A Visit to the Doctor

Susan Wheeler was in a bind.

Having graduated from Lehigh University just before her twenty-second birthday, she was looking forward to spending part of the summer (before entering graduate school in Art History at the University of Pennsylvania—Ivy League!) in India, looking up the spectacular Hindu temples and other great examples of Indian architecture scattered throughout the subcontinent. But the problem was that she would have to get shots to ward off various diseases—specifically, typhoid, cholera, and dysentery—that were still endemic to that country and that plagued the foreign visitors who showed up there.

But then she thought she could turn this problem to her advantage.

Throughout her years at Lehigh she had taken every opportunity to see a really nice doctor in the health clinic there, Jason Fields. He was, technically, a resident—an M.D., to be sure, but one who needed to do a certain amount of advanced training following medical school in order to receive his license to practice medicine. Susan guessed that he was about twenty-eight, and he was cute as a button: tall, lanky, but with broad shoulders and (so far as she could tell) some nice muscles around his chest and thighs. And those buns! Oh, baby, did he have nice buns! She got wet just thinking about them.

So she hatched a plan.

Even though she had graduated, she was still allowed to make an appointment to see him at the clinic. And so, when she tripped into his office in mid-June, she saw him scribbling diligently on some forms. It seemed he hadn't even noticed she'd come into the room, for he looked up in faint alarm and unwittingly showed off his deep blue eyes and shock of wavy blond hair.

"Oh!" he cried, then settled down when he saw who it was. "Hi, Susan. I'd forgotten about your appointment."

"Shame on you, Jason!" she said, boldly using his first name. Up to that moment she had respectfully addressed him as "Dr. Fields." He blushed faintly at hearing his first name, but tried to remain professional.

"What can I do for you?" he said.

"Well, you see, Jason, I'm going to India."

"Wow, that's great! Big trip."

"You're telling me! So much to plan for! I'll be there for three weeks, maybe a bit more. And, of course, I need some shots. You know, the usual—typhoid, dysentery, stuff like that."

"Yes, that's very important," he said primly.

"But here's the thing." She sat down on the chair right next to his tiny desk. "I don't like getting shots."

And she didn't. She had always been frightened of needles, and she did everything she could to avoid being subjected to them. In fact, she had fleetingly given some thought to getting her shots in her posterior—that might foster the plan she had hatched, but she didn't know if she could go through with it. Ugh! The idea of that sharp little dagger penetrating her tender flesh . . .

"Well," Jason said philosophically, "I guess not many people like getting shots."

"Isn't there any other way I could get the medicine I need?" she said, now placing a hand on his arm.

He looked at the hand as if it were some alien entity, then gazed back up at Susan. He said nothing.

"Don't they come in pills?" she whined.

She knew they didn't, but she made herself look as surprised and disappointed as she could when he said, "No, I'm sorry to say they don't."

"Are you sure there's no other way to get this stuff?" Now she had placed both of her hands on his arm, gripping it tightly.

He licked his lips and, after a long interval, looked her in the face. "Well, there is something else."

"What? What? I'll do anything!"

He swallowed again. "You can, um, get them as—suppositories."

Susan glowed with triumph inside. She knew that was the answer she was looking for. But she played dumb.

"Suppositories? What are they?"

Now a sweat broke out on Jason's forehead. "They—well, they're little pills—"

"But I thought you said these medicines didn't come as pills!" she cried, only as a way of teasing the poor guy.

"They don't, Susan. These pills are placed, um, in your"—he looked everywhere except at her—"rectum."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "That sounds like fun!" She bit her tongue: Oh, God, I'm blowing this! "I mean, that sounds fine."

"You really want to do it that way?"

"I'm sure it will be okay if you do it. I trust you, doctor."

Both of them stood up. Jason turned his back on Susan and fished into a drawer on another wall of the office, pulling out three little packets containing pills wrapped in plastic.

"I guess I'll undress," Susan said blandly.

"No, no!" Jason cried. "There's no need for that! Just—"

"Oh, Jason, it'll be so much easier. I don't want to get my clothes all messed up. You know what I mean?"

And with that, she stripped. It took about ten seconds: that's because she wasn't wearing a bra under her tight-fitting spandex blouse (which she knew were showing not only the contours of her breasts but also her protruding nipples) and wasn't wearing any panties underneath her wraparound skirt.

As she stood proudly naked before him, he just gaped at her. And why not? She was an incredible specimen of young womanhood: sloping shoulders, round, firm breasts (38D), flat stomach, strong thighs, tapered calves, and a thick dark bush covering her delta. And her face and blond hair weren't anything to sneeze at either.

"I'll just bend over on this table," she said, placing her torso on the examining table in the middle of the room but draping her legs—parted so that he could gaze at her moistening sex—over the edge.

In a shaky voice he said, "I'd better call in a nurse."

"Oh, Jason, there's no need for that!"

"Susan, it's a regulation. Anytime a procedure like this happens, I have to have a female nurse present. I could get into big trouble!"

She looked up at him over her shoulder. "Jason, it's not as if I'm a little girl. We're both adults. I won't tell if you don't."

It almost seemed as if Jason were looking for an excuse not to call the nurse. He said in a choking voice, "Okay."

"So what happens now?" she said, although she knew exactly what was in store for her.

"I—I guess . . ." He trailed off.

"Don't you have to put some lube on?" she said encouragingly.

He didn't reply, but he headed over to a cabinet and pulled out a tube that looked like toothpaste, although it clearly wasn't. He squeezed some on his fingers, then approached Susan as if she were a leopard ready to spring at him.

Extending his hand, he began rubbing the gooey stuff over her anus. She could hear him breathing irregularly. And why not? I have a lovely butt, and he's getting an up-close-and-personal look at it!

But there was a problem. Jason was putting the lubricant only on the outside of the anus. That couldn't be right.

"Um, doctor, don't you have to coat the inside of my, um, spot? Wouldn't that be better?"

She could feel his fingers trembling, and he said huskily, "Yes, you're right."

At first he inserted only a single finger into her nether orifice, and then only a fraction of an inch.

"I think two fingers would work a little better," she said encouragingly.

Jason grudgingly obliged.

"A little deeper, Jason."

He was now in up to the first knuckle, then to the second.

"Mmmm," she murmured, "that's better. It feels so good."

And she gave her butt a few wriggles—not so hard as to dislodge his fingers, but enough to convey a sense of her pleasure.

True enough, she had only had a man's cock in this dark place a few times, and it had hurt a little; but the guys had loved it, and she knew it was a fine way of keeping them coming back (no pun intended!) for more.

Jason withdrew his fingers, and Susan sensed a kind of emptiness that made her feel deflated. But within seconds, Jason had opened the first of the three pills and stuck it into her rectum. It slid right in.

"Ooooh," she said, laughing a little. "That tickles a little."

"It'll be over very soon," Jason said.

That's what you think!

The second pill went in, and then the third.

She looked up yearningly at Jason, whose expression seemed a little glassy-eyed.

"You—you can get dressed now," he whispered, turning his back to her.

Oh, no, I won't! We're just getting started here.

"Jason," she said in her most seductive voice, "come here for a minute."

For some moments it looked as if he was not going to obey her—that he might, in fact, just walk out of the little office and leave her bereft. But then, with infinite slowness, he approach her.

"What is it?"

"Come here," she said again, gesturing with her hand.

He walked like an automaton, and soon he was right next to her—or, rather, his groin was directly in front of Susan's face. She could see a bulge there already. And why not? He'd better be getting hard if he knows what's good for him!

She calmly reached out with both hands and began unbuckling his belt.

"Omigod, Susan!" he cried. "You shouldn't do that!" But she noticed he wasn't pulling away; instead, he was just gazing down at those hands as they worked.

She looked up at him with an expression that said: What are you, some kind of dummy? You have a lovely girl here at your beck and call, and you want to run away like a scared rabbit?

By now she had undone the zipper of his Dockers, and the pants just fell to the floor. His underwear was sadly misshapen as a result of his erection, and she released his cock with a quick tug on his briefs.

"Mmm!" she said in approval. Not bad—at least seven inches. This is going to feel good.

She popped about half of his cock into her mouth.

"Susan, what are you doing?" he cried in a comically high-pitched voice.

Again she gave him a quick glance (You know exactly what I'm doing—and you like it) before focusing her attention on the task at hand. She was now resting on her side, and with her two hands she grabbed his naked bottom—which, she was glad to see, was admirably firm and muscular. (I do love a good butt on a man!) But as she licked and sucked, she sometimes brought one hand underneath his cock to tickle his balls; and she was rewarded with a kind of whimper of pleasure from Jason, whose eyes remained fixated on the incredible sight. She even pulled his cock out of her mouth and, craning her neck, put both of his balls into her mouth, rolling them around as if they were jawbreakers. (But no biting down! That would be very bad.)

When he had attained suitable hardness, she let his cock go, smacked her lips, and said, "I think you know what to do now, Jason."

He continued to behave like a living mannequin, walking stiffly so that he was positioned directly behind Susan.

Her legs were still draped over the edge of the examining table, and she expected him to plunge right into her anus. But to her surprise, he first slid his cock up and down the crack of her butt, then entered her pussy. Well, that was okay! She was pretty wet, and she always liked this position for vaginal as well as anal sex. He grabbed her hips with both hands, as if to steady himself, and began pumping slowly, even mechanically. Little grunts were being forced out of his mouth, and they were echoed by moans coming from Susan.

After a few minutes of this, he pulled out and, like a golfer surveying a difficult shot from a sand trap onto the green, gave a careful assessment of the situation before filling her anus.

Both of them gasped as he went in about halfway. For a while he just stood motionless, but then he started thrusting slowly, gradually entering farther and farther until Susan could feel his balls slapping her labia. He was in all the way! She couldn't recall if any previous guy had actually done that, and she wished she could get a look at that cock totally submerged in her ass. But the feel of it was good enough.

Jason now bent over and grabbed her breasts with both hands. His face was now near her head, and he was rubbing it back and forth over her fragrant hair. Sometimes he kissed the back of her neck—and once, adventurously, he actually stuck his tongue in her ear. That almost made her come on the spot!

She expected Jason to fill her for a long time, but after only a few minutes he began making those telltale noises that indicate the culmination of a man's ecstasy. In fact, she sensed that there was a bit of frustration in his little moans; and when a huge, ragged groan came from deep in his throat, she knew that he had rung the bell—for himself, anyway. Spurts of hot come shot into her anus as he clutched her breasts spasmodically. Then he collapsed onto her back.

He seemed on the verge of pulling out when she all but screamed, "Stay in me! Don't come out!"

"What? Why?" he cried, baffled.

"Just stay in me." I think you might be able to do it again.

This climax of his had come far too soon, and she wasn't even remotely satisfied. She really didn't know what kind of stud Jason was—whether he was one of those men (all too many of them, in fact) who were totally depleted after a single orgasm. But, as she slipped her own hand down to her labia, she was at least encouraged that he hadn't gone entirely soft. Then he began pumping again—very slowly and gently at first, but then with greater vigor.

Pretty soon he was at it again, pounding away as if his life depended on it. Good boy! The sensation of being filled by this reasonably big cock was thrilling to Susan, and her stimulation of herself made the pleasure all the more intense.

But then he surprised her. He pulled away the hand that was tickling her sex, and—while now holding both of her breasts with one hand—he himself slipped his other hand down to her cleft and began stroking it. She was very wet, and he seemed to like having her juices coating his fingers. Meanwhile, his pummeling of her butt was becoming almost frantic.

The sensation of being stimulated in all her major zones—breasts, pussy, and ass—all at the same time was unprecedented. Even the few men who had entered her butt before had seemed so focused on that task that they had paid little attention to servicing her in other ways. But Jason—who may or may not have been an "anal virgin"—seemed to have an intuitive understanding that pleasure was a two-way street, and this multitasking on his part made Susan feel curiously—and delightfully—helpless. It made her think of all those Victorian novels she had read, where the heroine was seized by a man who "had his way with her."

Time seemed frozen as Jason continued to work her over, and it was now Susan who became dazed and glassy-eyed as he thrust and thrust. He was really working pretty hard, and she wasn't at all sure he could really manage a second time. But then, all of a sudden, following a kind of choking gasp, he did flood her again with his emission—and his toying with her breasts and pussy impelled an equally sudden and thunderous orgasm of her own.

They both cried out loudly, paying no need to who might hear them in the office outside. His discharge seemed even more copious than before and seemed to go on forever. At last he was emptied. Totally sore and spent, he pulled out a bit too quickly, causing a twinge of pain in Susan's posterior.

"Ow!" she said.

But she really wasn't complaining. Jason had performed like a stallion!

"My God!" she cried, as she felt his come oozing out of her anus and down her thighs. "You came twice without coming out! I'm impressed."

Jason could do little but stagger to the chair next to his desk, falling heavily into it. She herself was a little stiff, but stood up and gazed down at him. His cock was still not entirely soft, but it was glistening with both his juices and hers. Like a good little mother, she found a washcloth, poured some hot water on it from a sink nearby, and, bending down on her knees, washed it thoroughly.

Every now and then she looked up at him with a broad smile, eyes twinkling. She stood up, but almost immediately squatted over him, sitting in his lap as she placed his head between her breasts. He seized those breasts with his hands, licking and kissing and nuzzling them with his mouth, sometimes even biting down (gently!) on her nipples. That sent a little shiver of delight through her.

She kissed the top of his head, making little cooing sounds as he paid homage to her magnificent breasts.

Susan sighed heavily. She was almost ready to go again, but she knew he was exhausted. Still, she had a feeling that sessions like this would be repeated many times in the future—but not here, of course.

Dr. and Mrs. Jason Fields, she pondered. That has a nice ring to it.