Paging Doctor Marcus: Episode 01

WARNING:

The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upset you, or you are offended by subjects of a sexual nature - do not read any further!

This story is for entertainment only. It contains adult oriented material. This is a work of fiction. The acts and characters contained within are figments of my imagination and have no basis in fact. I do not practice, advocate, condone or encourage acts portrayed here. The characters in the story are entirely fictional. You need to believe that all of the characters are over the age of eighteen.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached.

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Every man has the fantasy at least once in his life of being a doctor, getting to undress and examine a young woman. To have her think of him as an authority figure, someone whose orders are to be obeyed.

Mr. Marcus, fresh from his second portrayal as Dr. Fleischmann, recalls the first time he got to "play doctor." I hope that the mental review doesn't distract him while he's driving home. He might rear-end somebody.

The episode in question harkens back to daughter Annie's high school senior year, at the fateful volleyball game when Mr. Marcus gave Lore a big hug (that eventually led to "One For Good Luck"). Whose ball is it, anyway?

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Training C(r)amp

The streets around Dr. Crumholtz's office were a parking lot. Roll forward two feet and stop, over and over. Perhaps an accident, or maybe just the normal rush hour traffic jam. I didn't know for sure, since this wasn't my usual stomping or driving grounds near dinnertime.

I'd just completed my second impersonation of Dr. Fleischmann, the breast enlargement/reduction specialist. The first time had been in his office, with a prospective patient. This time, it was with Miss Perfect Tits, Case number C-19871114-002, also known as Norma, Inga's best friend. By manipulating Inga's mother, Dr. Crumholtz, Norma got precisely what she wanted. Okay, I'll admit it. I wasn't disappointed either. Getting my hands on her tits was a dream come true, and fucking her, on Dr. Crumholtz's desk? Well, that was unbelievable. And for Dr. Crumholtz to apologize to me afterwards? This would have been a dream, except the exhaust fumes wafting in through the dashboard vents were all too real.

Maybe it was getting stuck next to the sporting goods store with lycra-wearing female mannequins in the window, or the dark-haired young woman who jaywalked right in front of my car, but the memories of my first opportunity to play doctor, as a grown-up, came rushing back. It wasn't that long ago, during Annie's senior year. Annie had no idea she was setting me up.

It was the last volleyball game of the year for the Morse Dots. Annie attended Samuel Morse High School. The boys' teams were all called The Dashes; the girls' teams The Dots. The phallic and clitoral analogies had long since played out in my mind. This was Annie's last chance to play in a league game, having been a season-long benchwarmer. This game mattered, since it was against the league champs, the Bolton Bumpers, an undefeated squad.

Annie came home, all excited. Her teammate Lore had convinced Coach Topinski to let Annie play in their last game.

"You're going to come, aren't you?" Annie pleaded. "Wait. I got you something."

Annie returned to the kitchen with a Morse High jacket. "See, your name is on the front."

Sure enough, in a vertical stack, six groups of dots and dashes spelled my first name. Or my last name. I didn't know the code. "Okay, I'll shift my schedule around -"

Annie jumped at me and threw her arms around my neck. "Thank you, Daddy."

Annie's body was soft and warm. This was before Annie and her girlfriends had tricked me into having sex with her (see "Betty Boop Birthday"). We both ignored the incidental contact of our groins. Well, I mostly ignored it.

----

On game day, I parked in the school visitor lot and strolled into the gym way early. The teams hadn't assembled on the floor yet. However, two young ladies in opponent's colors were practicing defensive digs. One, a tall blonde, whacked the ball at her teammate, a dark haired beauty, short, with modest chest. They repeated the slamming, with Miss Dark Hair diving or squatting to field every one. I shook my head. With a back-row defender like Miss Dark Hair, the Morse Dots had little chance for a victory.

Noise, perhaps an argument, caught my attention in the opposite corner. Two women, each obviously the coach of their respective teams, were in the middle of a conversation with the referee in obligatory striped shirt. Annie ran up near them from the locker room entrance, listened briefly, and then charged across the gym floor and up the wood risers to where I sat.

"They're going to cancel the game," she whined. "Our trainer, Dr. Ruder got called away for some emergency. The game can't go on unless there's a trainer and as home team, it's our turn to provide one."

Annie had spoken well of Dr. Max Ruder. Maxine, actually. Annie had twisted ankles and bruised, well, almost everything, in her attempts to be a committed player. "That's too bad. I wish there was something I could do."

Annie's face brightened. Her grin was wide and troubling. Before I could grab her arm, she was down the steps and across the floor to the three adult women. Annie said something that stopped their conversation, and then she pointed in my direction. They all stared, so I smiled and waved. Their discussion ended with smiles and handshakes all around. Annie's Coach Topinski patted Annie on the head.

Annie came back, not quite as fast as she'd left. "The match is on!" she shouted.

"How come? I thought you had to provide a trainer. Is Dr. Max back?"

Annie struck her shy pose, arms behind her back. This pushed her breasts forward in an unintentionally provocative way. "I told coach that you have experience as a trainer."

"What?" Maybe I'd seen a few naked bodies up close and personal, but trainer?

"No big deal, Daddy. The only thing that happens is pulled muscles or sprains. Just apply alternating cold and hot compresses. Anything more major, call a paramedic. The trainers office is up there." She pointed to an enclosed loft space with windows looking down onto the court. "I've got to join the team pre-game. I love you." She hugged me, pressing her chest against my shoulder. "Wish us luck." I got a slobbery kiss that was half mouth, half cheek.

I prayed that the game would proceed with no injuries, that Annie would play well, and that The Dots would win.

The two Bumpers players were still practicing. Annie walked in a curved path, coming close to them. Miss Dark Hair glanced at my daughter, who thumbed her nose at her opponent. The tall blonde whipped her arm. Like a bullet, the ball smacked into the dark-haired girl's stomach with a "whap." Miss Dark Hair went down and curled into fetal position. I could hear the moans of pain across the gym.

The Bumpers' coach ran out to her injured player. She looked at Annie, who struck her innocent expression. The Bumpers coach waved me over. What did she want from me? Shit! I'm supposed to be the trainer. I half-jogged over to the coach and two players.

"Well, what are you standing there for?" asked the Bumpers coach. "Help her up."

"Not until I find out what's wrong. It might be improper to move her." I'd heard such things on TV, and I figured they'd be credible even if I wasn't. "What happened?" I asked.

"You saw! That blonde twerp distracted me on purpose." Miss Dark Hair was breathing hard.

"You've just got the wind knocked out of you," I said with authority. "You'll be fine."

"I don't care," said Coach Bumpers. "Take her to your office and make sure that's all that's wrong. If she's okay, get her back before the game starts. I don't want to file a protest, that you disqualified my best player on some trumped up medical diagnosis."

What a bitch! If I wanted The Dots to win before, now I wanted the Bumpers to lose, and lose big.

Her blonde teammate helped her up, she and I on each side of Miss Dark Hair. We got two steps before Coach Bitch was hollering. "Where do you think you're going, Stephanie?" The blonde froze. "The trainer can handle Maggie. You stay here and warm up with the team." From the corner of my eye, I saw both teams at opposite gym entrances, prepared to take the field of battle.

The lone human crutch, I wrapped my arm around Maggie. Crossing the gym floor was easy compared to assisting her up the stairs to the training room. My hand, on the far side of her torso, kept slipping up. The result was a series of strokes of my hand along side her breast. Completely unintentional, I told myself. Her hand was on my waist, fingers tucked into my belt.

A single room occupied the space at the top of the stairs. We paused outside to read the sign, "Doctor Max Ruder."

Maggie was still taking deliberate breaths, deep ones. Her breasts rose with each inhale. "My dad's a plumber."

What did that have to do with me, her injury, or anything? "That's nice."

I helped Maggie into Max's office and up onto the examining table, one hand under each armpit. "Why don't you lie down? Now, where does it hurt?"

Maggie pulled her shirt up and pointed to a spot low on her abdomen, below her belly button. "Here, just above my females."

My palms were damp and clammy. Was I supposed to touch her there?

"Well? Examine me. Coach doesn't like to kept waiting," she said. "Besides, you've seen female parts before."

She believed I'd administered The Dots squad. Gently, I sampled her lower belly with my fingertips.

Maggie giggled. "What are you doing? Don't tickle. Press harder. The pain is deeper, like it's inside me." She pressed my hand into her flesh, sliding lower in the process, under the elastic waistband. "My trainer massages my bruises."

I pulled my hand off. "How about a heat pack, to relax your muscles?" I fumbled through Dr. Ruder's cabinets, looking for one. Finally, in a drawer, hot and cold packs. I removed one of each. Annie had said alternating. I read the directions and squished the hot pack. It got warm immediately. I placed it on Maggie's lower stomach.

"I don't feel anything," she said. Without hesitation, she lifted her hips, grunted, and slid her shorts and panties to her knees. "There, now you've got access."

No shit! Her pubic area was raised, with dark curly hair running between her thighs. I slid the hot pack onto her naked skin.

"Ouch! What are you trying to do, burn me? Get a towel."

I felt completely incompetent. I snatched a towel from a stack on Dr. Ruder's side table and laid it across Maggie's stomach before replacing the hot pack.

"Oooh, much better." Maggie took a cleansing breath. Her legs relaxed, separating. Oh oh! A hint of flesh peeked out from her dark bush.

"Maybe if you massage me," Maggie suggested. "That's what the other trainers did."

Other trainers? "Have you had this before?" The old punch line, 'Well, you've got it again' flashed into my brain. "I mean, is this a recurring injury?" Perhaps this was more serious than I could handle.

"Not often, just sometimes. Digging means you have to be quick. I know where I need to be to get the ball, in my head. Sometimes I can't get my body there. Know what I mean?"

I nodded, having no concept of Maggie's mental or athletic process.

"It's dripping." Maggie picked up the hot pack.

I took it from her. The bag was hot but dry. "No its not."

"Not the bag. My females." She slid the towel off and lifted her knees, spreading her thighs in the process.

Sure enough, her pink pussy lips, now on full display, glistened with moisture.

"Has this happened before?" I asked. Like in the back seat of your boyfriend's car?

She shook her head. "No, and it aches. Maybe you should massage me, down there."

What was with her and massage? Deliberately trying to get my hands near or on her privates?

"Come on already," she almost barked. "I don't want to miss the game."

I glanced down at the gym floor. The teams were still in stretching and warm-ups. "Maybe I should switch to the cold pack."

Maggie rose upon her elbows. "The hell you will! If I cool down, I'll get an even worse cramp. You're trying to mess me up so The Dots win, aren't you?"

'No, I'm not." Although the idea of Annie playing in the only Bumpers' loss was attractive. "All right." I stood beside her and rubbed her stomach.

"Lower," she directed.

I dipped lower, ruffling her pubic hair with each circular motion.

"That's good. Don't stop. I'm feeling better."

That's when I felt it - Maggie's hand on my crotch. Now she knew how I was feeling. Horny.

"Oh my God! Did I do that?" she asked. The coy demeanor was phony, as she ran her fingers the length of my erection. "Do you know why my females got all wet?"

I swallowed hard. "No."

She scooted to the end of the exam table, knees wide. "Massage me here." She pointed to her thighs. I came around to the end and placed my hands on her knees. "Up and back. That's it. All the way up." Each time my fingertips brushed her pussy lips, she lifted her hips. "Check me, inside."

Decision time. Maggie was asking for a finger fuck. At least, that's what I thought. Okay, she's obviously a willing subject; maybe if I get her off, she'll relax and rejoin her team. I placed one finger at the entrance and slid it in.

"Ooh. That's right. In and out. Hmmm. How about two?" she asked.

Per her request, I doubled my penetration. Her hips were bucking against my hand, taking my fingers as deep as they could go. "How's that?" I rubbed my thumb against where I imagined her clit would be. That only increased her humping.

Then she stopped, my fingers still inside. Her expression was serious, her voice insistent. "You need to check me deeper." Her hand returned to my dick, which was still hard in my pants. "With this."

I stepped back, removing my fingers. Her pussy was open, her cunt lips pulsing. "No way! Now get dressed. You can join your teammates."

"Okay, but I'll be telling Coach Vassili how you molested me. They'll throw you in jail with the other pervert doctors."

Damn! This was entrapment. Even worse, I wasn't a trainer! No one would believe my side of the story: that she voluntarily stripped and demanded that I finger fuck her. Nope. Nobody.

"And how can I know that you won't rat me out?" I asked. "I could do what you ask and still end up in jail."

"Just check with the other trainers around the league," she said. "They'll confirm I'm tight lipped." She ran her hands down her thighs and spread her pussy open.

So, Maggie had done this before, with others? I was just the next trainer to be compromised? What the hell? I unbuckled and let my pants fall, then slid my jockeys down.

Maggie stared. "God! That's the biggest one I've ever seen. Come closer."

The exam table had a step on the end. I climbed up, my dick poised above her belly.

"Go ahead, put it in," she said.

"You do it."

Maggie reached up and guided my prick to her waiting pussy. She rubbed the head up and down, as if searching for the entrance. With a 'pop,' the tip penetrated her entrance.

Maggie's voice turned from demanding to childlike. "Take it slow, now. I've never had one this big."

"So, what do you do?" I asked. "Fake some injury, and then get the opposing team's trainer in a compromising position?" I was halfway in, and making progress towards full depth. It was slow going, she was go tight.

"Oh, God! This is terrific! What? Oh yeah, kind of like that. Doesn't matter, male or female. The men are happy to fuck, and the women enjoy eating me."

I wondered if she'd have gotten Dr. Maxine to perform on her.

"You're all the way in?" she asked. "God, I never thought I'd take it all. So, what are you waiting for?"

I guessed that she meant fucking, but she needed to be explicit. "What do you want from me now?"

"Fuck me, for cripe's sake!"

I started humping, in and out.

Maggie held onto my hips. "So, how many people make fun of your name?" she asked.

Marcus? Mucus? Nobody.

"You know," she continued. "Ruder. Roto Ruder. Roto Rooter?"

I ignored her question. I was too interested in the fucking. She was good, all right. On every thrust, her hips came up to meet mine. Our pubic bones were thumping against each other.

Maggie moaned as we continued. "I can't wait to get down there and smash those Dots."

The game! Damn, I was fucking the best defender on the Bumpers, and she was badmouthing my daughter's team. In the only game Annie would play this season! I picked up the pace, assaulting her pussy with my dick. I'd screw her so hard, she wouldn't be able to stand up, let alone dig on the back row.

"Oh God! What are you doing? Slow down!"

"Like you said, I'm Dr. Roto Rooter. I'm just cleaning you out, like you asked." The fucking became frenetic. I'd never pummeled a woman with my penis before.

"I can't take any more!" Maggie cried.

"Should I stop?" I asked, maintaining my pace.

She was silent for a moment, biting her lip. "Oh, you Roto Ruder! Give it to me. Fuck me with your big dick!"

What did she think I'd been doing, all this time? Cheers erupted from the gym below. Damn, the game had probably started. I slowed my pace just enough to restore feeling in the tip of my dick. Then, a series of short thrusts, at the very edge of her pussy. Maggie's breath became panting, and her cunt muscles tightened. Just as I spurted, she pulled me all the way back in by my hips.

I stepped back, exhausted. "You're fit to play." Cum dripped from Maggie's cunt. "Your team is waiting."

Maggie lifted herself slowly from horizontal. She wobbled as she got down and reached for her panties and shorts. "God, that was awesome!" She reinstalled the elastic band that held her ponytail, quivvered, and headed out the door. I followed. She staggered down the steps. At the bottom we parted company, her to her side of the gym, me back to the bleachers. I looked for Annie on the bench, but she was gone. Damn, she was in the game, in the back row.

Maggie's coach greeted her before she got to the bench. It looked like Coach Vassili was concerned about her player, but Maggie patted Vassili's back and took her place on the bench. Teammates crowded around Maggie, who sat silent with a broad smile.

At the next change of possession, Coach Vassili put Maggie in. Of all things, Annie was serving. Just like she'd practiced, Annie gripped the ball, focused, tossed the ball, then jumped, smashing the ball over the net. Since when did Annie have a jump serve? It flew towards Maggie's left. Maggie moved in slow motion as the ball bounced fair, out of Maggie's reach. The Dots bench exploded with cheers, joined by all of the home team fans.

Annie scored a couple of points in a row off Maggie, but then served out of bounds. Coach Topinski kept her in the rotation. By the third game, Maggie had regained most of her mobility. That's youth for you - they recover quickly.

Despite a magnificent effort by The Dots, The Bumpers won. But the results were a lot closer than anyone in the league could have imagined. The Bumpers went undefeated, but The Dots took their effort as a victory in the face of an impossible opponent.

And me? I'd had another intimate encounter with a young woman. Why was this happening to me, and so often?

Honking startled me. Traffic was moving. My stomach growled. Dinner was waiting.

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An Original H M Tale

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