Dr. Crane

Jean fumbled with her purse nervously. She didn't actually need anything inside it, but sitting inactive was making her feel as if she would explode. The pretty young receptionist smiled at her reassuringly. "I'm sure Dr. Crane will be with you in just a moment, Mrs. Harris," she said.

Jean nodded and replied with a tight smile, shifting in her seat. For what seemed the hundredth time, she considered just walking out. There wasn't, strictly speaking, anything at all wrong with her. She told herself that she was just there out of curiosity, and if the rumors weren't true, well, it would give her some ammunition for the weekly bridge club gossip fest.

Dr. Crane had replaced old "Judge" as he was known, a venerable practitioner who had been the community's default family doctor for as long as anyone could remember. When he retired, his practice was taken over by a doctor from a distant city, a woman who came with rumors in her wake.

Paula Blake was always one to push boundaries with a slightly dirty joke or scandalous implication.

As she perused her cards, she pretended disinterest as the suburban housewife regaled them with the dirt. "She's a specialist," Paula said, somehow managing to make that word sound salacious. "Not just a regular M. D. She's also a gynecologist, and you know what that means."

Eyebrows raised, Dorothy Ames asked, "What sort of woman wants to look between another woman's legs?" Jean got an involuntary twitch between her legs at these words, and that image. Paula smirked and replied, "Three guesses."

The fourth in their group, Tracy, gasped. "You mean she's a lesbian? Isn't that, I dunno.... illegal or something?"

"Or something," Paula nodded, looking smug.

Jean spoke and her voice shook a little, "Um, how do you know? I mean, isn't it just a rumor?"

"Nope. When Judge introduced her around at the Country Club last Saturday, I asked whether her husband and family would be joining her here. She said she didn't have a husband, or kids. Well, naturally I assumed she was a widow, since she had on a wedding ring. Can you imagine, she laughed and told me it was 'man repellent'."

"I don't get it." Jean said.

"She came right out and told me that she's a lesbian! Well, if that's a dyke, she sure doesn't look it. Honestly, I was relieved. My Charlie kept looking at her tits and ass, thinking I wasn't noticing. I overheard him make a joke about "blonde bombshells" drinking with the boys. Whatever it is that lesbians do in bed, she's certainly well equipped to go about it."

Jean blushed. She had first hand knowledge of what lesbians did together. It was only ten years prior that she'd been in college. Birth control wasn't common yet, it was the mid 1950s. Her boyfriend had gotten pushy, then rough, on a date, insisting on sex. She fought back, got out of his parked car and walked all the way back to her dorm, disheveled and sobbing. She had no intention of making any kind of complaint. It would just result in the blame being put on her. She'd get a reputation, they'd say she led him on. When her room mate Brenda returned later that night, she found Jean red eyed and lying on her bed curled up in a ball. She gently coaxed the story out of Jean, then lay down on the bed behind her in a spooning position.

Brenda softly stroked Jean's hair, whispering soothing words. Her lips brushed against Jeans ear, and she got a sudden frisson of pleasure. As she began to relax, Jean fell into kind of a trance, exhausted from all the crying and the long walk. It almost seemed natural when Brenda began planting soft kisses on the back and side of her neck. Jean turned over onto her back, and her room mate brushed away a tear from her cheek, following it with a soft kiss. Their eyes met, and Brenda hesitated a moment, evidently thinking something over.

"You know I'd never hurt you, Jean. You know that, right?"

Jean nodded and whispered, "Yes,"

Her room mate leaned forward and this time kissed her on the lips, softly at first, but when Jean responded by opening her lips, more aggressively. Jean had "made out" many times with several boys, so somehow it seemed normal when the other girl's hand began to massage her breasts though her tight sweater. The kiss turned wet, and their tongues danced together. Suddenly the pleasant feeling on her boobs stopped. A moment later, Jean felt the front of her skirt being pushed up, and the feathery touch of fingers stroking the crotch of her panties.

Almost of it's own volition, her hand found it's way under Brenda's skirt, and began exploring. Her room mate sighed with pleasure, eyes lidded. This mutual touching went on for a few minutes, and Brenda gradually became more bold. Her fingers traced the hem of Jean's panties, tips slipping inside and sliding back and forth across the oh so sensitive skin. When she slipped her hand right inside and pushed her fingers thorough the thicket of Jean's pubic hair, Jean's hips lifted a bit off the bed and towards the source of pleasure.

Suddenly, Brenda stopped and got off the bed in one motion. Before Jean could ask what was wrong, her room mate had pulled her to her feet. "Time for bed, Jean," she said, eyes sparkling. She tugged Jean's sweater up and off, tossed it aside, then took a step back and doffed her own. Jean had seen her room mate partly naked a time or two, but this time was very different. When Brenda unsnapped her practical white bra, it felt as if the firm tits were aimed right at Jean's burning crotch.

Fingers trembling, Jean reached behind herself and undid the clasp of her own bra. Both girls stood a moment, drinking in the sight. Jean's nipples were so stiff they ached. Brenda's tits were small and firm, and the girl reached up to caress them, tweaking the little pink nipples as she stared at Jean. Their eyes met again. Brenda smiled and tilted her head to one side, an unspoken question.

Jean nodded and said, "Yeah. Let's."

She twisted her skirt around until the zipper was in front and soon it was at her feet and kicked to the side. Brenda followed suit, and then the girls were clad only in panties, a scant few feet apart from each other. Brenda bridged the gap and wrapped her arms around Jean. In their eagerness to kiss, their foreheads bumped painfully. "Ow!" said Jean. "You said you'd never hurt me!" Both girls giggled, and it was a delicious feeling as they laughed, breasts pressed up against each other. Jean moaned softly. "Ummm..."

Brenda got a mischievous look. "Oh, you like that?" she said, leaning back slightly. Their breasts were now barely touching, and Brenda began slowly shifting her shoulders so that the stiff nipples of her tits dragged back and forth across Jeans soft plump mounds. Jean gave a grunt of pleasure and frustration, trying to pull Brenda closer.

"Uh, uh," Brenda said, "naughty, naughty." At the same time she slid her hands down Jeans sides until they rested on her hips. She pressed her crotch into Jean's, and this was even more maddening. Jean could feel heat and pressure building up in her pussy, and desperately wished the panties were not in the way. Jean began rising up on her feet a little, then down, trying to grind her sex as much as possible into the other girl.

This seemed to go on forever until suddenly Brenda broke the embrace. Jean was panting and felt as if she might start to cry again, the frustration had built up so much. Taking this in, Brenda smiled. "Ah, poor baby. Let me take care of you."

She knelt in front of Jean. Looking up, Brenda grinned, hooked her fingers into the waistband of Jean's panties and tugged them down slowly. Jean's lush curls were thick but grew sparse lower down. Her plump mound concealed the inner labia. Brenda's hands got the panties down to Jean's ankles, and Jean stepped out of them. Brenda gently pressed her hands inside each calf and Jean took the signal, shuffling her feet and spreading her legs further apart.

Spreading her hands wide, Brenda ran them slowly up the front of Jean's thighs, gradually coming to rest on either side of her pussy. Fingers snaked into the thick hair, pressing and exploring. Jean stared down, rapt at what her room mate was making her feel. The small slender digits pulled the outer labia apart, and Jean canted her hips forward, eager for more.

When her fingers found and parted the inner labia, they glistened with moisture.

Brenda sighed with pleasure. "Oh, Jean. You. Are. Absolutely. Beautiful."

Jean flushed with excitement and embarrassment. No one had ever looked at her there, and when Brenda leaned forward to press her nose into the thick hair, inhaling deeply, Jean was torn between thrill and disgust. Brenda's soft moan left no doubt that she loved the smell between Jean's legs.

Brenda turned her head and planted a soft kiss right at the top of Jean's inner thigh. Holding the kiss a moment, her lips parted, and the tip of her wet tongue darted out to flick briefly against Jean's skin. The sensation was electric, and Jean gave a little yelp. Brenda repeated this on the opposite thigh. She planted her thumbs so that they spread the outer labia wide, and she gave them the same kissing treatment. Next came the inner labia. Jean was panting now and her legs were trembling. She closed her eyes and softly said, "Please. Oh, please" over and over again.

Suddenly, the kisses stopped and Brenda removed her hands. Jean's eyes shot open. Brenda got to her feet, grabbed Jean by the shoulders and walked her backwards. Jean's legs met the edge of the bed and she suddenly fell into a sitting position. Brenda stood over her, smiling. She pulled her own panties down and off. Jean was startled to see the other girl had no pubic hair. Brenda noticed the direction of Jean's gaze and grinned. "Easier access," she said.

Brenda reached out both hands and gave both of Jean's nipples a playful pinch, drawing a squeak out of her room mate. She chuckled, and pushed the other girl back lying flat, her legs still bent over the edge of the bed. She resumed kneeling, and shuffled forward, grabbing Jean by the hips. "Scoot forward a little baby," she cooed. Jean eagerly complied. Brenda's hands went to Jean's knees and pushed outward, spreading the legs wide. She feasted her eyes on the delicious sight. "Baby, I am going to make you feel soooo good," she said.

Jean's hands nervously plucked at the bedspread and her hips squirmed a little. She moaned softly.

Brenda leaned forward and abandoned all pretense of teasing. She stuck her tongue out and pressed it flat, starting at the bottom of Jean's cleft, and drawing up, increasing pressure as she rose. When she reached the apex, she sucked the hood of Jean's clitoris into her mouth, creating a little cave of pressure with her lips, pulling her head up a tiny fraction, then letting it down again.

Jean had never felt anything remotely like this. Her sexual experience thus far had been rare instances of masturbation and the crude fumbling between her legs doled out by boys.

Her hips lifted off the bed as she tried to increase the sensations. Brenda slid her hands beneath Jean's ass, and grabbed her cheeks. The speed of Jean's panting showed she was very close, and Brenda showed mercy. Her tongue darted out and began to flick like a hummingbird across Jean's swollen clit. It only took seconds, but for Jean the orgasm felt like being suspended in an eternity of agonizing pleasure, almost too intense to bear. Her eyes squeezed tight closed, she bit her lip as a long moan escaped her.

Jean's pussy spasmed a final time and she flopped limp, trying to catch her breath. Brenda shamelessly took advantage of the opportunity to suck at Jean's opening, pressing her mouth tight and working hard to draw out as much of the sticky cum juice as she could. Brenda's right hand rubbed hard in circles upon her own clit and her orgasm came on like a hammer blow. Her body stiffened and she groaned into the delicious pussy her face was buried in.

A little weak, Brenda stood, leaned over and guided Jean's legs up onto the bed. She shifted the girl and lay down beside her. Jean sat up a little and began planting kisses all over Brenda's face, repeating, "thank you, thank you,"|

Brenda chuckled, grabbed Jean's head and held it still. "Honey, it's okay. I enjoyed it just as much as you did. More, probably." Jean's face showed wonder and curiosity. She fell back and they laid quiet for long minutes. Brenda was starting to drift off when Jean said, "Uh, Brenda?" "Yeah?" "What's it taste like? You know.... down there?"

Brenda chuckled. "Easy enough to find out, Jean"

Jean was taken aback. Was Brenda asking her to reciprocate?

Sensing Jean's thoughts, she said, "Oh, God, Jean. Relax. Here." she sat up, took jean's hand and guided it to the girl's own pussy. Pressing Jean's finger against the still slick lips, she coated it in juice and brought it up to the girl's face. "Taste it. It's nice." Jean stared at the finger a long moment, hesitating. Brenda laughed. "Go on. It can't hurt you."

Taking the plunge, Jean put the digit into her mouth. The smell struck her most. Strong, earthy, unlike anything else she'd ever encountered. The taste..... was not horrible. Tangy, and also strong. She removed her finger from her mouth, and a moment passed.

"Well?" asked Brenda.

"It's..... sort of good." Jean said

Brenda laughed. "If you like that, try this." She put her hand between her own legs and

brought a slick finger up to Jean's face. "Try mine," she said.

Jean hesitated a moment, but didn't want to offend her new lover. She leaned her head forward and took the finger into her mouth. It was the same, but different, and she found herself involuntarily sucking to try to get more to sample. Jean was grinning at her, but said nothing.

They lay quiet for a few long minutes.

Quietly, Jean said, "Brenda? You awake?"

"Yeah"

"Brenda..... would you like me to do that?"

"What?"

"You know. Kiss you. Down there."

Brenda propped herself up on an elbow and looked down at Jean, her face serious.

"You don't have to, Jean. There are no rules to this."

"I know. Just.... it felt so good. I want to make you feel like that, if you'll teach me."

Brenda smiled. "You sure?"

Jean smiled back, nodding. "Very sure."

"Okay baby. I'll show you something. If you don't like it, just tap me with your hand, like this,"

Brenda tapped Jean firmly two times quickly on her thigh "and I'll stop, right away."

Jean was puzzled, "Can't I just tell you?"

Brenda grinned, "Honey, your mouth is going to be full,"

Jean blushed, and nodded.

"Ok, slide down a little, not too far. Put you head right here." Jean complied, and Brenda rose to her knees, then straddled the girls face. She looked down, smiling. "There's no right way or wrong way to do it."

As she said this, she reached back behind her and just managed to get a hand between Jeans legs, where she began a gentle slow rubbing. Jean looked up, fascinated with the splayed pussy inches above her.

"You can kiss, lick, suck. All over. Each area feels a little different. Not everyone likes it, but I love having fingers put inside me."

Jean was somewhat startled. Her room mate never dated boys (and now she knew why). "You're not a virgin?"

Brenda frowned. "Technically, yes. But I've been fucking my pussy with the handle of a hairbrush for years."

Jean was shocked. "Doesn't that hurt?"

Brenda laughed. "God no! Especially when a girl is sucking my clit at the same time!"

Jean felt a pang of jealousy. An instant later she felt ridiculous for it. She was, however, powerfully curious to know who this other girl might be. Later.

Brenda said, "Now, I'm going to get close, so you can put your mouth on me. Just explore and get used to it."

Jean watched as the pussy grew nearer and she drew in a deep breath. The smell was very strong, and she realized that she loved it. She didn't have to raise her head much to place a soft kiss on the pussy lips in front of her. Brenda's sigh of pleasure thrilled her, and she followed it up by sticking out her tongue and licking. Brenda gave a moan of approval and Jean's heart raced. This was fun!

Jean began experimenting, and when she pushed her tongue right inside, Brenda reached down and grabbed both sides of Jean's head. "Oh yesss..." Brenda hissed.

It hurt a little bit being held like that, but Jean also found it exciting. She took her tongue out, slid it around in circles outside, and pushed it back in again. She repeated this several times and Brenda's breath started to get heavy.

"Jean," she gasped "I'm getting close. I want to do something, but not if you don't want to."

Jean stopped licking. "Jean..... I want to ride your face. All you have to do is hold still and keep your mouth open. If it gets to be too much, just tap me on the thigh and I'll stop."

Brenda didn't wait for Jean to reply. She pressed her pussy down against Jean's face, hard, and her hips began to rock. Her pussy started to slide from Jean's chin to over the bridge of her nose, and back again. Jean kept her mouth open and her tongue out. Brenda's juices were coating her entire face now.

The pace accelerated, and in a ragged voice, Brenda said, "That's right. That's a good girl" Brenda's pussy twitched when she heard this. She could scarcely breathe. She reached between her legs and began to rub herself. It had never felt so good to touch her own pussy. She realized that she loved this.

Brenda suddenly stopped the rapid pace and ground down even harder. She bucked her hips into Jean's face, suddenly crying out:

"|Oh. You. Dirty. Little. SLUT!"

She writhed in orgasm long moments and slumped over onto the bed. Jean gasped in air, and suddenly her own orgasm arrived, crested.

The next couple of weeks were weird. Brenda acted like nothing had happened, and Jean didn't bring it up. Jean quit dating boys entirely, staying in the dorm, praying that Brenda would make a move. She masturbated, but it just wasn't satisfying.

Finally, she thought of a tactic. Discussing one of the classes they shared, Jean deliberately picked an argument with Brenda. She issued a challenge. "Ok, here's the bet. If I'm right, you have to do anything I ask, if you're right, I'll do whatever you want" Brenda shrugged, but took the bet, not taking it seriously. When Jean was proved correct, she demanded payment. Brenda rolled her eyes. "Ok, fine. What do you want?"

Jean took a deep breath. "I want you to ride my face again."

Brenda stared at Jean for a long quiet moment. "You sure about that, Jeanie?"

Jean nodded emphatically. "I want you to use me, any way you want to,"

Brenda grinned. "What if I want to shove the handle of a hairbrush in your asshole?"

Jean gulped. "I would probably love it."

The next few months were a blissful hell for Jean. Brenda kept finding new ways to blend

pain and pleasure, and Jean simply could not get enough.

One night, Brenda came home a little drunk, and insisted upon borrowing Jean's car.

Jean was very reluctant, but could refuse Brenda nothing.

When the police arrived at the dorm, Jean hoped it was just to say Brenda had been arrested for drunk driving. She'd driven off the road into a tree and died. Jean blamed herself and became a virtual recluse. When her grades fell, she dropped out and went home. She felt and acted like a ghost. Her parents urged her to get a job, to socialize, to go back to school, anything.

When the literal boy next door came home from college for summer break, he courted

Jean and she didn't put up a fight. She didn't care about anything anymore, and more or less sleep walked into their marriage a year later.

And so she found herself in a loveless marriage, having sex with her husband by rote, feeling nothing and living a sterile suburban lifestyle. Until. Until Dr. Crane, and the rumors about her. She felt a bit ridiculous, but she made an appointment. The office wasn't busy. Rumors were evidently keeping people away. That suited Jean fine, as she didn't want end up the subject of gossip herself.

She looked again at her watch. She'd arrived early, but it was now close to the hour she'd booked. Suddenly, a door down the hall opened, and a smartly dressed women in a lab coat stepped out. She strode down the hall toward the waiting room, breaking into a smile, hand extended. "Mrs. Harris, I'm Dr. Crane."

Jean took the proffered hand. Her heart fell as she looked over Dr. Crane, and it took a moment to realize that she had been subconsciously hoping the doctor would look like her beloved Brenda. She shook her head and took in reality. The woman was petite, mid thirties, golden blonde hair done up in a bun. Hourglass figure; wide hips and prominent bust, just the sort to attract male attention. Old doc Judge had smelled of chemicals and cigar smoke. Dr. Crane carried with her a subtle cloud of a perfume that Jean could not identify.

"Please follow me." Jean rose and began to follow down the short hallway. As Paula had said, the woman reeked femininity. Her swaying hips and cute bottom would put Marilyn Monroe to shame.

The examination room was like any other, except that the table included the foot stirrups for gynecological exams, folded down at the moment. Crane gestured to a small chair for Jean to sit, then placed herself onto a low padded stool. "Now, you didn't specify a complaint when you booked this appointment, Mrs. Harris. I presume that means you're suffering some embarrassment in addition to whatever else it is? I can assure you, I'm very discreet. Please tell me what's troubling you, and we'll see what we can do."

Jean hesitated. "Its........ sexual in nature."

Dr. Crane waited for Jean to continue and when she did not, said, "Yes?"

Jean sighed. "I'm married, and I get no pleasure from sex with my husband."

The doctor nodded slowly. "Well, that's nothing to be embarrassed about. Sadly, it's very common. Have you discussed this with your husband?"

Jean shook her head.

"I see. How long has this been going on?"

"It's always been that way," Jean said, looking at the floor. She could feel herself choke up a bit as she confessed it.

"Ah, well... we can probably identify any medical cause, but do you have any idea what's going wrong?"

Jean met the doctor's eyes and said, "Yes, I know what's wrong. I'm a lesbian."

Crane's eyes widened in surprise. "What makes you say that, Mrs. Harris?"

Jean then related the brief sexual affair she had enjoyed in college. Crane was silent for a time.

"Mrs. Harris, did you ever have sexual relations with women after that?"

Jean shook her head.

"Do you masturbate?"

"I try.... but it usually won't work. I get my pleasure from.... giving pleasure, if you know what I mean. Or, I get it from being.... forced to cum."

Dr. Crane frowned. "Mrs. Harris, are you aware that I'm a lesbian?"

Jean nodded.

"Ah, so you thought I'd be particularly equipped to help with this?"

Jean nodded again.

Crane sighed and shook her head.

Jean's face crumpled in misery and she sobbed. Tears began to flow. Crane quickly rose from the stool, and stepped up to the distraught housewife. She took Jean into her arms. "No, no. Don't cry, honey. I'll help you, I promise."

Jean looked up, sniffling. "You will?"

Crane nodded. She walked behind Jean, unzipped the woman's skirt and removed it. "Step out of your shoes, Jean" she said, and as Jean complied, the doctor knelt and tugged her panties down and off.

"Hop up on the exam table," the doctor directed.

Jean rushed to comply. "Lie back and spread your legs for me." Crane resumed her seat on the exam stool, pulling it close. Her face was exactly in line with Jean's pussy. "I think we can dispense with the exam gloves, don't you Jean?" she said, smiling.

"Yes, please" Jean replied as the doctors fingers began to rub and stroke her pussy.

Soon she was dripping and squirming.

Crane's voice showed deep satisfaction. "Just right."

The doctor rose and kicked off her shoes. She unzipped and removed her skirt revealing very feminine panties, quite brief, bright pink and trimmed in lace. Jean didn't have long to appreciate them as the doctor quickly slipped them off.

The exam table had a tall single step for patients to climb up, and for safety it was deep and broad. The doctor climbed up and said, "Now scoot down for me, Jean. Put your little butt right on the edge of the table." As Jean complied, the doctor took hold of her legs and bent them back towards Jean's chest. As she did so she leaned forward and pressed her crotch to Jean's, shifting as she did until their pussies were in direct contact.

"Mmm, yes. Just right."

Jean felt a wonderful pressure on her clit and did her best to hold the position as Crane began a rocking motion, rubbing their pussies together. After a couple of minutes, the doctor closed her eyes, accelerated the pace and increased the pressure. Her hands gripped Jean's legs harder and she pushed them back even further, somewhat painfully. Jean drank in the pain, feeling wanted, feeling used. She could feel an orgasm building deep in her crotch, but stayed focused on her lover, making sure she kept the position she had been put into. She wished that Crane would choke her now, the way Brenda sometimes had.

Dr. Crane did not take long to orgasm, and when she was cumming, leaned down and put her mouth on Jean's. Jean expected a kiss, but the woman instead bit Jean's lips, painfully hard, drawing a little blood. As this happened Jean's own peak exploded. Jean closed her eyes as tears began to flow. She felt like a cheap slut, a fuck toy, and that feeling filled her with excitement and deep satisfaction.

When Crane reached for her panties to get dressed again, Jean begged to be allowed to lap up any juices that might be seeping out of the doctor's pussy. Crane indulged the woman, but when Jean's ministrations began to excite her, she grabbed Jean by the hair and pulled her off. "We don't have time. Not today. Get dressed."

Jean hurried, stuffing her bra and panties into her purse, just putting on her skirt and blouse.

As Jean put her clothes back on, the doctor wrote something on a note pad. When they were both dressed, she handed a slip of paper to Jean. "This will never happen here again; it's too risky. This is the name and address of a motel by the airport. I'll call you when I want you again, and that's where we will meet. Understand?" She gave Jean a hard look.

Jean nodded assent eagerly.

She turned to the door, and hesitated, turning back to the doctor, who was straightening her hair in a mirror. "Doctor?"

Crane looked at Jean with the mirror, impatient. "Yes, what?"

"May I..... may I please have a good bye kiss?"

The doctor smiled, turned and walked to Jean. As they kissed, she slipped her hands under Jean's blouse, and grasped the nipples with her fingers, pinching hard. Jean felt a gush between her legs and groaned into the kiss.

Jean drove home in a daze. Several hours remained before her husband would return home from work.

She stripped naked, and went through the kitchen drawers and bathroom cabinets, assembling an assortment of objects as well as a bottle of hand lotion. She brought them into the bedroom and lined them up on a towel as if they were surgical instruments, from small to large. She applied lotion to the tips of each implement.

Suddenly, she had a thought. She threw on a bathrobe. Returning to the kitchen, she opened the back door and walked into the yard. The clothesline bore dozens of spring load type clothes pins, and she plucked off two, thought a moment, and plucked two more. Returning to the bedroom..... TO BE CONTINUED?