Chapter 5
It was Dr. Vincent, of course. When I came to I could hear his voice wafting from the living room. One of the convicts was with him, apparently pretending to be my husband.
"Where is your wife, now that I'm here, Mr. Haley?" the doctor said sharply. "It seems to me that you could have driven her to the hospital. I certainly would have never come had I known you were here."
"Uh, well—" the convict thought out his answer. "I'll tell you what. I jus' got home and the car's broke down anyway."
I remembered enough about Dr. Vincent to know that he was looking at my so-called husband at this moment as though he were a fresh turd. He was a pompous bastard. And the convict, of course, was an obvious moron.
"Well, where is she?" the doctor demanded to know. "I'm a busy man. I haven't got all day."
"She's in a bedroom," the convict mumbled. "I'll show you."
When I heard their footsteps approaching me, I was able to shake away the rest of my cobwebs. Looking around the bed I saw that the delivery boy had been removed, however, I was still nude and sticky and oozing cum.
I could only surmise about the delivery boy's fate. I assumed it was unfortunate.
Anyway, callous as it was, I had to forget about him. I could only survive by looking out for number one. And now old number one was going to have to handle another man.
Dr. Vincent was being led into the bedroom by the bruiser who was supposed to be my husband. The doctor must have wondered how we could afford to live in such a nice neighborhood, since my husband looked like a ditch-digger at best.
"All right, Mrs. Haley, what seems to be the problem?" Vincent asked impatiently, as he strode toward me. The guy had a bedside manner like a Nazi.
I quickly glanced into the face of the convict who was playing my husband for a clue as to how I should respond. All I saw there, however, were two eyes stuck in a pan of meat and they were glazed. Even though I was walking on a tightrope of approval from the birds, they'd left me on my own once again. I was beginning to wonder how they'd ever had enough brains to escape from anyplace.
I remembered that I'd told the nurse I was hemorrhaging. I stuck with this line now.
"All right then, Mrs. Haley," he snapped, "Please stop playing peek-a-boo and lift the covers so I can check you now. And since you have dragged me from my office and there are no gynecological stirrups, please spread your legs as far apart as possible."
I had no alternative but to comply, even though the doctor was going to get the surprise of his career. Pushing the bedding away, I exposed my naked body and opened my legs until my cummy crotch was agape.
Dr. Vincent peered down into the bubbly mess and then recoiled. My God, you dumb bitch, that's not blood down there! That's-that's-"
"Fresh cum," I acknowledged the obvious.
"But I don't treat patients who have just had intercourse! Against my policy! Too messy!"
The guy sounded like a psychotic.
"It's against your policy to make housecalls, too," I mewed. "But here you are."
"So?"
"Proceed with the examination. I'm dying to feel your fingers inside my pussy."
He gulped. Stammered and fidgeted like a boy who has to go to the bathroom but is afraid to ask. But he didn't leave.
I swiveled my ass around so he would have a better look at my cunt. Making the lips suck, I invited him in my most womanly fashion.
His face was pale, but I had stopped looking at it. The reaction in which I was interested would be generated by whatever he had between his legs.
His cock was bulging in the crotch of his pants. The examination had turned into a seduction.
Of course, he was too prim to admit it. The jerk actually went through the motions of making a pelvic exam. Sticking his fingers in my pussy and widening them so he could peer around—sniffing for tell-tale odors.
I squealed .every time one of his fingers probed a sensitive spot, but there wasn't enough of it. I'd have to give the good doctor a little more encouragement to stop playing gynecologist and start playing lover.
"I'll bet you could find out more about my pussy if you put all of your fingers inside of it," I suggested.
In most cases doctors bite the heads off patients who kibitz. Not this time, though. There were five fingers stuffed up my twat by the time I completed my next breath.
"Now make a fist," I suggested further. "The cum that's already inside my cunt will make it slide up into my womb."
He did it as though it were a standard gynecological technique. All of a sudden my uterus was engorged with knuckles and I was orgasming all over again.
"Fuck me with it!" I dropped the last vestiges of my patient's pose and became an unbridled sex machine. A full-blooded woman was fistfucking the one man in the world who knew the most about her cunt.
"Sock it to me!" I screamed. "The more it hurts the better I like it!"
How alien it must have seemed to a gynecologist to perform such brutality on one of his patients. However, on the other hand, given the vigorous fashion in which Vincent was going about it, perhaps torturing one of his patients had been a deep-seated fantasy for years.
In any case, his fist was like a battering-ram, as it thoroughly fucked me. The only aspect which it lacked to keep it from being identical with a giant hard-on was a load of hot sperm at the end of its thrusting.
Oh, well, I'd get that treat somewhere else. Already I was tugging at the doctor's fly, trying to free his cock and balls.
By the time Vincent had his fist out of my pussy, I had fully extracted his turgid equipment and was stroking his heavily veined shaft, slowly pulling the foreskin to and fro. "I'll suck you, first," I told him. "I was always curious about your prick when you were examining my cunt in your office."
I stuffed it into my face. Maybe it wasn't as big as some of the others I had been sampling today, but it would do. I was starting to learn that each man's hard-on is different and a woman just has to make the most of what she has to work with.
"I've always dreamed this would happen," Dr. Vincent suddenly confessed, as I worked my suctioning lips down toward his hairy balls. "That some woman would become so excited during a pelvic exam that she would be unable to keep her hands off me."
"It's pretty hard to do when you're in those stirrups, Doc," I released his cock enough to crack. "Maybe you ought to make more housecalls."
"I always wear a lab-coat in the office," he continued babbling. "I don't want to give myself away by having a patient see my erection throbbing in my pants."
"Then gynecologists do get off on their patients' cunts," I made the appropriate conclusion.
"When I'm through work for the day my balls are aching," the doctor revealed. "If it wasn't for my nurse providing me with some relief, I might have to give up my practice."
"Well, Doc, it looks like your frustrations are over," I said. "On your first housecall you got lucky. A patient as horny as you are, who doesn't have a big mouth. Your medical ethics will be our little secret."
"But you could blackmail me," he eyed me with sudden suspicion.
"I could also slam close my legs and refuse to let you fuck me," I bluffed him. "Come on, Doc, tell me, are you ready to miss out on your dream come true? If you don't fuck me, it'll haunt you a lot more than any damn blackmail. I know you want it."
I didn't even wait for a reply, so confident he was now my puppet that I went back to deepthroating his cock without further comment. Anyway, if he was having trouble deciding which way to jump, a hilted blow-job would yank him in the right direction.
This time I gobbled him until I was gagging. I fought for breath but my nostrils were stuffed with matted pubic hair and the corners of my mouth sealed with scrotum. I had as much of his cock as my mouth could take.
Having realized the objective of maximum penetration, I now moved on to another oral technique. Moving my lips up and down, I began to truly fuck him with my mouth.
Eventually my stroke had become so grand that my lips were traveling repeatedly between the head of the doctor's prick and his nuts. Every time his organ came back into view it was redder. With the lights out it probably would have glowed.
I stopped sucking his cock just short of an ejaculation. If I let him come in my mouth I would be taking a chance that he wouldn't be able to get it up again and do justice to my hot, slobbering cunt. His fucking me proper was part of my plans, so I wasn't going to let him get out of it because of a simple blow-job.
After I had orally released his tool, I threw my shoulders back and wrapped my legs around him. Then, as I drew his hard-on toward my cunt, I raised my legs, pulling them out from under his arms. My twat was a tunnel, now—if Vincent's prick had been a diesel truck he still could have driven it inside.
His cock slammed into me, driving to my depths. My womb began to flutter from the kind of orgasm only a thrusting hard-on can produce.
The doctor lifted me right away, but that was just the beginning of his action. He was practically bursting at the seams with lust and he began sucking my tits, while his fingers traveled all over me.
At the same time he gnashed a nipple with his teeth, one of Vincent's hands slid into the crack of my ass. Finding my anus, he began pinching its puckering folds, twisting around the delicate flesh.
"Stick it in my ass!" I pleaded. "Let me feel your fingers wiggling inside me!"
He penetrated with two digits, sending them scooting up my rectum at divergent angles.
He was pulling my asshole apart.
"Deeper! Harder!" I implored, despite the pain.
He was a jump ahead of me. Deep and hard weren't the extent of his tricks. He could also slant his digital thrust upward, colliding in its ascent with his pumping cock in my adjacent cunt.
There seemed to be a welding at the crux of my being, as the two instruments of penetration came together. Then, in addition, I lost my ability to distinguish between my asshole and pussy. Everything was as one, as I came and came and came.
"Switch holes," I impulsively suggested. "Fuck me in the ass with your cock for a while and finger my pussy."
"I'm a gynecologist not a proctologist, my good woman," he said, but it was a joke.
Besides being rabid to fuck me any way I told him, the old boy was loosening up a bit. I was even starting to sort of like him.
"When you've got a woman in the stirrups for a pelvic exam, do you ever sneak a peek at her ass, Doc?" I asked him, as he withdrew his cock.
"It's the most intimate orifice of the female body," he practically swooned. "So pink and dainty, especially on a woman under forty."
"How old do you think I am?" I out-and-out flirted.
He expertly pushed apart the cheeks of my ass and peered with a professional eye at my tauty gaping bunghole.
"Well?" I wanted to know his opinion. A woman always gets anxious when it comes to her age.
"I'd be very surprised if you're a day over twenty-five," he announced hungrily smacking his lips at the end of the statement. "Am I right?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out," I giggled like a schoolgirl. Actually I was thirty- six and had a couple of teenage kids, but I wasn't going to let him know that.
If my gynecologist wanted to think I was twenty-five, I sure as hell felt twenty-five.
Oh, if I'd only known at twenty-five what I knew now. For instance, how good it feels to have a man's big cock start to burrow up your asshole, as Vincent's was doing now.
"Ram it, stud!" I urged. "And don't forget about your hand in my pussy—preferably in the form of a fist!"
He rammed it in.
"Oh God!" he gasped.
He rammed harder.
Wham, wham, I was blessed with the instant materialization of the two phases of my desire. Vincent's cock was in my ass all the way to the balls and his fist was jammed up my pussy all the way to the wrist.
The dual stroking began and it wasn't long before cock and fingers renewed their collaboration in the deepest recess of my body. Only this time the prick was driving from the bottom and the fingers were balled into a fist in my twat. The struggle between the two bludgeons was electrifying.
The bed almost broke from the action, as Dr. Vincent furiously double-pronged me. And I almost broke, too—he was tearing me apart inside.
"Switch again!" I cried when the erotic pummeling had me on the brink of my second unscheduled trip of the morning to never never land. There were still those convicts to deal with when the fucking was over and I was too vulnerable to afford luxury of passing out again.
Vincent's cock pulled out of my ass just when he'd been on the verge of drawing blood and his fist made an exit from my cunt under similar conditions.
Within moments his hard-on and fingers were back in their original fuck-holes. Fortunately for my sanity he spared me a fist in my ass.
The action became more and more intense. The doctor started switching on his own initiative, continually transferring cock and fingers from hole to hole. Eventually he forgot about his hand and just started fucking me on alternate strokes in my ass and pussy.
His motions were so quick that it was like being fucked by two cocks at once. All I could do was spread my thighs a little wider and scream for him to never stop.
But, of course, he would have to stop eventually. A man's hard-on can only take so much friction before it explodes. And apparently the convicts were willing to wait for this to happen before they hauled Dr. Vincent to tend to their fallen leader. The string would be played out when I finally felt his cream spurting between my legs.
I could do nothing to hold Vincent back any longer. He was hell-bent on coming, not caring whether it was in my ass or pussy.
As it turned out, it was in neither. The doctor's cock betrayed him in the middle of a switch and sprayed all over my belly and tits. All of a sudden I was bathed with scalding male gunk.
I tried to keep Vincent aroused by smearing his sperm all over me—including my face, eyes and hair—but it was no use. His eyes remained ablaze with eroticism, but his dick was starting to forlornly droop. It was a case of willing spirit and weak flesh.
While the exhausted gynecologist gasped for breath, I looked beyond him toward the door. As I'd anticipated, the troops were advancing into the bedroom.
Without knowing what hit him, Dr. Vincent was suddenly bear-hugged and made airborne. Squawking like Donald Duck, he was carried bodily from the bedroom to his first male patient.
"You've done a good job, ma'am," some bruiser said to me with obvious sincerity. Then I looked around at the others, they all nodded in agreement.
I knew I wasn't supposed to, but I felt good.