Chapter 8

PETE SAT MOROSELY IN THE OUTER OFFICE OF Leslie Holloway, M.D., and studied the receptionist's legs with only mild interest. If he had been his old self, a pair of knees and thighs like that would really have turned him on.

The girl was a gorgeous redhead and she was seated with crossed legs. She had swiveled away from the well of her desk to answer the phone, and her knees were pointing directly at Pete. Her white uniform was only a little longer than mini-length, and its hem had ridden up to the tops of her hose. On her under thigh, Pete visually caressed a patch of creamy naked flesh.

Nothing.

His pecker didn't begin to get hard.

In fact, his confounded pecker hadn't been hard in two days, and that was what had brought him to the psychiatrist's office. Perhaps Dr. Holloway could help him. If not, he didn't know what he would do.

"Mr. Edwards?" the receptionist said sweetly. "The doctor will see you now."

"Thank you," Pete said, and managed a wan smile as he got up and trudged toward the door marked Private.

He opened the door and walked into the adjoining room. He stopped short.

The pretty blonde behind the desk stood up. "I'm Dr. Holloway," she said. "Sit down, won't you?"

"But ... "

"I know what you're about to say, Mr. Edwards. Many of my patients do, when they see me for the first time. You were expecting a man, right?"

"Well, yes. I was. Your name's Leslie and I thought ... "

"Leslie's a feminine name, also." She smiled. "In any event, it makes no difference whether you're treated by a male or a female. Regardless of what your problem may be, scientific knowledge rather than the sex of the practitioner will determine the solution."

"I suppose that's right," Pete said, and sat down. He certainly didn't want to discuss his intimate sex problem with a woman, but now that he was here it appeared that he had no choice. He couldn't very well turn around and walk out.

Leslie Holloway was in her early thirties, bright-eyed and trimly built. Her golden hair was bobbed short, in an attractive wavy style. She wore a white smock which revealed little of the figure underneath.

"Well, Mr. Edwards ... " She folded her hands on the desk. "Suppose you tell me your problem."

He cleared his throat.

"Please," she said. "Don't grope for words. Just come right out with it."

"Very well. For the last few days, I haven't been able to get an erection."

"Hmm," she said clinically. "Have you ever had this trouble before?"

"No."

She was making notes.

"Are you married, Mr. Edwards?"

"Yes."

"Living with your wife."

"That's right."

"How has she reacted to your failure."

"She doesn't know about it." The doctor looked at him.

"I haven't tried to have intercourse with her during the past two days," Pete explained.

"But you have tried with another woman."

"Two."

She kept writing everything down.

"Were the circumstances conducive to sex?"

"Damned right," he said. "Oh, I'm sorry, doctor. I didn't mean to speak that way."

"Please do not guard your speech, Mr. Edwards. Say whatever you feel like. There are no taboos in here."

"All right." He shifted uneasily in his chair.

"Now, you say you failed to acquire an erection with two different women during the past two days, under circumstances which normally would have given you an erection. Is that correct?"

"Right."

"And you've never had the slightest trouble in developing an erection before?"

"Never. In fact, women have told me I'm pretty fast, as men go."

"I see." She studied him impersonally.

"Has anything happened in the past two days, or just before this trouble developed," she asked, "which upset you? Have you been worried about anything?"

"Yes."

"And what was that?"

"I came home two days ago and found my wife in the bedroom of our home with a woman friend of hers-a neighbor. My wife and this neighbor seemed very flustered. I found the neighbor's blouse and brassiere in the living room, along with my wife's blouse."

The doctor's eyes narrowed slightly. "In other words, your wife and this woman were partially nude together?"

"No. They had slipped other blouses on. But they obviously had been nude a little while before. I think they got dressed in a hurry when they heard me arrive home."

"I said 'partially nude' and you said 'nude', Mr. Edwards. Did you mean, you believe they had no clothes on at all?"

"I'm convinced my wife didn't, because I checked her and found she wasn't wearing pants. Underpants, I mean. And she had no bra on."

"What explanation did she give?"

'That she and this neighbor were trying on clothes, but both of them were upset. They looked very guilty. Also, they'd been drinking."

"I see."

"That upset me, doctor. I'm frank to admit that. But I don't see why it should keep me from getting my ... that is, from getting an erection now."

"Perhaps it didn't. On the other hand, it very well could have. Tell me, Mr. Edwards, you pride yourself on your masculinity, don't you?"

"Sure. I guess so."

"And on your prowess with women."

"Mmmmm ... yes."

"How long have you been married."

"Four years."

"Do you have any children'. '"

"No. My wife and I haven't wanted any, yet."

"Tell me, Mr. Edwards ... what would be your opinion of a man who lived four years with a woman, believing she loved him and was attracted to him, believing she admired and appreciated his manhood, only to discover she had never had any interest in him in bed-that she had, in fact, merely tolerated his sexual advances for the sake of the material security he gave her, and that she was a Lesbian? What would you think of him?"

"I'd figure he was a fool, I guess."

"And how about his manhood? Would you have much respect for that?"

"I guess not."

"Well, if you would have no respect for this hypothetical fellow, how could you expect to have respect for yourself under the same circumstances?"

"But I don't know that my wife's Lesbian. There could be another explanation."

"Of course. But you do suspect her of Lesbianism, don't you?"

"I suppose I do," he admitted.

"Now let me put it to you-if a man lacks respect for himself as a male and as a lover, he isn't very-likely to develop a hard-on when the time comes to make love to a woman, is he?"

Pete's eyes narrowed. "I see what you mean. But, hell ... I'm not to blame for what my wife did, even if she was fooling around with that other woman. It's not my fault."

Leslie Holloway smiled. "That's your conscious mind talking. You're rationalizing. That's not really the way you feel. Underneath you feel inadequate, and your sense of inadequacy relates to your penis."

"But ... "

"The penis is the male love organ, Mr. Edwards. You feel inadequate as a lover, therefore your penis must be inadequate, therefore your penis refuses to get hard."

"Maybe you're right."

"Of course I'm right." She leaned back in her chair and smiled. "Your case, Mr. Edwards, has turned out to be ridiculously simple."

"Well, now, just wait a minute, doctor. Even admitting that you may have the right idea about what's wrong with me, that doesn't solve the problem. And I don't really know that my wife's queer."

"That's right. You don't. And your problem is not solved. I merely said that the case itself was simple. The solution still must be worked out."

"How do I go about doing that?"

"No doubt you will want to determine what the true facts are, concerning your wife. Either she has engaged in Lesbian activity or she hasn't. If she has, it was either a serious thing with her-an expression of her true nature-or merely an experiment. You're apt to have difficulty finding out these things, if she doesn't choose to confide in you. But I'm telling you now, that it doesn't make the slightest difference whether you find out these facts or not."

"Whaaat?"

"I mean, with respect to your cure. You see, the problem does not concern what your wife was or was not doing or how serious her attitude may have been toward it. The problem relates to your attitude, not hers."

"I don't quite follow that."

"Very well. Let me phrase it in more simple terms: "Your wife does not have the power, either through her conduct or her attitude, to prevent your penis from getting hard. Your own psychological processes control that."

"Yeah, but ... "

"No but's. It is a fact. Now, what we must do is to demonstrate this fact so that your subconscious mind will grasp it. Once that has occurred, you will be rid of your problem."

"I suppose that's right," Pete admitted. "But how do we do that?"

Dr. Holloway smiled. "Well, what is the matter with your psychological processes now? You suspect that your wife is a Lesbian; you have been living with her for four years and failing to satisfy her all that time; therefore you have lost confidence in your ability to perform as a man-in other words, as a lover of women. That is why your penis will not harden. All right! So we must create a situation in which you are stimulated sexually but are not called upon to perform. Provided the stimulation is strong enough, your penis should respond to it ... since you will know at the beginning that nothing is expected of you. Do you follow me now."

"Vaguely."

"Some added work may be needed to rebuild your self-confidence as a lover. But that can come later. First we must prove that you still possess a functional prick."

"Doctor!"

"Let's not be puritanical, Mr. Edwards. You are suffering from a problem of inhibition right now. All inhibitions must be broken down."

She picked up the telephone on her desk and touched a button on its base. "Come in here, will you, Charlotte?"

When the redheaded receptionist appeared, Dr. Holloway told her, "Hang the card on the door. I want you to help me for a little while."

Pete looked at the doctor in amazement. "You don't mean that you're going to try to ... stimulate me here and now!"

"What better time could there be?" she retorted. "The approach may be unconventional, but I have never held much with conventions in therapeutic practice. Sometimes it's best to cut right through them and get at the heart of the problem. In your case this is especially important, because the longer you experience your present difficulty, the more firmly ingrained your negative attitudes will become. We must explode the myth of your impotence right away."

"All right, Charlotte," she said, when her girl had returned and closed the door. "I want you to take your clothes off in front of Mr. Edwards. You won't mind doing that, will you?"

"Of course not," Charlotte said. "When I first came to work for you and you treated me, you removed all my neurotic inhibitions. But why do you want me to do this?"

"Because Mr. Edwards has the notion that he is unable to achieve an erection. I believe that you can give him one, by stripping down and parading in front of him. What do you think?"

Charlotte looked at Pete and grinned wisely. "I believe I might be able to."

"One thing, however..." Dr. Holloway said. "There is to be no intercourse. That must be clearly understood. Do you agree, Mr. Edwards?"

"Of course." Pete was reddening slightly.

"And you, Charlotte?"

"Sure," she smiled.

"Then let the strip begin!" Dr. Holloway sat back.

It was the damndest situation Pete had ever walked into, and certainly one he had never expected to encounter in a doctor's office. But it was clear to him now that Dr. Holloway was no ordinary doctor. If her method worked, he would be grateful to her indeed.

Charlotte didn't seem reluctant in the least to stage this little entertainment. Pete could only wonder about the way in which Dr. Holloway had "treated" her in order to bring her around to this point.

But he didn't wonder about it now.

Now he concentrated on visual enjoyment as the gorgeous redhead opened the zipper down the back of her white uniform dress. She moved back and forth slowly, turning so that he could appreciate all angles, though really there were no angles about her. All her aspects offered lovely curves.

A white strap crossed her back. It was visible in part through the opening of her dress.

As she lowered the dress, letting it slide down her arms and slither off her body, Pete admired her full thrusting tits which were sheathed in a clinging white bra. She wore a short, white half-slip.

She continued to move back and forth, gradually working the petticoat down. She wore white, nylon briefs underneath it and, under those, a white garter belt which supported her sheer, tan stockings.

Her buttocks were cheeky, her thighs full and smooth.

It was when she reached behind her to unhook her bra and draw it away that Pete experienced a familiar stirring at his loins, as if his handy-dandy were about to stand up. But something seemed to keep it from doing so.

Even when Charlotte drew her bra away and left her quivering tits standing bare, their beautiful rosy nipples out-thrust, Pete's dingus didn't stiffen.

He admired the tits. He enjoyed looking at them. He had the notion that he wanted to hold them in his hands-to wobble them and jiggle them and roll them around-and to suck at each of them in turn. But his pecker didn't get hard, as a man's pecker should when he entertained such lustful thoughts.

Charlotte bent and let her breasts shake back and forth a little as she ungartered her stockings and pushed them down. She took her stockings off and replaced her shoes. She drew her garter belt up from underneath her pants and tossed it away.

Now she wore but the single garment-those snowy white briefs of sheer nylon which clung to her rear globes, her hips and her gently-curved belly. They showed an enticing, dark shadow at her delicate pubic mound.

She smiled at Pete and gripped her lush titties from underneath, squeezing them and lifting them and kneading gently. She plucked at her projecting, stiff nipples.

Pete felt a rush of response entering his loins, but nothing happened except a slight fattening of his cock. It didn't get hard.

Dr. Holloway glanced at him. "Would you like to take Charlotte, Mr. Edwards?"

"I would if I could."

"I see. Very well, Charlotte, go the rest of the way, if you will."

Charlotte would ... and did.

She stripped her white panties down, showing a beautiful reddish-brown bush and delightful cunt lips. She turned her back to Pete and exhibited a bottom which was stunningly formed. She bent, aiming her smooth butt slightly away from him, and drew her clinging panties off one foot, then the other. She turned to face him again.

The sight was a lovely one, and highly stimulating, but

Pete still couldn't gain an erection. "Anything?" Dr. Holloway asked. "No," he said miserably.

"Relax, Mr. Edwards. Let yourself go. Remember, you're not expected to perform. You only have to watch and please yourself. Charlotte ... sit down facing Mr. Edwards."

She did, choosing a straight chair and seating herself on the edge of it.

"Now, spread your thighs," Dr. Holloway instructed.

Charlotte did this, also, and the sight was marvelous. Her pink pussy opened like a rosebud at dawn.

Pete's body was trying hard to produce a hard-on. If he could just let go a little more, psychologically.

"Stimulate yourself, darling," Dr. Holloway said to her girl. "Caress your organ."

She did this, with fluttery fingers. Pete stared, his mouth hanging open, heat and pressure rushing toward his loins but somehow not gaining admittance to his penis in sufficient degree to stiffen it.

Dr. Holloway rolled her chair closer to Pete's.

"I hope you won't mind," she said and, with that, she placed her hand on his lap.

She fondled his limp peter through his clothes while the lovely Charlotte stroked and invaded her own cunt.

Suddenly Pete groaned and his rod shot out and upward, assuming marvelous hardness and pressing against the interior of his shorts and pants.

"Aaah," Dr. Holloway said.

"Is he there?" Charlotte asked.

"He most certainly is," the doctor replied. "And handsomely so."

Pete grinned. "Goddamn! I thought I'd never get it up again."

Dr. Holloway chuckled and removed her hand from his lap. "So you see that your emotion was all wrong. There is nothing the matter with you. All right, Charlotte ... you may put your clothes on."

"But ... "

"Yes, Mr. Edwards?-" the doctor said.

"I know we agreed nothing would happen, but you also said some work was needed to convince me I was a good lover."

Dr. Holloway laughed like a rippling brook. "Later, Mr. Edwards. We have accomplished quite a bit for one day."

Charlotte stood and picked up her clothing. She headed for the small dressing room which adjoined the doctor's office. Her buttocks winked delightedly as she walked, her thighs caressing each other.

Pete watched wistfully as she left. His hard-on still throbbed.

"You'll be all right," the doctor assured him. "I would advise you, however, not to attempt intercourse with your wife tonight. Not that you aren't capable of it, physically, but there may still be a block as far as she's concerned. I wouldn't want you to undergo another failure-that's very bad for the ego."

"You can say that again," Pete affirmed.

His excitement subsided and he stood up.

"I want to thank you, doctor. When shall I come in next?"

"Tomorrow. Charlotte will make an appointment for you as soon as she is dressed and returns to her desk. You may wait for her in the outer office."

Charlotte was pleasant but business-like when he spoke with her. A remarkable girl, Pete decided. And she had a remarkable boss.

Just how remarkable they both were, Pete had no idea.

After he had left the office, and after Dr. Holloway had taken care of her next patient (who happened to be her last for the day), Charlotte locked the front door and went into the doctor's private office.

"At last," she breathed as she zipped open her uniform. "I didn't think I could wait."

Leslie Holloway chuckled and stood. She came out from behind her desk and took her smock off.

"It made me so hot, playing with my pussy before," Charlotte said. "I kept imagining those were your fingers and that your lips would soon be down there."

"Dear Charlie," the other woman murmured as she lifted her dress. "You're such a minx."

Both women became nude in a hurry, and together they got down on the floor in the center of the office. They rolled into an embrace, Leslie's smallish tits mashing Charlotte's large, fruity ones. The true blonde caressed her love partner's buttocks as Charlie's impudent fingers made their way to the doctor's warm loins. They plucked at the golden down on Leslie's cunt, then parted the cunt lips and stroked inside.

"And to think that Edwards fellow was so upset," Leslie purred, "because he suspected his wife of Lesbianism."

"That's a laugh, all right," Charlie murmured. But she wasn't laughing. She was breathing hard and passionately, and now she flopped onto her back, her legs spreading wide.

"Oh, my little sweetmeat!" Leslie crooned and began to kiss her on the face ... then the shoulders ... then the tits ... and finally all the way down as she worked Charlie's tits with knowing hands, gently stimulating the large, erect nipples.

Leslie's face buried itself in Charlie's red bush, her lips opening the lips of Charlie's pussy and her tongue sliding deliriously inside.

"Oooh, so goood!" Charlie moaned. "Eat me! Eat me!"

Leslie ate.

After a while, they changed positions and Charlie ate her.

Then they rolled into a 69 and ate each other simultaneously. They rose to a thrilling double climax which had them shuddering passionately together as they washed each other's faces in joy juice.

Finally, as they were getting dressed, the doctor asked, "How would you feel about screwing Mr. Edwards?"

"I will if you want me to," Charlotte replied.

"I would do it myself, except that he should continue to regard me in a professional sense, not as a lover."

"I understand," Charlotte said.

"It may be, of course, that he will catch himself some action on the outside and restore his self-confidence that way. He seems like an enterprising fellow."

"I would just as soon he did. I don't get much fun out of men, any more."

"Poor Charlie. I suppose I've ruined you."

"Oh, Leslie! Never say that. I adore doing what you've taught me. It's really a great improvement over male-female rutting."

"That's what I discovered at an early age, but I still keep my hand in with the male sex. I don't dare lose my perspective."

Charlotte sighed. "Well, let me know."

"I will, dear. If Mr. Edwards doesn't report some progress tomorrow, I'll set up a date for you two tomorrow night."

"Won't that make you feel like a kind of a pimp?" Charlotte giggled.

"No more than you should feel like a whore, darling. What we do is for science. Never lose sight of that."

Charlotte vowed to try and remember.