch to be laid."
"Pervert," Mary cracked.
"Yeah, but you like me just the same, smartypants. Now let's hurry up and unwrap this beautiful package of female pulchritude. I want to see what her husband sees all the time."
Working together, quickly and efficiently, Mary and Paul undressed the (hypnotized Julie, pulling and turning her this way and that as they removed her blouse, skirt, bra, shoes, and sand-colored panty hose. When she was naked, Paul arranged her on her back on the couch and told Mary to get to work.
"Mmmm, my pleasure, boss," purred Mary, staring down at the voluptuous woman. "She looks good enough to eat."
"Then go ahead and feast, baby. You'll be oiling the way for my pecker."
As Mary climbed up onto the couch and eased herself down atop Julie, Paul backed away a few steps and started removing his own clothes. In no time at all he was naked, his meaty cock a sturdy fleshy stanchion as it jutted out from his warm loins. He couldn't wait to bury his pulsing bone in the warm, sloppy mush of Julie's clasping cunt.
Mary wriggled snake-like atop Julie's voluptuous body, luxuriating in the warm, spongy feel of the woman's smooth flesh as she rubbed herself into it. She toyed with Julie's tempting tits, rolling those gelatinous globes of succulent meat in her hands and tweaking the rose-colored nipples.
Squirming up the black-haired beauty's firm form, Mary proceeded to lave her face with lecherous abandon, licking and kissing and nibbling as she bathed Julie's beautiful face with syrupy saliva, the wanton washing concluding with a deep soul kiss square on Julie's lips.
Then, inching back down, Mary pushed herself up and stiffened her arms. With sensual grace she rolled her shoulders and brushed her breasts over Julie's, pointy nipple poking pointy nipple, four mounds of spongy, squeezable flesh flattening together as Mary worked her tempting tits into her partner's marvelous mammaries.
Moving lower still, Mary slithered downward and trailed her tongue across the smooth, flat plane of Julie's tummy. A quick exploration of the belly button, her tongue digging deep and swirling sexily in that wrinkled indentation, and Mary was on the move again, worming her way toward the crinkled patch of dark pubic hair surrounding Julie's sex slit.
"Right, that's the way, baby," Paul said thickly. "Go down on the beautiful bitch. Eat her out, Mary."
"Mmmm, she smells good here," Mary noted, whiffing the female scent of her partner.
With that, the saucy brunette buried her head between Julie's warm thighs and plastered her face in the woman's odorous snatch, her tongue snaking from between her lips to lick up and down the sensitive sex lips.
It was at this point that Julie became alive, a tremulous moan of pleasure escaping from her throat as she arched her hips off the couch. She had been relatively quiet up till now, seemingly content to just lie back and let her partner do all the work. But now, as if suddenly signaled to participate more actively, to shed her inhibitions, she allowed her desire to be fueled by Mary's hungry munching of her labia.
Nice, very nice, Paul thought, his eyes glued to the two desirable females on the office couch. Mary was really getting into it now, sucking sluttishly on Julie's tasty twat, her head in crazy, sensuous weave as she labored with obvious delight. Having Mary around could at times be a damn nuisance, but there were other times, like now, for instance, when he appreciated her availability, her willingness to perform all manner of sex acts.
"Let her eat you at the same time," he said to his sassy receptionist. "C'mon, baby, twist around and give Julie your smelly snatch."
"She's getting wet fast, Paul," said Mary, lifting her face from Julie's warm, saliva-coated snatch. "Maybe she really does prefer women to men."
"She enjoys them both." Paul smiled lewdly. "My patient is just an old-fashioned hot-assed broad. If she didn't like getting fucked and sucked, she wouldn't have joined that spouse-switching club with her husband."
"They're the best kind, aren't they, Doctor? Old-fashioned, hot-assed broads, I mean."
"There's none better, sweetheart. Now come on, position yourself so that Julie can munch on your cunt while you're slobbering over hers."
"Anything you say, boss. It sure as hell beats taking dictation, or typing up bills."
With that, Mary clambered off the couch and got to her feet. Seconds later she was climbing back onto the couch, this time positioning herself so that she was straddling Julie, her impudent fanny hovering over the beautiful woman's face
"Good. Now get your face back down on her twat-and give her yours to eat."
Mary didn't have to "give" Julie anything. She took it. The sight of Mary's succulent ass wriggling over her face, the proximity of Mary's darling pussy and the intoxicating smell of same, inflamed Julie's passions and sent a thrill of lust rippling up her spine. She reached up and enfolded Mary's hips with her arms, then applied pressure and forced the female's inviting sex nest down against her face.
With undisguised pleasure Paul watched the two women devour each other's tempting twat. Locked now in a scintillating sixty-nine, the couch sagging from their combined weight, Mary and Julie feasted like females famished, hungrily and with unfettered abandon.
Strange gurgling sounds of lust bubbled up from Julie's throat as she chewed her cunt like a carnivore, her fingers digging into the pliant flesh of Mary's hips as she mashed her beautiful face even harder into the pulsing pussy and slurped up the sticky sex juices seeping from the fleshy faucet.
Mary, not to be outdone, performed with a passion befitting the lusty lesbian, rubbing her face hotly into Julie's well-washed womanhood and driving her tongue deep inside the viscous cove soon to contain Paul's throbbing cock.
Said cock was at the present time being massaged with enthusiasm, Paul having formed a fleshy funnel with his right hand, fingers curled to his palm. Now he was pumping his prick, vigorously pleasing himself, shaking his shaft as might a peeping Tom aroused by the lewd spectacle of a couple coupling.
He suddenly decided to come, to send his seed hurtling through the air toward the couch, toward the two merrily munching on each other's slick, leaking love holes. It would be easy enough, he thought, to get it up again. He would order Julie to plop his limp organ into her sweet mouth and suck him hard again.
Paul stepped closer to the couch and then, as a gutteral moan of pleasure ripped from his throat, he spilled his creamy semen, the syrupy come streaking in an arc from his ejaculating tool toward the torrid twosome on the couch. Through glazed eyes he saw his load splash down against Mary's smooth back, the globs of gooey semen speckling her flesh and trickling toward her provocatively positioned posterior.
Stepping closer still, he aimed his jerking rod at various targets, using it as a hose to spray the two females with his viscid come, directing the spewing seed toward Mary's hair, then back to her ass, now to Julie's half-hidden face, then back again to his receptionist's tousled tresses.
Only faintly aware of Paul's actions, Mary and Julie continued slobbering over each other's now sodden snatch, passionate gasps and breathless grunts busting from their throats as they ate with gluttonous appetites.
And then it was upon them, the moment of truth, the sweet, blissful culmination of their lusty labors. Waves of intense delight washed over Julie, her body in heated tremble as she slurped up the come flowing from Mary's twitching twat, Mary moaned, the throaty sound of satisfaction partially smothered by her partner's steaming, soupy snatch.
For a full minute the females rested, permitting their naked bodies time to relax as they lovingly licked each other's come-drenched twats, their tongues curling gently around clits still hard and pulsing. Then Mary pushed herself up off the couch and got to her feet, her knees feeling rubbery and not strong enough to support her weight.
"Whew! That was all right, Doctor. That come was almost as nice as the kind I get when you do me." Mary dropped her eyes to her employer's flaccid pecker. "But what happened to you? Where's that beautiful hard-on I saw before?"
"Didn't you feel me come all over your back?"
"Oh, so that's what it was I felt." Mary brought a hand around to her lower back. "Ugh! I'm all messy. Why did you have to go and do that anyway? I thought you wanted to get your rocks off in Mrs. Lamb's cunt."
Paul grinned. "I suppose you thought the ceiling had suddenly sprung a leak."
"What?"
"When I shot my load all over you."
"Oh. I don't know what I thought. But you haven't answered my question. How come you came when you did? I was all set to watch you bang the shit out of her."
"And you'll have the chance, sweetheart." Paul looked down at Julie, who was lying in supine sprawl on the couch and smiling a dreamy smile. She seemed to be in a world of her own, a world of cocks and cunts and couples coupling indiscriminately in an orgy of demonic lust. "Something tells me Mrs. Lamb will be only too happy to suck me hard again."
"If she won't, I will," Mary grinned, her left hand darting from her side to wrap around Paul's limp prick.
Paul brushed his receptionist's hand away and leaned over his patient. "My cock, Julie ... my big, beautiful cock. Do you want it in you?"
"Y-Yes ... oh yes," Julie answered excitedly.
"You'll have to suck it first. You know, get it all nice and hard." ' Suck ... sssssuck!"
"Yes, suck. Will you blow me, Julie?"
"I want to, Doctor. Let me ... please."
Paul straightened up and turned to Mary. "It's times like this that I know I chose the right profession," he said with a wink.
Mary smiled sardonically. "Knowing how cunning and devious you are, Doctor, I'd say you would have succeeded in any profession you elected to enter. Succeeded sexually, that is."
Paul chuckled and then, turning again to Julie, drew the voluptuous woman up to a sitting position on the couch. An insolent grin blossomed on his face as he stepped between Julie's knees and placed his hands on her head. She had yet to touch his pecker, to wrap her lovely lips around its come-coated head, but already he was looking ahead to future "therapy" sessions, when Mrs. Laurence Lamb would enter his office in a state of sexual agitation and, without prompting, shed her clothes and zero in on his cock.
"Go to it, Julie. Let me feel your wonderful mouth on my organ. Suck it, Julie. Suck it."
The order alone was enough to make Julie's flesh tingle. She knew where she was and who she was with, and that scant inches from her face was a prick, one not unlike that belonging to her husband, whom she often treated to a skillful blow-job. But everything else was hazy, blurred, her mind unable to hold a rational thought for longer than a few fleeting seconds.
All that seemed to matter at the moment was her sexual desire, her gut-crumbling need to take into her mouth, and then into her vagina, the beautiful male member she was staring at. Every fiber of her being cried out for prick, hot, throbbing, jaw-stretching, cunt-reaming prick. It was as if she were trapped, caged by her need to wallow in a swamp of unbridled lust.
"What are you waiting for, baby?" asked an impatient Paul. "Go ahead and suck, Julie. Take it all in your cock-hungry mouth."
"It's a very tasty tool," Mary piped up. "Take my word for it, Julie."
Julie did more than that, an animalistic growl bursting from her throat as she suddenly attacked Paul's pecker. Using both hands, she hungrily stuffed the limp, fat worm of a prick into her eager mouth, stretching her jaw to the breaking point in a feverish attempt to shovel balls and all into her oral cavity.
"My, the lady does have an appetite, doesn't she?" Mary said with a broad grin.
"She's a born cocksucker."
"I'll say. Look at her go after it, will you. She's going to eat you alive, Paul."
Mad with desire, her mind a tangled web of lustful thoughts, Julie slobbered over her psychologist's genitals. With fiendish glee she rolled Paul's flaccid organ around on her tongue, savoring its warm fullness, its slightly salty taste.
She took it all in, greedily gobbling up the soft, spongy member she knew would harden under her passionate ministrations. Eyes closed, nostrils flared, her raven tresses dancing about her neck and shoulders, Julie vacuumed her fleshy lollipop deep into her hungry mouth.
"Oh, this is just too much," Mary said, obviously excited by the lewd sight of Paul's patient salaciously sucking his manhood. "I've got to do something. I can't just stand here and watch all this."
"Play with yourself," Paul suggested, looking down at Julie's bobbing, weaving head.
"No. I have a better idea. I'll do your back while Mrs. Cocksucker does your front. Are you game?"
Paul grinned. "What do you think, baby?"
"Good. It's been a while since I've had my tongue up your ass, anyway."
With that, Mary stepped behind Paul and dropped quickly to her knees. Seconds later she was palming the cheeks of his taut ass, kneading the firm flesh as if his buttocks were twin mounds of spongy dough. Then, eager to once again explore her boss anally, she pried apart the cheeks of Paul's bottom with her thumbs and gazed at the puckered port of his anus.
"See anything you like back there?" Paul asked.
"You bet I do, Doctor. I'm going to drive it way up there. My tongue will touch your tonsils, fella."
"I'll settle for a good try, baby."
Without further ado, Mary plastered her pretty face against the psychologist's behind and commenced her lewd labors, her experienced tongue darting from her mouth to slither up into Paul's asshole, She pushed her tongue as far as it would go inside his rectum, then proceeded to piston it back and forth, her nostrils filling with the tell tale odor emanating from his asshole.
Mary had not forgotten the viscious spanking she had recieved from her boyfriend, Jack Talbot, last Saturday. Nor had she forgiven him his violent outburst of anger. The memory of her painful and humiliating ordeal rested in the back of her mind, ever ready to seep into her consciousness.
She didn't know what she was going to do with Jack. How much longer could she put up with his insane jealousy was a question that needed an answer. And quick.
But she wasn't about to dwell on her boyfriend and his stupid suspicious mind right now. She wouldn't allow thoughts of him and the savage spanking he had administered to spoil this moment of delicious perversity. Now this was not the time or place to consider the faults and virtues of Mr. Talbot-not when she had her tongue swirling crazily up inside her boss' bottom.
"Oh, baby, that's the ticket," Paul said thickly. "Don't stop for a second. Mmmmm ... oh, that's fucking good."
Neither Mary nor Julie had any intention of stopping. Each woman thought Paul's words had been directed at her alone, and so each reacted accordingly. Mary pried Paul's cheeks even further apart and sliced her tantalizing tongue into his smelly asshole yet another time, working it wickedly inside that small, dark port, moving it in and out and around in the manner of a wriggling worm seeking shelter.
Julie, meanwhile, continued to feast like one demented on Paul's pecker. The tasty tool was swelling now, thickening and lengthening in her saliva-laden mouth as it filled with warm blood. Her lust immense, she bobbed her head rapidly up and down, her tightly pursed lips sliding wetly, passionately, over her psychologist's meaty manhood.
Shit, but this was too much, Paul thought happily, his fingers entwining in Julie's silky black hair. He had not one but two delightful females tending to him. A sultry babe with a body that invited brutal ravishment was blowing him with a passion, sucking his tool with a frenzied delight and doing fantastic things to his balls with her squeezing hands. Behind him, worshipping his asshole, was his spunky receptionist, a curvaceous little brunette doll whose inhibitions could be listed on the back of a postage stamp.
Could any man ask for more?
He could hardly wait to tell Valerie tonight how he had spent the better part of this Tuesday afternoon. He might even top off the day by giving Val a good dicking. If he could manage another erection, that is.