A Baby for Tina

"Oh, Brad..." she cooed, lightly stroking his face with her hand.

"Don't you mean 'Oh, Tim'?" he grinned down at her.

She looked at him with her warmest, most loving smile, the one that up until six months ago, she had reserved for Tim alone, and had not given to anyone else since.

"No," she said softly.

"I'm getting close," he warned.

She squeezed him tightly with her arms as if she was trying to physically merge their bodies together, and dug her heels into his buttocks. "I'm already there," she whispered hotly in his ear. "I'm just waiting for you, lover."

His breathing changed and his pace did, too, becoming slower but deeper and more forceful as she cheered him on. "Give it to me deep. Oh, it feels so good, baby..."

"Tina, I want to fuck you all night long," he groaned.

"Sounds good to me," she cooed. "I don't have any plans, and I can't think of anything I'd rather do. Next round, you can fuck me in the ass if you like."

That did it. Brad had never done anal before, though like a lot of men, it was a long-held fantasy of his. He drove into her one final time and froze as he felt his cock spasm inside of her. As his orgasm began, she mentally gave herself permission to cum as well.

She arched her back into him, impaling herself deeper on his cock as he pushed as deep as possible into her at the same time. She could feel his cock spasming inside her, as his cock filled his condom with hot cum. Once, twice, three times he squirted inside of her, and a part of her felt deprived because of the condom he wore. She wanted him to make her pregnant, that was true, but that wasn't the reason she wished he was filling her pussy with his cum. After all, it was entirely the wrong time of the month; it would be nearly impossible for her to get pregnant this night, even if he agreed to do so. No, that night she wanted his cum for a different reason: except for Tim, she had never felt so close to any man as what she felt in that moment about Brad, and she wanted him to "mark" her as his own. She wasn't his, of course. She was sure that he didn't want her, and truth be told, she wasn't entirely sure she wanted him, either. Not in the long-term, anyway. But at least for this night, there was nothing she wanted more than to be his, and for him to claim her as his own.

They both relaxed as their orgasms subsided, and he remained on top of her for a good fifteen minutes or more. He was in no hurry to dismount her, and she was certainly in no hurry for him to do so, either. She had felt so alone and unwanted since Tim had died. Now, for a few hours at least, she wasn't alone, and she was wanted. Even better, she was wanted by a man who had just proved himself to be an incredible lover. If he wanted to stay on top of her all night, that was more than okay with her. Eventually, though, he did roll off of her, though to her delighted surprise, he continued to hold her and kept her nestled right beside him.

"That was fun," he breathed.

"'Fun' doesn't begin to describe it," she purred. "I don't believe I've ever had sex like that in my entire life. I know you probably think I'm just saying that, but I'm not. It's the truth, I swear. Especially when you ate my pussy. I'd ask how you learned that, but I'm not sure I want to know."

"It's nothing bad," he chuckled, but didn't elaborate. "By the way, I just have to tell you, you have very sexy legs. I'm sure Tim told you that all the time, and he was right."

"Well, thank you," she beamed. "And yes, Tim liked my legs very much. My feet not so much, but he did like my legs."

"Huh?"

She looked at him, surprised. "Surely you knew Tim was a leg man. But his fondness for the female leg ended at the ankle." She rolled her eyes. "He gave me such a hard time about my feet, telling me how much he didn't like them, that it's a wonder I ever took my shoes off. You obviously don't have that silly hang-up, I'm happy to say."

"I knew Tim was a leg man. I didn't know about the rest of it. We may have been twins, but honestly, I think you'll find we weren't all that much alike. Dad used to say I was like a knife or a scalpel, and Tim was a battering ram," he laughed.

"Really? In what way?"

"You know what Tim's philosophy was: there wasn't a problem anywhere in the world that couldn't be solved with a big enough hammer. You couldn't find a nicer, kinder person than my brother, and he wouldn't hurt a fly. But his approach to any problem, no matter what it was, was brute force, either physically or figuratively. I know I'm not telling you anything you don't know. He was a sweet guy, but I don't think Tim even knew the meaning of words like 'tact' or 'diplomacy'. He didn't just step on people's toes; he rolled over them with a steamroller! What was sad, most of the time he didn't even know he was doing it. Tim had pretty thick skin, and I think he forgot that other people don't necessarily have the same thick skin he did.

"Me, on the other hand, I'm more judicious in my approach to things. Yeah, there are some times when the only thing that will solve a problem is a twenty-pound sledgehammer. Take firefighting, for instance: if your house is on fire and you and your kids are trapped inside, you want a big bruiser like Tim, who'll make his own entryway, thank you very much, toss one kid over one shoulder, another kid over the other, and grab you by the waistband of your jeans and carry you out of there like a 12-pack of beer. At the same time, there are a lot of times when you get better results by being tactful and approaching a problem more, dare I say, intelligently."

"Sort of like a carrot and stick approach: you're the carrot, and he was the stick," Tina nodded, listening.

"Exactly. Let me use an illustration I remember our Dad using one time when we were growing up. Let's say you've got a room with a locked, sturdy door. There's a million dollars inside and it's yours. All you have to do is unlock the door and get it. The problem is, there's no key.

"First thing Tim's going to do is get a sledgehammer, and turn the door into kindling. If that doesn't work, he'll knock a hole in the wall and get in that way. Tim's solution is quick, it's guaranteed to work, but then you've got a destroyed door or a big hole in the wall. Knowing Tim, probably both. Me, I'm going to call a locksmith, or try to take the door off the hinges somehow, or try to find another way inside. I'm only going to get the sledgehammer after everything else has failed." By the time he finished the story, Tina was laughing softly.

"You nailed him to a tee!" she laughed. "Sweet, kind to a fault, loveable as a giant teddy bear, but with skin as thick as a banana peel, and his approach to things could be somewhat over the top. It reminds me of a couple of years ago. We were entertaining a neighborhood couple, and in conversation, Tim describes himself as a 'take the bull by the horns' type of guy. The neighbor laughs and says that Tim wouldn't just take the bull by the horns, he'd probably punch the poor thing in the nose and toss it on the barbecue grill for dinner!" Tina and Brad both had a good laugh.

"Tim was a smart guy. I mean really smart. A lot smarter than people gave him credit for. But he did tend toward the extreme. He didn't believe in half measures; it was all or nothing." She heaved a heavy sigh. "Sometimes I wonder if that's what got him killed. I can't help but wonder if maybe they pulled the plug and signaled a retreat, and maybe Tim was just too goddamn stubborn to go. In twelve years together, I never saw Tim get in a fight with anyone, but I also know he wasn't the sort to back down from a fight, either. I can picture him refusing to back down from a fight with that fire and losing his life as a result."

The conversation moved on to other topics. Tina removed her stockings and garter belt, and both stayed nude for the rest of the evening. After an hour or so, they decided they were both a little hungry, so Tina ordered some snacks from room service while Brad went to the bathroom. There were robes for the both of them, but when the room service was delivered, Tina chose to hide in the bathroom.

"Is he gone?" she asked, opening the door a half inch and peeking out.

"No," Brad grinned. "I told him you'd be out soon, so I invited him to have a seat and wait for you."

"Ha, very funny." She opened the door and strode out, naked as the day she was born. She pretended to look all around the room. "So, where is he?" she asked, feigning disappointment.

They made themselves comfortable on the bed. She had ordered a plate of stuffed mushrooms, and a tray of various fruits, along with a bowl of chocolate for dipping. The food tasted good after what they had done barely an hour ago.

"You know," she snickered, "when Tim and I stayed in hotels for whatever reason, we ordered room service a lot. Difference was, Tim was the one who hid in the bathroom, while I let the guy in and signed for the tray. Except I usually didn't bother with a robe."

"Oh, really?" Brad grinned. "So, why didn't you do it this time?"

"You," she answered simply, giving him a flirtatious smile. "I was afraid it would bother you, and I didn't want to hurt your feelings."

"Wouldn't have bothered me any. I'm a little surprised that Tim never said anything, though."

"Are you kidding?" she snorted. "He encouraged me to. It was a big turn-on for us both. Only thing was, Tim had to hide in the bathroom. If he was standing or sitting there, the room service guy was always on his very best behavior for fear that Tim would knock his block off. With Tim supposedly in the shower, they were more willing to let their eyes roam a little."

"Did you ever have a problem with anyone?"

"Once or twice. We had a prearranged code phrase: if anything got out of hand, all I had to do was ask Tim if my perfume was in the bathroom. If he heard that, he knew I wanted him to just simply walk out of the bathroom and say 'hi' to the nice young man. And that's exactly what he'd do: come out, say a friendly hello, and shake his hand. It tended to have a very calming effect," she giggled.

"So, how did you define what 'getting out of hand' meant?"

"They could look all they liked, and even get a feel, as long as they weren't too blatant about it. A very light brush of my ass or breasts, I'd ignore and pretend it was an accident. Anything more than that, no. That's where the limit was."

"Well, you are a very beautiful woman," Brad smiled. "You definitely made some young man's day every time you did that, and probably his week, month, and year, too. I hope my brother knew how lucky he was to have you. Me, I know I'm using up a whole lifetime's worth of good luck, just to be here with you right now. But you know what? Even at that, I'm getting a great deal."

"Aww," she blushed. "You're sweet." She leaned across the tray and kissed him on the lips.

They went back to eating. He watched as she ate a few grapes, a strawberry, and a chunk of pineapple. In each and every case, the fruit went nowhere near the little bowl of chocolate on its way to her mouth.

"Don't you like the chocolate?" he asked.

"I like it just fine," she smiled. "I'm just very selective about what I put chocolate on. Besides, what's in that bowl right there isn't chocolate. It's finger paint."

"Is that right?"

"Uh huh," she nodded playfully. "Why not you move the tray over out of the way, and I'll prove it."

He eagerly carried the room service tray to a corner and set it down, then hurried back to the bed. She instructed him to lie flat on his back.

She dipped the tip of her finger in the chocolate and covered his nipples, then immediately licked it off. She did the same thing on various parts of his torso and neck, making swipes here and there with her fingers, and then torturously cleaning up the mess with her tongue. After she did it several times, Brad announced that it was his turn, and told her to lie on her back.

"I took Anatomy as a Science elective back in high school," he said. "Of course, that was a long time ago, and unlike you, I really haven't had a whole lot of opportunity to use what I learned. Sometimes I wonder how much of it I recall, so how about we play a little game and see how much I remember?"

"Hmm," she smiled. "Sounds like fun."

He used his finger to spread a horizontal line of chocolate just below her shoulders. "We'll start with an easy one. This is called the, um, collarbone, right?" She nodded. "Also known as the..."

"Clavi -- oh!" As she started to answer, he slowly dragged his tongue along the line, causing goose bumps to pop up all over the area. "The, um...clavicle."

"Very good, Doctor!" he praised her. "But you seemed to have a little problem recalling the proper name. Is everything alright?" He made another slow pass across her body, stimulating the sensitive nerves in the area.

"F-fine," she stammered. "Just feeling a little, uh, bit distracted right now."

"Nothing serious, I hope?" he feigned concern. "Because we have a long way to go in this game."

"Could be..." She groaned pleasurably as he smeared chocolate on first one nipple and then the other and licked it off. As soon as the chocolate was cleared off, her nipples stood at erect attention. "Could be serious."

He slowly moved down her body, doing the same thing to her breastbone, several ribs, her navel, and pointing out various landmarks on her nude torso, such as her liver, lungs, and appendix, marking each one with the warm chocolate, before cleaning it off with his tongue. When he got to her waist, he paused and asked for a progress report.

"So, how am I doing so far, Doc?" he grinned.

"Extremely well," she said, shuddering involuntarily as his fingers stimulated an especially sensitive area. "You haven't missed one yet." He encircled her navel with his tongue, just barely touching it to her skin.

"I...I must say, your knowledge of the human nervous system is breathtaking." As if to prove her point, he probed her navel with the tip of his tongue, causing her to gasp loudly.

"Thank you. Now we get to my favorite part of the body." He moved down over her crotch, letting her feel the heat from his hot breath on her vulva, barely an inch away. But when he kept on going without so much as a pause, she whined. He moved to her ankle, and started up from there.

"Let's see...tibia, fibula, knee, patella, femur..." She was practically beside herself as he moved up her leg. His knowledge of the nervous system was encyclopedic. Nerve junctures and pressure points that she would have had to look and possibly search for, he found instantly and with unerring precision. And once he found them, he seemed to know exactly how to exploit each and every one to maximum effect.

"Now, I can recall our teacher saying that the inner thigh is extremely sensitive, particularly for women. But just between you and me, I don't think she knew what she was talking about. If she was right, then if I did something like this..." He nibbled on one particular spot on her inner thigh, a few inches from her pussy. Her gasp was nearly a scream as her body nearly lifted off the bed. "...you'd practically jump out of your skin. Now, I ask you: isn't that the silliest thing you ever heard?"

"Sh-shocking." Her brain screamed for information. Who or what was this man? It was as though he had a roadmap of every single one of her erogenous zones. Oh, God, what an incredibly skilled lover this man was turning out to be!

"Now, I would like to ask a favor of you."

"Anything," she breathed.

"I want you to masturbate, while I watch. I want you to show me how you pleasure yourself so that I will know how best to pleasure you. Will you do that for me?"

She nodded, dazed. As recently as fifteen minutes earlier, she might have said no to a request like that. Masturbation was such a private thing for her, as it is for most people. But now, she was more than willing to give him anything he wanted.

She stroked her inner thighs and traced the outline of her labia her finger, then spread herself open to give him a view of the inside of her vulva. She played lightly with her clit, alternating between rubbing it alone and rubbing the entire area with the flat palm of her hand. Then she slipped first one and then two fingers into her vagina, fingering herself almost casually at first, but eventually slamming her fingers in and out of her swollen pussy. During the whole masturbation session, she kept up a running narration, telling him exactly how she liked to be played with.

"Now I have a favor to ask you," she said throatily, as she lightly played with herself.

"And what might that be?"

"I want you to fuck me like a bitch, like I'm a whore you picked up at a sleazy bar," she growled. "Fuck me hard til I scream, slap me with your cock, choke me, or shove that thick piece of meat up my ass. Fuck me until I can't walk straight. Dominate me. Do whatever you want to me. Just make it rough, and treat me like a slut."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied enthusiastically, with a wicked grin.

He told her to go down on him, which she did at once. As soon as he was hard, he ordered her into a sitting position on the floor, with her back against the bed. He stood in front of her and ordered her to open her mouth.

"Don't you even think about closing it until I give you permission," he snarled. "You understand me?"

She mumbled her assent, and he slapped her cheeks loudly on both sides with his hard cock several times. Then he thrust his cock into her open mouth and brutally fucked her face until she gagged. Once she did, he stopped and told her to close her mouth.

"So, Doctor Miller," he said in a mocking tone. "What sort of doctor are you? What's your specialty?"

"I-Internal Medicine," she stammered. "I'm a Pulmonologist."

He slapped her with his hard cock a couple more times. "That's not what I heard. I think you're lying to me." He grabbed a large handful of her blonde hair and pulled, tilting her head upward to face him. "Are you lying to me, Doctor?"

"Wh-what have you heard?"

"I've heard you're a sex therapist, that you spend almost all your time on all fours, with your ass in the air, letting your patients ram their cocks down your throat, or in your tight little pussy, or up your ass. I've heard you sometimes treat two or three patients at the same time, one in each hole. I even heard you've treated up to six patients at one time: one in your mouth, one in your pussy, one in your ass, while giving a handjob to two of them, and a footjob to the sixth. So is that true?"

"It's true," she admitted, playing along. "It says 'Internal Medicine - Pulmonology' on my lab coat and on my door, but the 'Internal' only refers to the internal cumshots my patients give me."

"Oh, so your patients cum inside you, is that right?"

"S-sometimes. If their insurance covers the procedure. I let them stick their big dicks up my ass and pound me until they cum. Sometimes if I'm really horny, I'll let them cum in my ass, whether their insurance covers it or not."

"So you like getting fucked in the ass, eh?"

"Yes."

"Say it." He gave the handful of hair he held a sharp jerk.

"I like getting fucked in the ass."

"Like it or love it?"

"I love it. I love getting fucked in the ass."

"I can't hear you."

"I love getting fucked in the ass!"

"Louder!"

"I LOVE GETTING FUCKED IN THE ASS!"

"So what if I wanted to fuck you there? I have insurance, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't cover ass fucking my doctor."

"I'd consider it a privilege. I won't submit it to your insurance."

"I think I'll have some of that sexy ass, then. But there's another procedure I need done also, and you're going to do it. You know what that is?"

"No."

"You're going to give me a footjob. I've never had one, but you have incredibly sexy feet, Doctor. But I'm sure you hear that all the time, don't you?"