Cosplay

He leaned forward again, reached around and beneath her to grasp her clit with his thumb and finger, and resumed the stroking of his cock, slowly moving in and out of her tight, tender twat, smiling with intense bliss at the feel of this lovely cunt, clenching so hard on him, so clearly yearning for him to fuck her harder.

Screwing the girl so slowly brought a new pleasure to the act. It was like when he watched a movie in slow motion; he noticed so much more detail. Or, when he turned down the volume of a record, he listened more closely, more intently, as he was doing now, feeling her cunt more intently, more closely, noticing so much more detail. This was one certainly for the memory books. He made a mental note to film future sessions. It would have indeed been rather nice to have a record of this.

Madeline had already been so very close, and the more subtle, slower, softer stroking that her slit was now receiving did not diminish her pleasure, her arousal, at all. On the contrary, it only thrust her over the edge. She passed being close, she was on the verge, the precipice, and about to fall off. "Grab my boobs, doctor! Please, grab them and squeeze them!"

He did as she requested, letting go of her clit and using both hands to grab onto those humongously hanging globes, gripping, squeezing, pawing, and mauling them, as his cock softly, teasingly, tenderly probed her cunt.

It was too much for Madeline and her body suddenly shivered, shook, and shuddered as her orgasm swept through. "Oh, doctor," she quietly gasped.

Dr. Venkman felt his subject's orgasm through his cock, as it was suddenly engulfed by her cunt's convulsive spasms, and he gave himself over to his own climax, feeling that wonderful surge of energy, that primal primitive force, engulf his body and then shoot forth from his loins, up his shaft, and explode out his dick, into Madeline's cunt. He quickly provide a lame excuse. "Gonna release now the probe's fluid, right now, inside, man, unh," he groaned as he felt himself gush forth into her cunt.

Madeline gasped as she felt the probe releasing, injecting its fluid deep inside her. The timing couldn't have been better, as it felt just like a cock spitting its load into her cunt, a very fitting accompaniment to her own orgasmic release. She whimpered with deep satisfaction as she gripped tightly on the probe with the muscles of her twitching cunt and let herself be carried away by the finest primitive pleasure of life.

Dr. Venkman's eyes were half-closed with his own lost reverie in the throes of his throbbing, spewing cock. He grabbed tightly onto the young lady's swinging, pendulous breasts, not only for pleasure but also to steady himself, as his legs were giving away, his mind was feeling faint, as his entire body was absorbed in the engulfing waves of release and relief.

As she felt the final twitches of the probe, and the final convulsions of her own release, Madeline sighed deeply and relaxed, and then suddenly, with her relaxation, her physical resignation, she slipped off the stool, losing her balance with the weight of the doctor upon her.

"Oh my goodness!" She squealed, as she fell to the floor, the probe slipping out of her cunt with a sloppy slurp. "Doctor!" she yelled, as she turned back to try to grab him, as he tried as well to reach for her, and then, her eyes widened with surprise, recognition, of what the probe really was.

It was kind of hard not to recognize, as the doctor's hard cock was sticking out of his pants, spitting out a couple of final spurts, that landed on her skirt and leg.

"Oh my gosh! Doctor Venkman. Your penis, it's your penis!"

He quickly covered himself, but it was rather obviously too late. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He knew he was in trouble, big trouble. What could he do? What could he possibly do?

A part of Madeline, though, was not entirely surprised, or even really shocked. She had been suspecting throughout, or at least at some point, that something was not right, but a part of her hadn't really minded, being herself caught up in her play, her arousal, as the subject. And, how could she really be offended? How could she object? Was it any different than what she had done so many times herself? In fact, a part of her was frankly impressed that she had been fooled. Well, not entirely fooled, she would often subsequently remind him.

Sitting on the floor she covered her breasts as best she could and clamping her thighs shut. She asked, "Are you even a doctor, a psychologist?"

He couldn't lie now, not anymore. At this point it was best, and only right, that he be entirely truthful. "No, no, not really." He hesitated, "Actually, in fact, not at all."

"What then are you?"

"Just a guy, a student." He confessed. She at least deserved that. "I, well, I play these games. I dress up in different costumes and stuff and pretend like I'm someone else."

Madeline smiled.

He was surprised. She's smiling?

It was indeed a perfect match, and Madeline soon quit her sessions with Dr. Lowenstein. She no longer needed them. She had found her companion, her fellow, her soul mate, someone who shared her values, her interests, her identity.

Madeline and Bill (that was his real name) soon developed a partnership in cosplay, working together to develop really wonderful games. They particularly enjoyed their newlywed cosplay, switching partners with older couples they would meet in vacation spots, which did they in fact first enact on their actual honeymoon in Hawaii.

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I hope you liked it! I myself very much enjoy cosplay, so this was a pleasure to write. Please do vote!