Family Practice

I took a step towards my mother so that I could reach around her. I slipped my arms under hers and pulled her back into me so that her back came into contact with my tits and her ass full against my thighs. I'm sure my nipples were burning holes into her shoulder blades. Her cool skin felt like a salve against my overheated body. I put my mouth right by her ear.

"All right," I whispered, "let's start..." I brought my right hand up over her stomach to her left breast. With my left hand, I lifted her left arm up. She was like putty in my hands, her limbs limp and relaxed. I could see her eyelids flutter closed as my hand lifted her breast gently, oh so gently, cupping it like a nervous bird. I carefully palpated the mass of her boob, as if feeling for lumps, but in actuality just feeling, feeling, caressing, letting my thumb sweep across her nipple.

She was breathing smoothly, shallowly, every so often a little catch in her breath showing how intensely she was enjoying my massage. I continued to murmur instructions in her ear. I switched hands to caress her right tit, now simply stroking it, rolling the nipple in my fingers, my other hand running up and down the length of her graceful arm. Her cheeks were flushed now, and I judged it the right moment to kiss her neck, lightly, subtly. Her sudden exhale betrayed her rising excitement.

I started to let my hands wander where they would, moving down her sides to her hips, slipping across her stomach, lingering in the tangle of her pubic hair, sneaking between us to slide over the smooth skin of her ass. I sought her mouth with my lips, and she twisted her head lithely to meet me halfway. In a second our tongues were exploring each other's mouths. My mind whirled with this redefinition of our relationship, but I set that aside, clinically, for further analysis later. Right now, I swept my sweet, light mother into my arms and laid her on her stomach on my bed.

With one alabaster leg bent at the knee, her thighs slightly spread, she gazed at me over her shoulder with a half-lidded languid stare. I wanted to investigate that superb rear end, so innocent and childlike, so unlike Miranda's sassy butt. I brought my hand down my mother's back to the point where her ass started to curve out, and then moved it over the rising flesh to the peak of the buttock on one side. The firm muscle underneath pushed out against my palm. I raised my hand and brought it back down against the skin with a sharp smack. My mother gasped slightly, as the butt cheek quivered under the impact. I lifted my hand again to see the consequences of the blow, and was rewarded with a faint red tinge where I had struck.

I leaned down and kissed the area, gently, salvingly, healing whatever pain I had caused with my mouth and tongue. Now, close as I was, I felt an overwhelming drive to see her asshole. I placed one hand on each buttock and pulled them apart. Not more than an inch or two away, I was gratified with the sight of Mom's nether hole, shyly exposed in the valley between her asscheeks. I stared at the light brown orifice, and felt Mom begin to squirm under my observation. I blew lightly over her anus with a flow of warm breath, and it contracted before releasing once more to its original state. Mom was clearly in a receptive mood, so I extended my tongue and made contact with her skin just a few inches above her anus. I lathed downward with my tongue and drew it across the wrinkled skin surrounding the entry to her rectum.

Mom jumped lightly at the heat of my tongue against her sensitive anus. I rimmed gently around the circumference, seeking to cause her muscles to relax. Then I pointed my tongue directly at the center of the hole and pushed inward. After a moment of resistance, I felt the sphincter give way, and my tongue was inside my mother's anus. With my lips glued to the area around her asshole, I worked my tongue in and out, enjoying the feel of her muscle gripping mine, the pungent taste of her rectum, the startling position I was in with the woman who had given birth to me twenty-four years previously.

My mother was clearly enjoying my attentions, as I could tell from the moans and gasps she emitted. I decided to up the ante, and placed my hand beneath my chin to get at her pussy. In no time, I had a finger, then two, then three, insinuated into the birth canal I myself had passed through. There was something terrible and insistent about her submissive role, something that caused me to become more and more rough with my thrusts. It was as if I was pushing her to get a response, something, anything, to force her to acknowledge me as she had so rarely done in my childhood.

But instead of being hurt, she seemed to be becoming more and more aroused. Her moans became louder, more guttural, as I ravaged her anus and vagina. She writhed beneath me, and then suddenly went rigid, in the throes of the strangest orgasm it had ever been my privilege to witness. Her whole body shuddered, her fists clenched, and her anal sphincter clamped so hard on my tongue it brought tears to my eyes. This was my mother?

Suddenly, with an agile twist, Mom escaped from beneath me and lightly stepped to her robe. She turned, winked at me and said:

"So that's how you do a breast self-exam. Thanks for the lesson!"

4.
I was still stunned by my encounter with my mother, when I heard, for the fourth time in a day and a half, a knock on my door.

"Come in," I called, without thinking.

The door opened, and my Dad stepped into my bedroom. He stopped short, staring at me. All of a sudden, I realized that I was still wearing only my panties. Zing! My nipples suddenly became painfully erect. I blushed down to my chest. Oh, fuck it, I thought, and stood up, reaching for my kimono.

"Close the door, Dad. What can I do for you," I said, nonchalantly covering my nudity.

"Well, Ari, I've, um..."

"No, wait," I interrupted, "let me guess. You need a prostate exam, you don't want to go to your doctor (you never did), so you're relying on the kindness of your daughter to help you out."

"Geez, when you put it like that, it seems like I'm trying to take advantage of you! I - Wait a second. How the hell did you know that, anyway?"

"Call it an educated guess," I grimaced. "Come over here and take off your clothes."

My Dad walked over to my bed and began to unbutton his shirt. Dad's 42 years old, and he has a bit of a paunch on him now. But that hasn't taken anything away from his powerful build: at 6'2", he still has his linebacker's body that even two decades of sitting behind an exec desk hasn't diminished. His dirty blond hair has started to show some streaks of grey, but I think that's made him look more distinguished. His piercing grey eyes could reduce a junior vice president to a bag of quivering jelly. I guess Dad's strength of character and personality are what drove me in college to try dating big men like him. None of them had even the tiniest fraction of his drive or intellect. No one could match up to him. Maybe that's why I've been seeing so few men recently.

After taking off his shirt, revealing his upper body, hairy (but not too much so), still good definition in his biceps and pecs, Dad unbuckled his belt and lowered his pants. He stood before me in his boxers and socks, looking a little uncertain.

"Well, kid, do I have to take everything off?" he asked nervously. I could detect a slight quiver in his voice that was echoed by a twitch in his groin.

"Yup, Dad. Can't do a prostate with your undies on," I replied, trying not to stare too directly at the bulge between his legs. I have to admit that I felt a powerful curiosity to see the other half of the pair of organs responsible for my creation. But I was momentarily prevented from achieving that goal when Dad turned around before slipping his boxers off of his hip and to the ground. As his butt came into view, I had a remarkable sensation of electricity running down my spine and settling in my pussy. I had the most peculiar opportunity of possessing both of my parents' asses in one day!

Dad stepped out of his boxers and leaned forward, his hands resting on the mattress, presenting his ass towards me. I stepped towards him and placed my hand on his hip.

"Well, Mr. Prosper," I jokingly stated in my best clinical tone, "you're in very good shape for a man of your age."

"Watch it, young lady!" he retorted, "Doc or no doc, yer still my daughter!"

"Sure thing, Dad," I said, absent-mindedly patting his hip.

"Now, let's see," I muttered under my breath, pretending to look for my lubricant, while letting my hand slip down on to his buttock. "Here it is. Now I'm going to put some jelly on my finger and spread it around your anus in order to make the digital exam more comfortable, OK?"

He nodded his assent as I squirted a fair amount of the lubricant onto my index finger. I used the hand that had been on his ass to pull one buttock outward revealing his anus. I knelt behind him so that his ass was at eye level and placed my finger next to his winking hole. I slowly moved it around in wide circles, spreading the lubrication all around his anus, on both cheeks, between his legs, even brushing against the back of his ballsac. I used far more finesse than I would have in clinic, building up his anticipation. Each time my finger circled his anus, I felt him push back against me, seeking to get my finger inside of him.

Finally I relented and began the push inwards. He gasped as he felt the invasion, the probing digit moving into his rectum. I extended my finger all the way inside of him, and felt it slide over the walnut shape of his prostate. I moved my finger back and forth across the gland, massaging it, increasing his obvious excitement. I knew that if I could get him to turn around now, I would be presented with the best evidence of his arousal right across my face. Just the sight of my finger engulfed in his anus was enough to get me close to my own orgasm.

"You know," I ventured, "you should be doing testicular self examinations every month. Why don't I show you how to do that?"

Before he could say a word, I removed my finger from his anus and turned his hips so he would have to face me. As I had suspected, his penis was in an enormous state of erection, and as he turned, it came to rest lying directly across my cheek. So warm, so hard, so beautiful.

"Oops. Perfectly natural reaction, of course," I claimed, grasping the root of his penis to move it away from me an inch or so. "Now, here's how you examine your testicles."

I fondled his testes in complete disregard for clinical detachment, slightly jacking on the base of his cock as I did so with my other hand. I was a mite lost in my worship of his organ, delighting in the experience of giving my own father a hand job. Suddenly, I felt his balls contract in my hand, and cum spewed out of the end of his penis, spraying me right across the face. The second blast went directly into my mouth, the warm salty fluid coating my tongue. The third and last hit me across the chin and neck. I looked up at him adoringly.

He looked down at me in horror.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry, honey sorry sorry sorry," he babbled as he grabbed his clothes and stumbled out the door. I could have screamed in frustration. Instead I sucked thoughtfully on his sperm.

"Normal prostate by digital exam and seminiferous ejaculation," I stated for the record.

5.
As strangely fulfilling as my encounters had been over the past 24 hours, they had also been singularly frustrating for me. Each of my visitors had entered my room, taken something from me sexually in exchange for what? I wasn't sure. One thing I could tell, however. I needed some and I needed some bad.

All of a sudden I heard a scratch on the door. I went to open it, and there was Prince, our German Shepherd. He looked up at me and whined lovingly.

"OK," I sighed, "you'll have to do. But remember one thing: I'm no veterinarian!"