Matchmaker Bandit Novel Pt. 04

"What did you say her name was again?" She asked as she began running her tongue along the length of my engorged penis.

She had just taken the head of my cock into her mouth and was swirling her tongue around it. Fighting to maintain my concentration, I said, "Victoria Mercer"

"Is she full figured with blond hair, blue eyes and about 6'0" tall?" Penelope asked as she began licking her way down from the tip of my penis to its base.

"That's the way she looked the last time I saw her." My cock had begun tingling electrically for she had started rolling her tongue around the head of my penis once more.

"Do you happen to know what kind of doctor she wanted to be?" She asked just before taking me in her mouth and beginning a slow bobbing motion up and down my cock.

When her head reach the crown of my manhood, I barely grunted out the words, "She talked about becoming a urologist. She said there was more money in specializing than in family practice."

As she held my manhood in her hand and stroked it slowly, she lifted her head and looked at me to say, "I know for a fact that there's only one urologist in Atlanta named Victoria Mercer and she's not married."

"How do you know that?" I asked intrigued.

This time, Penelope was the one who remained mute for she had once more taken my cock into her mouth and was bobbing her head up and down its length. After about a minute, she raised her head again and said, "You might want to consider looking her up? Even if nothing comes of it, perhaps you might find some closure."

Feeling the stirrings of orgasm building in my loins, I struggled to say the words, "After the lifestyle I lived, I don't think she'd want me."

"You'll never know if you don't try, will you?" Penelope said; as she expertly paused her oral attentions long enough for me to be pulled from the brink of orgasm.

While she slowly stroked and teased my cock, I said to her, "Suppose she rejects me?"

"Then I guess you'll face that when the time comes, won't you? Speaking of cumming, I want this thing inside me!" And with that, she climbed atop me and in a single action took me inside her and started grinding her pussy around my cock as she began fucking me wildly.

When I was leaving that evening, she said to me, "If Vicky doesn't want you Lyle, you can come to me anytime you want until you find the one you're looking for."

Pulling out of her driveway, I couldn't help wondering what her therapy sessions were like. One thing I did know, Penelope had given me plenty to think about.

Chapter Four – "No Regrets"

September 2007

To the outside observer, at forty-four, I had it all. I graduated at the top of my class from the University of Birmingham and was immediately accepted by Emery University Medical School.

Within four years of finishing my residency, I had paid off my student loans; and, two years later had opened my own practice.

At first I tried family practice, but I began to tire of it so, a few years back I decided to switch to urology. From a financial perspective it had been a good move. But even now there are times I miss it.

It did take long before my practice had been so successful; my investments so well placed that I could retire to a very comfortable lifestyle of travel and leisure and never have to worry about working again. But if I really did have it all, why was it that I was laying in my bedroom, under the dimmed lights above my bed, trying to cry myself to sleep again. Perhaps it was because for almost twenty years, I had lived alone with only a pet dog to keep me company?

Yes, I did have everything, everything that is except the one thing I wanted more than anything else in the world, a man to love me. Not because I'm some hideous hag. In fact, I'm been told I am actually quite attractive.

With my blonde hair and blue eyes, at 6'1" in height, people that remember seeing those old German War II era propaganda posters depicting the ideal Arian woman in movies might have thought me to be the full figured 'Amazon' that had posed for them.

Full figured or not, I was in good shape. But then it could be no other way. I eat right and workout regularly.

In fact, working-out is one of the few pleasures I have. I'm usually so tired when I'm done that I forget for a while how lonely I am.

Most of the women I know told me, "Vicky," that's my nickname, "you should have a baby. It will give your life meaning" but I had seen enough of delivery rooms to know that was not for me. No, I just don't think loneliness is a good enough reason to bring a child into this world. I do know that whatever gene it is that makes a woman a mother, I didn't seem to have it; and, in my mind, that effectively rules out adoption.

But the awful loneliness, no amount of sex ever seemed to make go away. And trust me, I tried. For a while, I was dating almost anyone who asked me out. I finally stopped after I had to literally beat one asshole off with 'The Club' I used to lock my steering wheel.

He had seemed like a pretty nice guy when he asked me out. When he we suggest we do something retro and go the old Starlight Six Drive Theater, I thought he might turn out to be an interesting date. It was interesting right up to the point he pulled out a bottle of cheap wine and asked me if I wanted a drink just before he downed half of it in one gulp. Then, he proceeded to summarily start trying to rip my clothes off.

I'm not sure if the synapse to his brain were firing properly before I hit him, but I'm sure from the number of stitches he required after his head met 'The Club' they were firing at a much slower rate because he seemed much more docile.

That soured me so much on dating that I just quit it entirely and began to focus totally on work. But work won't get you through those long lonely nights when all you want is a nice warm body next to you holding you while you sleep.

On a conscious level, I have always tried not to regret the decisions in my life that resulted in negative consequences. It just seemed to me it's like not appreciating all the good things came after the bad things but would not have happened without them. It's like drawing a line from point 'A' to point 'B' and then, after you decide you didn't like part of the line, erase it and wonder later why you can't get from point 'A' to 'B' again.

Having said that, there is one thing that happened in my life that I often wonder that if I could go back in time and do it all over again would I do the same thing.

When I think back to that fall in 1978, I try to recall the good things in the past. Like the time my boyfriend Lyle took on a part-time job so I would not have to worry about my half of the rent and could devote more time studying.

Shortly after starting a job at a pizza place, he started getting ill. The doctors just couldn't seem to put their finger on the problem. He was killing himself trying to go to school all day, work all afternoon and then study at night. When I begged him to quit the pizza job, he refused. I tried to tell him I would get another student loan but he said that if I did, he would drop out of school and never talk to me again.

Too this day, I still remember the feeling of horror when I received the call one Saturday from the Emergency Room telling me he had been taken there by ambulance.

Even after the doctors finally discovered a gallstone and removed his gallbladder, Lyle forced himself to go back to work with a bad postoperative infection. He must have loved me so much to push himself that way!

I knew he was obligated to work for his father to pay off his college education when he graduated. I knew he had no choice and could not come with me. In my heart, I knew that it was not tears of joy he was shedding when I opened the acceptance letter from Emory. Still, I walked away. And I have been miserable every day since! And, no amount of success, money or sex has ever made it go away.

I now know that fate only allows you so many chances at love and each day that goes by makes only serves to remind me that time is running out. I hope and pray I did not foolishly waste my only opportunity for love and fate is merciful enough to grant me just one more chance.

Chapter Five – "The Appointment"

It was almost six o'clock on a Friday afternoon when I pulled up to the Westling Hotel parking lot.

After checking in at the front desk, I went to my room on the 70^th floor, opened my suitcase, and decide to take a cool shower after the long hot drive.

Ten minutes later, as I stood there wrapped in a towel in front of my window enjoying the sparkling colors of downtown Atlanta lights as they danced on the glass, I noticed my own reflection in the glass.

There was a visible line on my 5'10" tall frame from the surgery scar. It had been before the days of laparoscopic surgery. It was a battle scar left over after the surgeon had a fight with my gallbladder back in college. Needless to say, my gall bladder didn't stand a chance as the surgeon had come to the fight with knives!

The potbellied, frumpy body I had back then was long gone now having been replaced by almost chiseled muscular body. It was the result of twenty-two years of practicing Ju Jitsu and Aikido and for the last three years Krav Maga.

The short curly red hair, freckles and pale skin had made me the object of more than one "Howdy Doody" joke when I was younger. As I stood there, for the first time in my life when I looked at my own reflection, I realized that I very much looked like a younger version of my father.

The thought caused my mind to drift back to the odd smile on his face when I told him I wanted to try an Atlanta route for a few months. For some reason I didn't understand at the time, he had that same smile when he called me into his office that Friday and handed me the new client list I was to have.

My stomach roaring like a lion in need of a feast made me realize that I had been so preoccupied with preparing for the trip I completely forgotten to eat lunch.

After dressing, I decided to grab my laptop bag so I could begin going over my new route during dinner.

The hotel is 73 stories high with the Moon Beam Restaurant located on one of its top three levels. The only way to get to the Moon Beam, other than taking the fire escape, was to go back down to the lobby and take a dedicated elevator there back up to the top.

Five minutes later, I stepped of the elevator feeling almost claustrophobic and was greeted by an over bubbly hostess.

After the hostess had seated me, a rather cute young waitress with somewhat large breasts for her size came to my table and took my order. I remember thinking as she walked away, 'I wonder how much those puppies cost her?'

I then opened my laptop bag and took out my route book in hopes that I might have time to familiarize myself with my new customer's locations before she came back with my meal.

When I opened it, my eyes were instantly drawn an entry on the first page that had been circled with a large pink highlighter. There was a sticky note attached to the page with my father's handwriting on it. It read, "Don't let her get away from you this time son!" and it was signed, "Dad." The name circled on the page was "Dr. Victoria Mercer, MD." I immediately understood that odd smile on his face!

That night, as I lay on my bed trying to find the rest of sleep, the last thoughts going through my mind just before I drifted into its embrace were of Victoria and how I might be received by her after all these years.

When I awaked the next morning, after I showered and did all the normal things one does in the morning to prepare for a workday, I called her office to arrange an appointment to see her.

I was told by the receptionist, "Dr. Mercer sees new vendor representatives on Thursday after 1:00 p.m. Would you like to schedule an appointment?"

Somewhat disappointed, I made an appointment for 4:30 p.m. that Thursday and then promptly went to the Mac Chuckles restaurant across the street for an all too unsavory breakfast of "Mac Something" with eggs. Afterward, I made a mental note to myself that two things would have to be first on my 'to-do' list after getting an apartment, finding a gym and somewhere healthier to eat.

I made a quick courtesy call upon the Atlanta office of my father's business and then proceeded upon my route.

The week went rather well. On Tuesday, I was extremely lucky and found a furnished studio apartment to rent from a woman whose son was working on a fishing boat in Alaska and wouldn't be back for three more months.

The next day I discovered there was even a gym nearby. The rates were not the best, but after almost four days of sitting in waiting rooms, over priced hotel food and cheap greasy fast food, I was glad to have some way to get rid of the toxins that had to be building up in my system.

With each hour day, I became more excited by the prospects of seeing Vicky once more until finally when Thursday arrived, I realized I could almost think of nothing else.

Having finished the rest of my scheduled route early that day, I could have tried to squeeze in one more customer but decided not to.

One thing I had learned is that you just can't count on a doctor's 'schedule'. Not that it's their fault, mind you. Between being on call for emergencies and patients showing up late, and walk-ins, its amazing they ever get anywhere on time. No, this day, I did not want to be late.

Despite being ahead of schedule with my route, the Atlanta traffic was so thick that I was almost late for my appointment anyway.

With five minutes to spare, I got out of my car and walked leisurely to towards the lobby entrance as the hot afternoon sun beat down on me. Despite the heat, I was lucky enough to reach the cool air-conditioned shelter of the lobby before I began to sweat.

The waiting room was packed like a sardine can with patients and after checking in with the receptionist, I found an empty seat and settled down for what I knew was sure to be a long wait.

Two hours and twenty-seven minutes later, when there were only two patients left, the receptionist came out and said to me consolingly, "I'm sorry Lyle, Dr. Mercer had an emergency and is running way behind schedule. We're running late and since it's already way past closing, she's going to need to reschedule you for next week. Since you've waited so long, I'll be glad to put you first on the list if you'd like?"

My heart sank but what could I do? After I told her that would be fine, she asked me to meet her at the reception window and she would add me in the schedule.

Five minutes later, disappointed, I headed out the door.

I was about to open the door when suddenly I heard the concerto voice of a young woman from behind me, "Lyle!" She said. "Lyle!" Once more. I turned just as she was catching up with me.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Mercer's nurse, Maggie. She says to tell you if you can wait about another twenty minutes that she will be able to see you today." Maggie looked at me expectantly, "What shall I tell her?"

"Tell her that will be fine, take all the time that she needs. I'm not going anywhere." I wondered if I should have said that last part as soon as had left my mouth.

The nurse smiled cheerfully and said, "Would you like me to have the receptionist bring you something to drink while you wait, a soda or juice perhaps?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you though." I told her.

"Well, if you change your mind, just tell Sharon, our receptionist, what you want and she'll take care of you. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got two patients waiting to be taken care of." And with that, she turned and hurriedly walked away. For some strange reason, she glanced back at me again and smiled as the door closed behind her.

I had the strangest feeling Maggie had been sizing me up for some reason the whole time we were talking.

The wait wasn't twenty minutes; it was thirty minutes. The last patient had gone to the back ten minutes after I had spoken with Sharon and I spent the next twenty minutes in the waiting room by myself. I guess it would be a gross understatement to say that I was anxious to see Vicky again and the wait seemed more like an eternity.

I had just started reading my third article from last month's issue of the Journal Of American Medicine when the door leading to the back was opened. Sharon stood there holding the door open for me as she said; "Dr. Mercer can see you now, if you'll just follow me please?"

I followed her around a corner to the left and down a long corridor. I noticed as we walked through the building that there seemed to be no one else present and assumed that everyone else had already left. We continued around another corner to the left and then turned left again to the door of an office.

When I walked into the office, there was a wall directly in front of the doorway at the far left end. Walking into the office proper, I noticed the presence of a couch on the right side wall of the room and it occurred to me that the function of the wall was to provide privacy.

"Please be seated, she'll be with you in just a moment." Sharon said in her concerto voice as she motioned to a chair in front of the large office desk in the center of the room. Without waiting for me to be seated, she turned and left the room leaving the door open behind her.

It couldn't have been more than a minute when I heard a familiar voice behind me say, "Sorry I'm running late, but there was an emergency and I …"

When I stood up to face her, Vicky stopped in mid-sentence. We both just stood there silently for several seconds and looked at each other.

Finally, Vicky was the first one to break the silence, "Well look at you! Aren't you the fit one?"

"And you're even more beautiful than ever." She really had become more beautiful with age.

She blushed and said, "Still the flatterer I see."

"Honesty is not flattery. I mean it! You really do look even more beautiful than I remember." I told her sincerely.

She laughed and said, "Well I happen to know it's a medical fact that men's eyes get worse the older they get."

We both laughed and sat down.

"So still no ring on your finger Lyle? That scared of the old ball and chain or did you try it and decided you didn't like it?" She asked inquisitively.

I had already noticed that Penelope had been right and Vicky also was not wearing a wedding ring. "No, not scared. And not divorced either. I just haven't met the right woman yet."

"You mean in all these years, you never found one woman you wanted to be your wife?" Vicky asked in astonishment.

I paused a second. Suddenly my chair seemed uncomfortable and I shifted in it as I answered her, "I thought I had once. But I stupidly let her slip away. I've been regretting it ever since."

Vicky sat there very quiet for several long seconds until the silence was broken by Sharon poking her head in the door and saying, "Everyone else is gone Vicky. Is there anything else you need me to do before I leave?"

"No, you go on and have a nice weekend. I'll set the alarm when I leave." Vicky said to her.

Sharon looked from Vicky to me and said, "Enjoy your weekend. You too Lyle."

"Same to you Sharon." I said to her.

Sharon turned and walked down the hall. A few seconds later I could hear the sound of what I assumed was the back door closing. It hit me then, for the first time since college, I was alone with Vicky.

After we talked about business for about half an hour, the discussion turned to old times. I asked her how she managed to stay in such good shape? She told me that she worked out regularly and asked me how often I worked out. I told her about my martial arts background. I felt comfortable with the things were going and I decided to ask her out. I was about to do so when the sound of someone clearing a throat came from behind us.