Doctor, Come Quick!

It was just a check up, my annual 'wellness' visit. Dr. Kholi scheduled me for her last appointment of the day in her office out past the Thunderbolt Bridge.

Subscription medicine they call it. I pay monthly and she doesn't have to deal with the fucking insurance companies. She can take her time and I don't feel like a widget being processed on an assembly line but like a living, breathing human. A better deal all around.

December in the Low Country is balmy. Warm but dry with camelias and leopard plants blooming in the sandy soil. The live oaks hold their leaves to drop them suddenly at the first hint of spring. I can drive with my windows down and smell the sea tang in the air as I ride the bridge over the marsh and look past the marina to the fuzzy line where sky meets the sea. The eternal edge.

I'm reminded of that old joke - If you hold the seashell-smooth skin of a woman's inner thigh to your ear you can smell the ocean.

Dr. Kholi's been on my mind. Being fifty three and single, women take up a large part of my thoughts, I admit. I've always been drawn to their living, breathing humanity. And their potential as the yin to my yang. Drawn to all of them, not just one. And they're drawn to me.

So I'm imagining the doc from past visits - professional, trim, well put together, warm, at least head shorter than me, honestly curious about my health, my 'wellness'. She's got the quick, attentive manner of a sandpiper.

That white coat and those sensible office shoes always invite me to imagine what's underneath. Besides, she's very likeable, the sort I'd ask out for coffee and a slow seduction if I thought there was any chance.

But she's married with a kid. What's that got to do with it, you ask? I've had a lot of women, but I haven't stolen one, haven't taken what wasn't mine. There are so many out there why do it the hard way? I have to turn the married ones away as graciously as possible.

What I know about the doc: her family's from Kerala, India and she was raised in London. She is called Priya, meaning 'beloved' in Sanskrit. The family sent her to medical school and arranged her marriage. To an older man, about my age, if the photos on her desk are accurate. He's a bit balding, a bit paunchy, looking sour despite the cute, dark woman beside him.

Maybe it wasn't his life's dream to teach economics in a swampy, backwater branch of the University of Georgia in the USA. There's one Indian restaurant in town and it's not very good.

My practice has been to be the best lover any single woman could want as long as it wasn't for too long. They usually find someone to settle down with anyway by the time we've had our run of fun. And it's even easier at fifty-three because the range of interest and experience is three decades deep. Twenty-one and up - I sample them all.

Now I sound like I'm bagging and bragging. So what? Women find me. Or the universe matches us. In any case, somehow when a woman needs a good dick I appear in her life. She gets to test her limits, learn some valuable lovemaking skills and, if later is partnered for life, doesn't have to regret what she missed.

My pickup slows to idle as I drift into the parking lot. I leave the windows open and stroll across the sand-dusted asphalt, cracked and grassy in the pattern of the roots of the ancient oak that shades the office.

Gail, the receptionist, greets me by name and no, I don't need to fill out the same damned form every time I have an appointment.

Tiny lights woven through the Norfolk Island Pine in the big pot give the pastel waiting room a southern holiday air.

Dr. Kholi escorts a patient out, making pleasant small talk all the way to the door. That's one thing so charming about her - she really cares about her patients and the minutia of their lives. I admire her ability to keep it all in her head between visits.

I can't keep all my women straight sometimes. I'm not proud of that, just built differently, I guess.

"Gail, you can take off if you're done with the filing, OK?" said the doc, "and lock the door on the way out. Have a great visit to Chicago and your grandkids."

Gail didn't hesitate, just grabbed her bag and headed for the door. "Yeah, you can treat me for frostbite when I get back," she chuckled. The women shared a brief, tight hug.

Why do scrubs make every woman's ass look good? Maybe I just like asses, but funny how the simplest garment does the best job. Keeps clothing designers in business, I guess, foolishly trying to improve on perfection. Gail caught me ogling her butt and gave a small wink on the way out.

"Hello, Jim," the doc smiled and gestured to the consulting room door, "Always good to see you."

Her eyes did the head-to-toe survey. The board shorts, muscle-t and flip-flops showed what I've been all my life, a clean-shaven, chestnut-brown beach bum.

I'm lean and leathery. Sunburnt hair, toothy smile. Fit, not swole. I can get all I own in that pickup, including the three surf boards. When he's in town Mark Wahlberg is mistaken for me.

An aunt left me her beach house and a trust fund and I've done next to nothing since college but enjoy the sun and the women. I fought my fate for a while, tried to work, to have a 'normal' life, but it seems my role in this world is to exercise the healing power of a good fucking.

Me and the doc are kinda alike that way - healing people, I mean. I've accidentally become a sort of amateur gynecologist-slash-sex therapist.

Dr. Kholi knows all of this about me. Her initial consultation involved a pretty thorough series of questions so she could treat the 'whole person'. Shes been ultra professional in the four or five years I've been seeing her. No judgement, just good doctoring. This is a small town and I wonder, since many of her clients are women, some of whom have partaken of my 'services', if Priya knows more about me from them than from these annual interviews.

Being a healer of the sexual kind my radar's always scanning. If there's a woman in distress nearby I can tell. Like the librarian who checked out my books the other day. She checked me out, too, and my senses told me that she might need a week or two of my special expertise.

In the small consulting room with the doc I got a little frisson, too. Something in her eyes when she smiled, sitting opposite me beside her desk with back straight and her black hair pulled into a tight bun.

She had her usual prim, professional manner, typing into my history one more chapter, but a little more animal energy around her this time. I can't ever explain how I sense these things. Is it aura or odor? Something in her spoke to that universal energy in me. Like a low hum in the background. And a buzz in my balls.

"So, another year around the sun, Jim," she smiled, "Any complaints?"

"No, a little banged up around the edges, but the old machine's ticking along alright. The usual wear and tear." My practice of looking directly in a person's eyes will either intimidate or get intimate. The doc held my gaze long enough for me to see a faint longing in her. Wistfulness. I was afraid I'd be disappointing her soon.

She moved on and asked all the usual list of questions about my habits and my ability to do the daily stuff, like dressing, feeding myself and etc. She ran through her list in a perfunctory manner, since I never do have any complaints and of course I'm not that old. I'm about as prime a male as you could find. I attribute that to lots of exercise, a good diet, moderate alcohol and having found my true calling.

Like she was just reading off her list the doc asked, "Have you experienced any erectile dysfunction in the last year?" her fingers poised over the keyboard.

"No, not once," I smiled, "You haven't asked that one before, doc."

I noted her gaze slide over the family photo on her desk. "Some men begin to slow down... to notice some difficulties in that... uh... area after forty."

"Some men?" I knew how to help her get to the point, however circuitously, now sure my sense of her neediness was true, ready to let her down gently.

"So, Jim, you haven't had trouble maintaining an erection at any time, even once in the last year?"

"No, and I haven't had any complaints from anyone... that I know of," I leaned closer.

"It sometimes presents as a reduction in the frequency of intercourse between partners." I watched her chest in the white coat rise, her breathing deepening.

"Oh, I'm still good with four or five times a week," I felt my cock swell in the mesh pouch in the board shorts.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "I see... four or five times a week...." she typed this dutifully into the history. "You see, it's a supply and demand issue, too, for some couples."

"You mean if I were to have sex more frequently I might show some symptoms?"

"Yes, then I would prescribe an erectile dysfunction medication. If you asked for it, of course. It's quite safe," she looked the slightest bit sheepish, "and we would test for efficacy according to the best medical practices."

"But I'm not having issues now.... You think I should do it more often to see when those symptoms show up? I can make a couple of calls and get back to you tomorrow."

"No!" she blurted, "Rather, this being a medical issue, I'd be more comfortable, as your physician, testing and treating here in the office."

Both of us were smiling broadly now, enjoying the game, though her eyes reverted to a demure downward cast as she struggled with this game of plausible deniability. She wanted what I had. Still, I have principles. "You're married, Priya."

A tear squeezed from the corner of her eye and she dabbed with the back of her hand. "Not any more," she sighed, "not, in essence, for a long time. But Ravi's gone back to London and I don't expect him to return."

The universe had delivered again. Needy female meet ready erection.

"Well, then," I said, hands on my knees, "how does the testing protocol work?"

For a moment she seemed aghast. I'm sure she'd never propositioned a man before in her life. Probably had only ever been with her husband. How scary it must have been.

"I'll follow your instructions to the letter, doc. You're the expert."

She scoffed, "Jim, that's kind of you, and I appreciate it," she took a deep breath and stood up. "Thank you for letting me find my way at my own speed."

I stood too. In one step we could have embraced. She wasn't ready for that, though. She twisted the blind at the window and turned off the light, casting the consulting room into a striped container of setting sun, golden and dim.

"The first step in the procedure is for me to assist you in removing your clothes," she said, turning to me. I simply held my arms out to the side and smiled. If it helped the doc to play doctor, then I'd play along. There was already a good bulge in my shorts, which didn't escape her attention.

She paused, standing at the last threshold. I waited. She marshaled her courage and tugged at my t-shirt. I bent forward to let her pull it over my head. The doc tossed it on the chair. She looked down at my bulging shorts and took another deep breath.

"Stand very still, please," she said and knelt slightly, grasped the waistband. And pulled down. Of course the cloth hung on my swelling organ and there was a moment of awkward tug and shift until I sprung free. She stood back, shocked it seemed, and let the shorts drop to the floor.

"Jesus," she breathed, eyes riveted, arms unconsciously shielding her body, still in it's white coat and sensible shoes. The golden stripes of sunset outlined both of us, put our shapes in high relief.

One girlfriend had called it dinosaur dick. Not misshapen exactly, but big and curved with a droopy, fleshy ballsack, gnarled like a tree root, purple and dark in it's thick cowl of foreskin. Proud, alert, with an almost sentient intelligence, if of the reptile kind.

Priya probably hadn't seen such a prong before. Her forehead wrinkled. Perhaps some medical curiosity was aroused along with her libido. Maybe she had second thoughts.

"This thing's satisfied hundreds of women, Priya," I whispered. I kicked my shorts aside and slipped out of my flip-flops, stood there naked, aroused, confident and ready. "And you're in complete control."

Again she hesitated. Then carefully reached for my cock and let it lie in the palm of her hand, weighing it and the possibilities. The doc likely was creaming her panties now. Her weight shifted from foot to foot. She licked her lips.

"Take your time," I said, "get familiar with him."

"He has a name?"

"Oh, a dozen over the years..." I made a wry smile, "You can name him eventually if you want. Once you get a good sense of his character."

She chuckled. Squeezed. My balls churned. I felt my cock ooze a shiny drop into her palm.

"Ooooohh," she breathed, squeezing again, "He's exhibiting signs of arousal, Jim."

My turn to close my eyes. She cupped my balls in her other hand. "I need to palpate the tissues in order to determine their health status. Unfortunately it's too late to get a baseline reading of the resting state."

Rolling my testicles gently in her fingers and pulling my foreskin over the tip, she looked like she was really trying to determine... something....

"If you want a sperm sample first just keep doing that, doc." I gasped.

"I see," she said, eyebrow arched, "he responds well to stimulation, I'll note." She contemplated my heavy shaft, balls resting in her hand. "He's as thick as my wrist, Jim.... I'm not sure I can...."

"The woman in you wants a man in you. But don't rush it," I stepped back and gave her the head-to-toe survey, "Would you let me see you, Priya? Physician," I winked at her, "peel thyself."

The woman chuckled. Nervously her hands found the buttons of her white coat and slowly worked their way down. Underneath was a pale blue silk blouse and charcoal black skirt, a simple elegance hidden all this time. Her erect nipples didn't escape my notice. She tossed the coat on the chair.

"Jim, I've been imagining this for a while... and I know I look anxious. I'm going to fumble this... will you do it?" she said indicating the rest of her clothes, the pearl buttons of her blouse.

"Turn around," I said and put a hand on each of her slim shoulders as she did. I kissed her neck and felt her tremble. I reached around and began to tenderly unbutton her. She pressed back against my hardness, leaned against me. She'd surrendered.

Yet I sensed that being the good, obedient girl was her training, meant to make her a good little wife. But what her propositioning me meant was that she was ready to take the reins herself. It was easier to turn control over to me, but my role in the universe was to help her grow out of her former, subservient self.

Slowly I popped the top button and trailed my fingers across the flesh exposed. I went lower and found bare skin down her breastbone as each button released. "You're not wearing a bra, are you Priya?"

I noted the little pulse in her throat as she paused, then said, "I've been finding excitement in little secrets since Ravi left."

I moved my hand and cupped a breast. I found just the merest of creases underneath, moist and slick to my fingers. The nipple pinched tight and the silk flowed against the back of my hand.

She breathed deep. "This is my domain, here, this office. At home I was the good, little Desi wife. I think my son doesn't respect me, either. He's gone to London with his dad for the holiday. I'm afraid he won't come back, Jim...." Did she feel the need to justify her actions?

"He's probably got a fat, little middle-aged Desi widow to cook and clean and lie with him once a month," she whispered, sad.

"Sounds like your sacrifice wasn't appreciated and you've got a natural appetite that's been frustrated."

"Oh, it's too obvious isn't it?"

"Nevermind that now," I gave a gentle squeeze to her breast, "What are you hungry for?"

"Get me naked, Jim," and she pulled at the silk until the blouse parted and fell to the floor from her arms. Her birdlike back, smooth as the silk of her blouse, invited licking. I followed her spine down one vertebra at a time until I reached the hem of her skirt. Salty. She leaned her hands on the exam table.

I ran my fingers up her legs, leaving the sensible shoes, but stroking above the hem, reaching her thighs, finding no panties when my hands cupped her butt.

Priya lay her torso on the exam table and I threw the skirt up over her ass. Now I had her tight cheeks to savor. "So, commando all the way, I see."

"Jim... no one's ever put their mouth on me there..."

Poor woman, I could fix that. "Put one knee up on the table, Priya."

There her purple-dark labia, already swollen with need, unzipped for me, revealing a thin, pink seam of her insides. I pushed my tongue in. And drooled. Added my drool to her fluids, seeping from her. She shuddered. She whimpered.

My lungs filled with the musk of a libido that had been on a low boil all day, my tongue in the greasy wedge where her womanhood cooked.

I went gently, letting my fingers tease at the flesh around her opening. I licked at her vulva tenderly, moving away then back to her hot center. She pushed back.

"Ohhhh, Jim," she sighed, "They were right at pilates..." then she gasped when I found her bud and my tongue began a rhythmic dance with it. "Your mouth has a reputation..."

The woman went silent then, gulping air and quivering. I pulled her cheeks apart and made a wide swipe along her pussy, then moved back to tongue-tapping her clit.

She screamed.

And shook.

And tore at the paper on the table. Her legs convulsed, her pussy dripped. I kept on until she went limp and slowly I stood, face shiny. Groggy, she raised her head and turned.

"Take me, Jim," she breathed, a pleading in her eyes, fumbling to strip out of the skirt, that ended up tossed to the floor.

I grasped her around her birdcage ribs and hoisted her onto the exam table. My cock bobbed with my pulse, inches from heaven. She looked down at it and spread her legs and leaned back on her elbows, her vulva, dark and wet and swollen, open for me.

I moved forward, pushed my cock down a notch, found her soft center and pressed firmly until the knob slipped between her labia. Priya stared at our union, wide eyed. She took a deep breath, twitched, said, "God, Jim, go slow, but for God's sake GO!"

Our bodies conformed to each other, my cock spearing upward into her hot, grasping channel.

"Ah, ah, ah...." she gasped. My shaft crept forward, shiny, slippery centimeter by centimeter. I put one of her legs over my shoulder and cradled the other in my elbow, the white shoes dangling. She grabbed my shoulders and watched. My feet planted, I leaned in and her body took me.

"I can't believe it..." she panted. "I'm so full and so fucking close again. Move, Jim, move, please..."

I pulled slowly out and felt the suction of her. We watched my wide crown pull her tissues with it when I nearly sprung free. But I pushed back and quicker this time. She writhed on my prong, with a deathgrip on my shoulders. She closed her eyes and threw her head back, the bun come loose now, her teeth bared.

I moved like a freight train on a ten mile grade. Steady and strong, powering down the track, filling her and emptying her. She gasped and shook and came again and again.

Then she laughed, shaking with mirth and delight. Man, it feels so good to make a woman feel so good. I won't tire of it.

"I never..." she panted, "I never came like that before.... never... oh, Jesus..."

I picked her up, still spitted on me. She wrapped her legs around my waist and clung to my neck. I got my hands under her ass and moved her up and down. She buried her face in my shoulder, groaning.

I thought about pushing her back up against the wall and grinding her body. But this was her show, her first real take-the-reins adventure.

I turned carefully and eased my butt onto the exam table, slid on the wet vinyl, rotated so we were aligned and she could ride me cowgirl.

"Now," I said, "You can take all the pleasure from me that you want and I want you to make me come and come hard. Think you can do that?"

Above me, little boobs jiggling, the golden stripes of sunset molding her body, she nodded, earnest. Then she began to move along my organ, feeling herself fill and empty, taking charge of our pleasure. The small woman looked determined.

"When I was little I always wanted a pony, Jim. I think I finally got the pony."

I let the pleasure take me, watching her delight in making me squirm, seeing the surprise in her eyes as she rose to another peak along with me.

My hands on her waist, her black hair fallen loose over her shoulders, eyes hooded as she drifted on the ecstasy, I let the joy take me. I pushed up and she rocked, balanced on my pole.

I felt the fire begin in my balls, felt my spine stiffen, my legs press down, my hips rise, my ass clench. Then... convulsions, a pistoning and a pushing and a deep growl growing in my throat. Priya watched me taken by orgasm under her, my fountain bursting inside her, wide-eyed and grinning.

I held her eyes when the fury began, jammed her on my cock, its eruptions slicking her insides, running down her thighs. I bucked and she held on, laughing as she came again, too.

My explosions echoed each other, pounding upward into her, slowly spending themselves. Priya fell onto my sweaty chest, crushing her boobs against me, gasping.

Both arms wrapped around her, I kept us pressed together, softened in her, felt the heat and wet of our fluids run down my balls. We didn't speak for a long time as the sun slipped below the longleaf pines, their saw-edged silhouette sharp.

As I cradled her Priya slept on me. My breathing slowed, my sweat cooled. The room smelled of sex and happiness.

Some time later, we stirred, stiff and chilled in our pooled sweat and sex juices. Sweet, sweet, sweet - I love the slow recovery afterward. I set her down gently and she tiptoed to the bathroom. She brought a steaming towel back and cleaned me.

"Jim, you're a civic treasure, you know?"

I just smiled, exhausted, mind-blown as usual after lovemaking.

"I'd like to write a prescription for you to every woman in my practice who needs your kind of medicine," she chuckled, "Some people need talk therapy, many need cock therapy."

"And how does my treatment proceed, doctor?"

"I think you're going to need a daily follow-up visit at least until January first, Jim."

Well, that should work fine, I thought, I've got some library books due on the second. And a librarian in obvious distress.

"You know, Jim..." she got kind of shy again, "At pilates I heard something else..."

"Priya, sounds like there's a lot of rumors in this little town."

"The women around here really value you, Jim. It's a well-kept secret from the men, of course, but they've been comparing notes on you."

The doc stood there wearing only her shoes and the white coat draped over her shoulders and said, looking determined again, "They say at home you've got a room with mirrors and.... and restraints?"