A Baby for Tina

"Thank you," she whispered, giving him a weak smile.

"You're welcome," he said, then chuckled. "You know, this is the first time I've ever held a doctor."

"Doctors sometimes need love, too. Just like everyone else." She kissed him lightly, and giggled a little. "Maybe you should try it sometime. You never know."

"Uhh, no. I know two doctors: my general practitioner, and my dentist. Both are men. I don't think I'll be holding either one of them."

"Oh. I don't blame you, then." They both laughed for a moment, and then Tina turned serious once again.

"Brad, I'm sorry. I told myself all day that I wasn't going to break down, and I barely even made it through dinner. You just look so much like your brother that tonight when I saw you, it was like Tim was still alive and the last six months have just been nothing but a horrible nightmare. When you met me at the restaurant, I wanted to leap into your arms, shower you with kisses, and tell you how much I loved you. But then my mind reminded me that you're not Tim, that Tim's dead, and it felt like it did when they first told me he had died. All through dinner, I had a struggle going on inside me. My heart kept saying, 'Yay! Tim's still alive!', and my mind had to keep reminding me that, 'No, he's not. He's dead'. I know that doesn't make any sense. It doesn't make any sense to me, either. But I just don't know how to explain it better than that. It was like having two parts of my body sending me different, contradictory messages at the same time."

"I understand," Brad soothed. "It's okay."

"You may understand," Tina shook her head. "But it's not okay. I was trying to treat you as some sort of doppelganger of your brother, and it wasn't fair. Not to me, and especially not to you. You may look like Tim, but you're not him. I'm not saying that's a bad thing. You are your own man, with your own life, your own goals, your own personality, and everything else. It's not fair for me to try to force you into some kind of mold of Tim. You're an individual, and you deserve to be treated as one, not just as some sort of copy of your brother. I'm sorry."

Brad sighed and nodded. "Thank you."

"I still mean what I said at dinner: if you're willing, I still want you to father a child with me. You and your brother are separate people, but like I said, your DNA is the same, and that's what I need. I hate how that sounds, because it sounds cold and maybe even a little creepy. But what I desperately want is a child that looks like Tim and me, and has, hopefully, the best attributes of both of us. I want to have a son or a daughter who I can look in their face and see my handsome and brave husband. More than that, though, I want a child who has Tim's intelligence, his loving kindness, his bravery, his toughness, his sense of humor. Yes, a lot of those attributes are due to how we're raised and our life experiences; nurture, not nature. But nature plays a big role, too, and I want my child to have Tim's nature.

"I want to someday sit my son or daughter down and tell them about Tim. I want to tell them about how much we loved each other, how sweet and kind he was, how brave he was, and how dashing he looked in his uniform. I want them to know his generosity, how he'd give a complete stranger the shirt off his back, what a great sense of humor he had, and tell them how many of his good things I see in them. And someday, when they ask what happened to him, I'm going to sit them down and tell them that he died doing an incredibly brave thing, and that they deserve to be proud of him, just like I am. I know Tim died in a dirty, hundred year-old warehouse that should have been condemned and torn down forty years ago, and he didn't save anyone that day. I wish that if he had to die, he died doing something heroic, like saving a bunch of kids or something, and if he were here right now, I know he'd say the same thing. But the fact is, he saved a lot of lives during his career, and who knows how many people were spared from death or serious injury because Tim and his buddies were there? That's what I'm going to tell my child to remember."

She paused and took a deep breath and went on quietly. "There's something else I'd like to tell them as well. When they are an adult themselves, I would love to be able to tell them about their father, too. Their biological father, I mean. I would tell them about how Tim died before they were conceived, and how Tim's twin brother selflessly and generously made it possible for them to be born. I doubt I'll tell them all of the circumstances of their conception," she laughed, "but I'll make sure they know what you did for them. You have my word on that. If you tell me you want left completely out of it, I'll respect that and I won't tell them. You have my word on that, too. But I hope you'll let me tell them."

"Tina, I don't know..."

"Shh," she breathed, covering his lips with hers in a tender kiss. "No more talking. Not tonight. Just take me. Please."

He didn't have to be asked twice. He cradled her head with one hand, wrapping the other arm around her waist as he kissed her.

He felt the warmth of her body and the softness of her skin as she responded to him. He moved down to her neck, and she gave a shudder as he nuzzled and kissed her neck and throat, before lightly tracing a line of kisses along the line of her lower jaw, deeply inhaling her natural scent. Like most doctors, Tina didn't wear perfumes and chose only unscented or lightly-scented lotions and creams, but that only allowed her natural scent to come through unfiltered and unadorned. She smelled faintly like strawberries and cream. Like home, Brad thought, smiling.

He moved up her neck and gently nibbled at her earlobe, causing her to shudder again and goose pimples to rise along her arm.

"Oh, yes..." she breathed passionately. "Oh, God, yessss..."

She reached behind herself and gave a small grunt of frustration as her hand flailed at her back. Brad found the zipper at the back of her dress and tugged slowly downward.

"Is this what you're looking for?" he whispered.

"Yes. Please."

He slowly pulled the zipper down as far as it would go, then rolled onto his back in response to a nudge against his chest. As he rolled over, she rolled on top of him.

Sitting astride him, she gave him a red hot smile as she slid the dress off her shoulders. There was no bra underneath, and as her gorgeous 34B breasts came into view, Brad was transfixed. Her puffy pink nipples were the color of cotton candy, and stood proud atop her breasts, just begging to be sucked.

"I'm afraid my breasts are not very big."

"They're perfect," he replied. "You have the nicest nipples I think I've ever seen."

"Thank you," she beamed. She leaned forward and kissed him, then moved forward slightly, bringing her right breast to his mouth. He greedily took her nipple into his hot mouth, closing his lips over the hard little mound, causing her to gasp.

"God, yes!" she cried. "Oh, Brad, you have no idea what that does to me. It makes me so wet..."

"I can't wait to find out," he grinned up at her. She started to slide her hips forward in response, but his hands quickly stopped her. "Not so fast. There's still too much else I want to explore first." Then he turned his head slightly to his right and took her left nipple in his mouth, as she arched her back in ecstasy.

After he released her nipple, she sat up straight on top of him and finished removing her dress, letting him get a look at what was underneath. All she wore were a white lace garter belt across her flat tummy, a pair of blue bikini panties that matched her dress, and a pair of beige sheer-to-toe thigh-high stockings. He noticed that she had put her panties on over her garters for easy removal, and he smiled at that.

Nearly nude herself, she set to work undressing him. Her nimble fingers unbuttoned his shirt with one hand, as she ran her other hand all over his chest.

Once his chest was fully exposed, she bent forward and lavished kisses all over his torso, slowly working her way downward. When she reached his waist, she undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants before working them down his legs. She stood and pulled his pants off his legs, dropping them on the floor, before sitting on the foot of the bed. Once she made herself comfortable, she started working on detaching her garters from her stockings.

"No," Brad said, surprising her a little. "Leave your stockings on. Please."

"Alright," she replied, smiling from ear-to-ear as she climbed onto the bed on all fours.

She took hold of the waistband of his underwear with her teeth and tugged downward until his hard cock popped free as if it was spring loaded. She looked at it admiringly: six inches and nearly as thick as her wrist. It was so much like Tim's, in so many ways. There was one striking difference, however: every square inch of Brad's crotch was fully shaved, while with Tim, she was doing good if she managed to convince him to let her just give him a trim. She was excited to see Brad's hairless skin. She loved sucking cocks -- especially Tim's -- but she hated getting hair in her mouth. With Brad, it wasn't going to be a problem.

She licked the entire length of his cock and kissed all over it, shamelessly fondling it against her soft cheeks like a just-discovered treasure that she had feared was lost forever. Brad was clearly enjoying himself, judging by the huge grin on his face, as he played with her blonde hair.

"Oh, yeah, babe. Suck my cock."

A drop of pre-cum had leaked out of the tip, and she wrapped her lips over it, using her tongue in a swirling motion like eating an ice cream cone. Then she slid her mouth down over his cock, taking the whole thing to the back of her throat.

She sucked him hungrily for a couple of minutes, until his breathing changed, suggesting he was close. That created a dilemma for her: she was more than willing to have him cum down her throat, while she swallowed every delicious drop, but she worried that if she did so, then he wouldn't be able to fuck. But if she didn't suck him off, he wasn't going to last a minute in her tight pussy, even with a condom on. What to do? The question was answered for her as he slipped his hands under her shoulders and nudged upward.

"Turn over on your back," he groaned. "I'm dying to taste your pussy."

"Yes, sir," she smiled. There weren't many things in life that she enjoyed more than sucking a big cock, but having her pussy eaten was one of them. She flipped over and spread her legs, then almost as an afterthought, grabbed a pillow and slid it under her ass, causing her hips to rotate upward.

Brad made a line down the center of her torso with his tongue, then hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her panties, drawing them down her stocking-covered legs. Her panties were so wet that the crotch clung to her pussy as he pulled them down. When he got to her ankles, she lifted her feet off the bed to allow him to remove her underwear off of them.

He began licking and kissing her ankles. Tim had often done the same, before licking and kissing all the way up her leg until he got to her pussy. By the time he got there, she was practically writhing in anticipation. Tim had been a leg man who loved her legs in stockings, and when Brad asked her to leave her stockings on, she knew he was as well. Nothing wrong with that. She knew, both as a woman and a doctor, something of how sensual her legs could be, but until she met Tim, she'd never fully appreciated just how sensual they were under the ministrations of an expert. The brothers had something else in common as well, she thought: Tim was a leg man, but he absolutely despised feet and during sex more or less he pretended they didn't exist. Judging from the fact that Brad had chosen to start with her ankles and move up from there, he obviously hated feet, too. But she was about to get a big surprise.

Brad moved from her ankle to her stockinged foot, massaging the sole and arch with his thumbs while he kissed along the ridge of her instep. When he reached her toes and gently nibbled on them, she had to grab another pillow and hold it over her face to muffle her squeals of delight. Back in her undergraduate days before medical school, she had had one lover who had known and appreciated the benefits of pleasuring a woman's feet, but he was the only one who ever had. Now, obviously, she had just met another.

"Ohh, dear God in Heaven," she whimpered, her eyes rolling back in her head as Brad nibbled and sucked her toes, both individually and as a group. Each time he did, it felt like little jolts of pleasure rushed up her leg, heading straight for her pussy.

With her bare shaved pussy on open display, she rubbed it in long, lurid circles with one hand, while playing with her nipples with the other. God she was so wet, and her clit was so hard! She plunged one and then two fingers up inside herself, each making a wet squelching sound as she jammed them in and out. Her fingers were a poor substitute for Brad's hard cock, but they were better than nothing.

Brad eventually left her foot and moved up her leg, licking all along the inside of it. When he got above her knee, she stopped fingering herself and instead simply spread herself for him, giving him a peek at her inner depths. It's yours, was the message she was trying to send from her mind to his. Come and take it.

He lay between her legs and explored her pussy with his tongue, tracing her labia both inside and out, licking her inner thighs, and darting his tongue in and out of her vagina. Oddly enough, the one part of her genitals he had little to no interest in, it seemed, was her clit. Occasionally he would flick at it with his tongue just to remind her that he knew it was there and that he hadn't forgotten about it, but just as quickly as he would pay attention to her clit, he would go off to explore something else.

He slid two fingers inside her and massaged the inner walls of her vagina. Once he had them good and coated, he slid them out of her and licked his fingers deliciously. "Mm, that's a tasty pussy," he told her. "Would you like some?"

"Yesss," she growled. "Give it to me."

He scooped out more of her juices with his fingers and brought them to her mouth. She snapped at them with her mouth, and smacked her lips around his fingers.

God, what is he doing to me! her mind screamed. She had masturbated often enough, and at times she had even licked her own juices off her fingers. But not very often. The simple fact was that she didn't care for the taste. But now he was feeding her own juices to her and she couldn't get enough! And what was he doing with her clit? Why was he ignoring it? Tim, like most men, would go straight for her clit when he ate her, nearly to the exclusion of everything else. But not Brad. He didn't seem to care about her clit at all. Why the hell not?! Is he that clueless? Doesn't he know how important the clit is? Doesn't he know how much I want him to pay attention to it, how desperate I am for him to lick it?

Suddenly it all made sense to her: he knew exactly how desperate she was. He wanted her to beg. Well, if that's what it took...

"Please," she moaned. "Please..."

"Please?" he asked innocently. "Please what?"

"Please suck my clit. Please. I'll do anything. Just please suck my clit."

He moved with excruciating slowness, but she could feel his hot breath on her swollen button. She would have loved to have had a mirror so that she could see it; she imagined her poor, neglected clit was huge right then!

He gently took her pleasure button into his mouth and caressed it with his tongue. She drew in a huge lungful of air, making a loud hiss as she arched her back involuntarily, thrusting her pussy into the air. It wasn't an orgasm, exactly. If it was, she had never had an orgasm quite that strong. Oh, dear God!

Her body relaxed, slowly lowering herself back down onto the pillow under her hips, as Brad continued to lick and stroke her neglected clitoris. She was beside herself with pleasure. Several times she opened her mouth to tell him what a great job he was doing, but all that came out was a string of unintelligible moans and whimpers. Tim was okay at cunnilingus; not bad, but nothing spectacular, either. Brad, on the other hand, was a fucking artist! No one in her entire life had ever given her such intense pleasure. Not even close.

He worked on her clit for a while longer before, apparently, reaching his own limit. He rose from between her legs and returned to where he had started, kissing her neck and nibbling her ears.

"Tina," he breathed. "I've got to fuck you. I have to have you."

"Yes," she cried, her voice full of need. "Please. I'm yours. Take me. Please tell me you bought condoms..."

"Front pants pocket," he breathed.

She practically leapt from the bed, and seized his pants off the floor. She had never needed a man inside her as much as she needed Brad. She wasn't sure she had ever needed anything in her entire life as much as she needed him right now.

She found the box of condoms, tore it open, and pulled one out. Brad turned over on his back, with his hard cock pointing straight at the ceiling. She got on the bed, opened the little foil package, and rolled the condom onto him. As soon as it was in place, she threw one leg over him and started to mount him. He, however, had other ideas.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down until their chests were touching, then rolled her over on her back, with her hips on the pillow. She spread her legs wide as Brad climbed on top of her. He kissed her deeply, their tongues intertwining as they explored each other's mouths.

"Are you ready?" he asked her in a husky voice.

"Oh, God, yes," she moaned. "I've never been so ready. Do it, baby."

He lowered his hips onto hers, and she reached down between their bodies to guide him into her. He thrust forward a little, penetrating her, and she lifted her feet off the bed, welcoming him into her body.

She gasped pleasurably and loosely draped her arms behind his neck, gazing deeply into his eyes as he steadily slid all six inches into her. It was amazing how much his cock felt like Tim's.

She expected he was simply going to fuck her, and hard, but he didn't. Instead, he glided luxuriously in and out of her, holding her tight, as his eyes never left hers. As much as she wanted to be fucked, what she wanted and needed even more was to make love, but she knew that was a futile, empty dream. Yet whether Brad had wanted the same thing or he had sensed her need, that's exactly what was happening: he was making love to her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, clinging to him, unwilling to let him go even for a second. His cock felt so amazing inside of her. Oh, God, could this evening possibly get any better?

Their bodies rocked together in unison as he lavishly made love to her. With each thrust into her, she slid her hips forward. This was an unexpected treat. As she flew into town earlier that day, she expected they would probably fuck before the brief overnight visit was through. She did not expect -- did not dare hope -- that he would make love to her.

She felt her orgasm getting closer as her clit rubbed against his pubic bone, pinned as it was between their bodies. He was completely in control of her body, she knew. He had proven that with the unbelievably fantastic job he did in eating her. Her body, her mind, her pleasure was clay in the hands of a true master, and a benevolent one. He was using her body for his pleasure, but for hers as well, and she sensed that her pleasure was in no way less important to him than his own. And like a master artist, he was wasting nothing: her mind, her mouth, her breasts, her pussy, her legs, even her feet. He was using it all to create for her a sexual experience like none she had ever known.