The Beguiled Gynaecologist

Moaning and squealing louder now, she put her left tit in her mouth and started sucking on it. He slid his finger deeper inside her vagina, reaching for the anterior fornix area and stimulating it. His other finger poked its way gently in her asshole a half-inch. Her moans and squeals soon turned into screams.

"I'm...gonna come," she sighed. "Oh!"

He pulled his finger out of her ass, sniffed it briefly, then grabbed a nearby bowl and put it under her cunt. She sprayed her come into it, screaming with each gush.

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked, admiring the goo in his bowl.

"Oh, yeah," she sighed, resting on her back on his desk with her legs still spread out wide. When she finally caught her breath a minute or so later, she got off the desk.

"Well, I've got just about every product--liquid or solid--that I can get out of your body, for either testing or, well, for admiring, anyway. So you can get dressed and go now, if you like."

"Oh, I think I'll stay naked with you for a while. How long can I hang out with you here?"

"As long as you like."

"OK, I guess I'll get dressed in an hour or so. I'll let you look at my body for a while."

"Oh, thanks."

She got on the floor on all fours, with her legs spread out and her butt pushed back so he could see her asshole and pussy. She crawled around the room while he sat on his chair and, massaging the bulge in his pants, enjoyed the view.

************

A week later, he had good news for her and for his loins. When he met her at her apartment, oddly, he was trying to hide a frown, though.

Her roommate, another stripper at Le Strip, answered the door, but was reluctant to let him in, because Wanda was wandering around the apartment naked.

She came near the door where her roommate kept the door only slightly ajar. "Oh, it's OK, Candy," Wanda said. "He's seen every inch of me, and he's a nice guy. Let 'im in."

Candy did, and Barry was able to smile in a less fake way to see Wanda's sensational body, exhibitionistically on display. She turned around for him so he could see every angle.

"Come in the bedroom with me," she said, already walking over there. "Help me pick out what I'll wear tonight." He followed her eagerly.

"I'll be right here in the living room if you need me," Candy called out to Wanda. "Just shout if there's a problem."

"Don't worry, Candy," Wanda said. "Barry's OK."

She had many different colours of bras and underwear laid out on her bed for him to pick from: black, white, pink, dark red, light, blue, light green, yellow, and light orange. Lace, thongs, see-through, all frilly and ornate. They didn't have to be edible panties: he'd have chewed them off her body anyway.

"Which do you like?" she asked as he gently felt her up, his one hand on her tit and the other on her crotch.

"The dark red ones," he panted, tickling her clit.

"OK, now let's look at my dresses in my closet." She showed him a similarly varied selection of colours: he chose a dark red evening gown that would hug her figure tightly. Spreading her legs and bending over, she reached for her matching high heels. He bent down and sniffed her exposed asshole and pussy, which were immaculate and fragrant smelling. Looking back up at him, she said, "No stink this time. Sorry, but if you eat me out tonight, I don't want you catching any germs and getting sick." She put the heels on.

Then they went into the bathroom. As she put on her whore-bright makeup, she allowed him to continue feeling her up, as long as he didn't jerk her arms and make her smudge her makeup. When she was all tarted up, they went back into the bedroom, she put on her clothes, and they left for a German restaurant in downtown Hamilton.

Waiting at their table for their Wiener Schnitzel, they sipped their wine and chatted.

"So, what made you become a stripper?" Barry asked. "I mean, I can't imagine a girl wanting to."

"Well, I'm dumb, for starters," Wanda said bluntly.

"You always put yourself down," he said. "You really shouldn't."

"No, really, I am," she insisted, as if it were OK. "Back in grade 12, there I was, 18 years old, a C student, with a month or so to go before graduation. I had no idea what I was going to do next. I could only imagine myself as a waitress, but I hate that kind of work. Another thing: in PE class, the boys were always sharking me."

"Excuse me: sharking?"

"You know, sharking--pulling my gym shorts down so everybody could see me in my underwear. My whole PE class--all 18 years old in body, but with the maturity of 6-year-olds--they would laugh and laugh at me while I stood there in a daze for a few seconds before I finally pulled my shorts up. That just added to my low self-esteem."

"Kids are cruel."

"Well, one day was really embarrassing, but it gave me an idea of what to do after graduating."

"What happened?"

"One guy--Jim Allen, a real asshole, I hate him--he pulled my gym shorts and underwear down...in front of all the guys in gym class. As always, I reacted slowly, 'cause I'm dumb, but I saw how all the guys were getting hot looking at my muff and ass. I finally pulled up my shorts and underwear, really embarrassed, but then I knew: I have a good body--I can be a stripper."

"And you make good money, too."

"Yeah, but I'm not getting any younger; I need to find a man."

He smiled sadly, remembering what was bothering him. "Yeah, we all need someone," he said.

Noticing his sad eyes, she asked, "You OK?"

"Oh, nothing; I'm just a little tired, I guess. I'll have a coffee in a minute."

Their food was served, and they began eating.

"Sometimes that guy Jim comes to Le Strip, and I have to get naked for him," she said. "He always acts like such a dick when I spread. He isn't like you; he's no gentleman. Whenever I'm crawling around nude on the stage, and he's ogling me and making rude remarks about my body, I always show off my asshole to him and say, 'Look in the mirror, Jim.' Usually, I only show my asshole to a guy I like enough to let him fuck my ass, but Jim's the one exception."

She flashes her asshole for me all the time, Barry thought, grinning lasciviously. It's a good thing I brought my lube along.

**************

After dinner, he drove her to his house. They went inside and he turned on the lights. She was impressed and awed by the beautiful furniture and interior design. He obviously made a lot of money.

"Want me to get naked?" she asked, unzipping her dress at the back.

"Of course," he said.

"This is a nice place," she said, her dress dropping to the floor. Facing him, she unclipped her bra. "It's really beautiful."

"Thanks," he said, ogling her red underwear. "As you are."

The bra came off with another wiggle of her tits before his widening eyes. He was rock hard in his pants. She giggled at his lustful reaction.

"It's a big place; do you have roommates?" She pulled down her panties, apparently not worried if a group of brothers or male roommates might come into the room, see her naked, and force her into a gang-bang.

"No, I wa-am m-married, w-with a daughter," he said with a lump in his throat and a frown.

As she kicked off her heels and kicked aside the panties, standing completely nude in front of him, she calmly asked, "Am I helping you cheat on your wife?"

"N-no, my wife l-left me, taking our daughter, a week ago."

"What did you do to make her leave you?" She walked up to him and put her hands on his chest.

He put his hands on her hips. "For the past two months, I've examined most of the strippers at Le Strip for STDs," he explained, fighting back tears. "My wife came to my clinic one day without saying she was coming. She suddenly surprised me when I was examining this one really hot-looking nude blonde, and the nurse wasn't there, as expected in such a professional environment. My wife got jealous and angry, but was also concerned when she saw the sadness and fear in the naked girl's eyes, and saw also the big, tough-looking bouncers waiting in the waiting area. Since she'd learned those strippers I was examining also double as prostitutes, she suspected I was involved in a mafia crime ring or something. Anyway, she left me...and I learned that, a few days ago, she and my daughter...died in a car accident." Barry broke down and cried.

"You poor man," Wanda said, getting a chair for him to sit on. When he did, she sat on his lap. "You need someone, to help you forget your loss." She began lap-dancing him. His dick got hard as he cried.

"What was...the big deal?" he sobbed and groaned in a mixture of grief and lust. "I usually...have only dull-looking, older women...to examine undressed. Those prostitutes...come to my clinic once...a week. I examine them...with no nurse, 'cause your boss...at Le Strip...likes me enough...to let me...enjoy seeing the girls. My new nurse...lets me see...the girls alone, I don't know why. And why...don't I see...you with them?"

"I'm no hooker." She got up and wrapped her tits around his face. He fingered her wet pussy and squeezed her left buttock. She put her knee on his chair, pushing it against his hard-on.

"Your boss told me to come to Le Strip the night I first saw you, because I called him on my cell-phone, saying I was depressed about my wife leaving me."

"So your meeting me was fate," Wanda said, pulling on his tie to make him stand up. "Where's your bedroom?"

"Come with me," Barry said, going with her up the stairs. "Apart from being...such beautiful people," he said, beginning to cry again, "my wife and daughter...were such smart people, worthy of my surname, though not of me." He sobbed louder.

Wanting him to forget about his family (because it was depressing her and ruining the mood), Wanda got on his bed on all fours, spreading her legs and pushing out her ass so her asshole and pussy were being happily advertised for him. Though getting horny at the sight, he also guiltily thought, Look in the mirror, Barry.

"My wife and I...could talk about...all kinds of...intellectually stimulating stuff." He unzipped his pants. "Politics, the arts, history, No more of that talk with her now. And all because...she didn't like me...examining whores. I can't help it...if I get a little turned on. But my wife...wanted to look into...your boss's business. If she'd just...stayed with me, they'd both still be here."

"But I wouldn't," Wanda said, annoyed. "We gonna fuck, or what?"

"Sorry." Barry pulled out his boner.

"I can't replace your wife's brains, but I bet I'll be a better lover."

"No need for condoms, either, unless you fucked around between your tests and now." He pushed the knob of his cock against her vaginal orifice.

"I didn't. Not even once."

"OK," he said, sliding his cock slowly in her wet pussy.

"Oh," she moaned. "That's more...like it. Ah!"

He slid all the way in with a grunt. He'd never bothered taking off his clothes; he hadn't even taken his shoes off. She squinted her eyes closed, with her mouth agape as she moaned and squealed at the feeling of his long, thick cock massaging her every vaginal wall. Her tits swayed back and forth as his thrusts shook her body. She reached back with her right hand and fingered her hard clitoris.

Admiring her clean asshole, he fingered it as he continued fucking her, gently pushing his finger inside an inch or two. She moaned louder, enjoying the stimulation of both holes now. As he slid his finger in and out, he got her asshole wider and wider.

She came, splashing her ejaculation all over his cock, balls, and pants. He was too horny to care. He pulled his still-hard cock out of her cunt; it was soaked with her come. Then he took the lube out of his pants pocket, got some on his finger, and lubed her anus and rectum thoroughly.

"Oh, yeah," she sighed. "Fuck my ass."

"I've wanted to do this...all my life," he panted. He pushed the tip of his dick against the gaping orifice and gently coaxed it in. When he got it in about two inches, he marvelled at the amazing sensation of her tight anal ring hugging and squeezing his cock. He pushed in further, not believing a hot girl like Wanda was actually letting him do this! She just looked back at him and lewdly smiled.

When he got his cock all the way in, he let out a loud grunt. Then he started pumping her ass, moaning and groaning with her, the creaking of the bed going in rhythm to the fucking. He reached over and played with her hanging boobs, while she reached back with her hand and fingered her pussy, sliding her long finger in and rubbing it against her G-spot.

After several more minutes of ass-fucking, he pulled his cock out; she, without even needing to be asked, turned around on the bed, facing him. He stood up, and she, looking up in his eyes, took his cock in her mouth.

Grinning lasciviously up at him as she kissed and licked the tip, she then took it an inch or two inside her mouth. Her tongue licked and flickered against the underside of his cock, running along his bulging corpus spongiosum. She took his balls in her hand and gently shook them, her fingers tickling the scrotum.

"I'm gonna...blow my load," he moaned. "Oh!"

She pulled his cock out of her mouth and kept it pointed at her face while always looking up in his eyes with a smile. He sprayed his ejaculation all over her eyes, nose, cheeks, lips, and chin. She just received it all with a smile. He looked down at her and smiled back.

Later, she went into the washroom and washed the come off her face. After she dried her face off with a towel, she was surprised to notice the glass with her urine in it, the vial with her stool sample, another glass with her come in it, and even a vial with her blood! She knew it all was hers because each container had the name 'Wanda' written on it. Man, what a weirdo, she thought. Still, he has money, and that's all that matters.

Barry tried to avoid looking at the bedside table photos of his wife and daughter as he took his shoes off. After undressing, he put his soiled pants in the laundry basket, and climbed into bed in just his boxer shorts. She returned and got into bed with him. They lay there and cuddled.

"There," she purred, running her fingers along his chest and tickling his nipples and chest hair. "Didn't that make you feel better?"

"Yeah, it did," he said, smiling and enjoying the touch of her fingers. "I just wish I could forget about what happened to my family. I feel guilty having fun with you so soon after losing them."

"Life is for the living," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "Time heals all wounds. You'll forget about them, and move on." Indeed, she hoped he would move on...and let her move in.

*************

A year later, he married her.

Sitting at home watching TV while he was working at the clinic, Wanda reflected on her catching of Barry.

I guess I'm not so dumb after all, she thought. After I complained about not ever finding a rich guy to marry, my brother, one of the bouncers in Le Strip, suggested to my old boss that I replace Barry's wife last year. We all knew he liked big-titted blondes who were into anal, since Barry let the whores he examined know what he was into sexually, always preferring blondes with big tits and sticking rectal thermometers in their asses. My old boss had Barry go to Le Strip, had him sit up at perverts' row, and had me go on stage at just that time. It was planned to perfection.

When we met, I made up that bullshit story that I might have caught an STD, so I could be naked around him more, and seduce him. When Barry's wife was looking into my old boss's business, she must've learned that the stripper/prostitutes were slaves, victims of human trafficking. My boss's guys had to kill her and Barry's daughter, to silence them. I'm sorry about that, but if they were allowed to live, Le Strip would've been closed, I'd have been out of a job, and my brother would've been in jail. Those thugs may have killed two people, making it look like a car accident, but they also killed Jim Allen for trying to rape me once, so they're not all bad. Life sucks: people get hurt, humiliated, killed. You can't stop that.

Anyway, I'm married to Barry now, and my name isn't Wanda Dietz anymore: no more assholes like Jim calling me 'ditzy Dietz'. I'm Wanda Smart, I don't strip anymore, and I'm the respected wife of a doctor. I made a smart decision in getting Barry to marry me, and I'm worthy of his surname. Life is good.