Just as her shouts of ecstatic orgasm filled my ears, I felt the jetting of my sperm into the hot tight cavern I filled so triumphantly. My left hand shot underneath the young girl and I penetrated her hot steamy cunt with three fingers and massaged my pulsing cock with them, milking more and more come from my overloaded balls. I felt Betty's asshole pucker and tighten to contain my meat while she rocked on her hands and knees to drain every slick drop from me.
Finally, with one last lingering moan, she collapsed on her face and chest on the sofa and my sodden tool popped from her battered asshole. The raw red opening stayed agape an inch or so from the numbing strain of my savage rape of its pink eye, and then, flexing convulsively, slowly crept shut. Betty's thighs and hips waved as she came down off the heights of her climax, and a soft litany of happiness droned from her smiling lips.
Linda promptly knelt beside me and took my half-hard prick lovingly into her mouth. Licking, lapping, slurping, she began cleaning me up.
"Lick it all off, Linda baby," I ordered her. "Clean all that scum and shit off my cock, and then swallow it. That's a good girl – oh, you'll learn to love everything, darling. Yes, keep it up, more, more, God, you've got a good hot tongue, angel. Suck it, clear in your mouth, swallow the meat, love, gulp it and chew on it, do anything you want, 'cause when it gets hard, I'm going to fuck you within an inch of your young life with it. It's all yours, baby. Be good to it, be mean to it, you can't hurt it. Ooooooohh, yes, that's wonderful," I told her as her hot moist tongue and cheek linings brought new life to my tired and spent organ.
"Oh, shit. Damnit to hell!" I exclaimed. Both girls raised their heads.
"What's wrong, Doc? Did I bite you?" Linda asked.
"No, no, honey, you were doing fine. I just happened to notice the time. It's five-twenty and I have a five-thirty appointment to keep. No, no, nothing like that," I laughed at the jealous looks on their young faces. "It's just a regular medical patient, a new one, but I do have to keep my office open, you know." I dressed rapidly and combed my hair. "You can stay here and rest a few minutes, then get dressed and go out by the back door at the end of the hall. And I'll see you on Wednesday, Betty. And Linda," I faced her sternly, "be damn sure not a word of this slips out – to ANYone!"
"Oh, I won't," the child vowed. "I don't want to spoil the best thing I've ever known. Betty and I were so tired of small pricks. We're all happy now – you like tight young pussies, and Betty and I want bigger cocks. This is an ideal setup. I'll never mention a word – hell, I don't want to share THIS!"
Seated at my office desk, waiting for my patient to show, I reminisced and pondered on the lucky fates that had brought me to this jackpot of sex just exactly what I had been hunting for years. I originally studied psychiatry after my internship in order to more fully understand myself – why I wasn't interested in getting married and why I preferred young girls to the companionship of more mature women. And the younger the better! I knew my wants and needs that well, and was brutally frank with myself.
I came to the conclusion that it was a normal manifestation of the male ego – I wanted the conquering, the variety, the challenge and the chase that was involved, rather than the monotony of the situation that usually came with marriage. And the girls – hell, that was simple and obvious. The first man a girl falls in love with is her father. To a child he is omniscient, omnipotent, the bountiful provider. To a baby, he's God, and she's rapturously in love with him and she compares all boys with him, and they certainly suffer in comparison. But the incest taboo is too great in our society, so they subconsciously seek out a father image, someone who can be a surrogate father, but with whom sex is legal, even if not morally approved. So the delicious fruit I wish to pluck is there for the picking. Right now I'm forty-four years old, with a slight touch of gray at the edge of my temples, I have a good profession, respected and respectable, so I fet the desirable image quite thoroughly. I've found that it's not the least bit of trouble to overwhelm the young cunts – psychologically overpower them, if you will – and give them what they want and need, but didn't know they wanted and needed it.
And the sight of a young, just-developing girl, with her firm, rising, budding breasts and her tiny pink cunt, lying there waiting for the invasion of my stiff, ever-hungry cock against the tender lips of her sweet juicy pussy, moaning with ecstasy at the snug gripping entry into her tasty cunt that has got to be the greatest feeling that any male can experience here on earth.
So this way I can combine business with pleasure – their pleasure and my business and pleasure both. And what I teach them will surely make them better wives and lovers in the future, so it's beneficial to all concerned in the long run. So that's my rationalization. I know it's a rationalization, but it's heaven!
Chapter 3
I eyed Mrs. Walker up and down carefully. No woman should or could be dressed like that unless it was bait for something further. Her tight skirt molded her. full, sensuous asscheeks beautifully, and the belt cinched snugly around her tiny waist only accented the wonderful pair of tits that poked proudly out above the low-cut neckline of her sheer blouse. I judged her to be about. thirty years. old. We went back to my private office and I took her medical history.
Thirty-seven years old. I raised an eyebrow and complimented her on her youthful appearance. Widowed since eighteen, never remarried. Childhood diseases, the usual. I asked her what her problem was. A vaginal discharge – minor, but annoying. I told her to disrobe in the examining room. I got my instruments together and knocked and entered. She was altogether as exciting as I'd anticipated. If I went for older women, she'd have been rated prime-cut meat.
I placed her feet in the stirrups and casually continued my questioning of the lady. Her periods were regular, and no, she hadn't noticed' the discharge till lately; she did not have intercourse regularly – in fact, hadn't had any for over seven years. I began to probe and entered her cunt with a K-Y-jellied forefinger, only to discover that, once I had parted her labia, my finger would penetrate barely to the first knuckle. Her small exclamation of pain as I attempted to go deeper made me halt. I completed the examination visually and she dressed and we went to my office for a consultation.
I explained to her that nothing appeared to be infected or seriously wrong, and that I'd give her a prescription for a douche that would alleviate the problem she had.
"I can't take a douche very well, Doctor," she said. "I find that every time I do, I get so… so… well, aroused, I guess you'd call it, that I nearly pass out."
"Very frankly, Mrs. Walker, your problem is mostly psychological. You're at your most sexually mature age, and going without intercourse, or some other form of release, has built up a reservoir of frustration within your mind and body, to the point where any stimulation whatever releases a wave of satisfaction. Don't you have a steady boyfriend or even an acquaintance with whom to secure release?" I asked.
"No, Doctor. For two reasons. One, this damned small town is too gossipy, and I can't chance it. Next, as you noticed earlier, I'm so small up inside that intercourse with a man is too painful… unless I'd get a man with a mouse-sized penis," she added with a smile. "And that wouldn't be much of a man, would it? And men just don't interest me that much. I find them too demanding and bossy. I've lived alone so long that I prefer to be the boss and have control of any situation in which I'm involved."