Hospital Visitor Pt. 02

The day after my fortuitous visit to the hospital I was still giddy about my good luck the day before. At six o'clock that evening, I sat down to watch the evening news wondering if Donna Hawthorne be back in the anchor chair so soon.

All that day, I had been reliving the events of the day before. Mrs. Hawthorne was one of the more classic older beauties I had ever seen. It would have been arousing enough just to see her in public, but to pet her pussy while her husband looked on compliantly was beyond my wildest dreams. Well, sometimes dreams do come true, I guess.

Moments after relaxing on my sofa, there was the lovely Donna Hawthorne on my television, greeting her viewers with her customary, "Welcome to the evening news," sign-on.

In two seconds, I released my cock so I could enjoy the news better. Down came my trousers and my balls hung freely over the edge of the sofa as I watched her and nursed myself with gentle touches into a more and more aroused state. Never had the evening news been such good news to my dick.

As I watched her, I flipped through my photos from the day before while my thick eight inch cock waved back and forth. On television her hair and make up were perfect, not as informal as she had looked in the recovery room bed. But I knew that the same pussy in my photos was under her desk as she spoke to the public.

At the end of the broadcast, Donna Hawthorne looked straight into the camera and said, "I was away yesterday for a minor medical necessity, and I want to think the nice gentleman who stopped by and brought flowers." She smiled then finished, "Good night."

What?! My cock was pulsing and in need of tending, but what had I just heard? What did it mean? Instead of finishing off my wanking, my mind was dizzy thinking about what she had just said.

Why would she have said that? Obviously, it was only for me to hear. Did she want to encourage me? Or did she want to do me mischief? Should I take the bait? I looked down at my erection as I thought it through and considered the possibilities.

All that night, I was excited and even a bit frantic about the implications of Mrs. Hawthorne's words. Had she laughed at my little game, and was she open to play more games? Or were she and her husband enraged and looking for revenge?

What to do?

The next day, I ordered a floral delivery to her at her studio, and wrote on the card, "It was all my pleasure." Then added my email address, perhaps risking disclosure.

Three days passed before she sent me this message, "Dear sir, what can I say? You surprised us completely. I thought it was hilarious, but my dear husband Bill was beside himself. Thanks for a memorable escapade."

Her message was an invitation to learn more. So I replied, "Truthfully, it was entirely a mistake. I was there to visit a friend, and I walked into the wrong room. The nurse thought I was your husband, and that's how it started. I do apologize for violating your privacy."

She wrote back right away, "No apology necessary. It was an honest mistake on our part, and I hope you enjoyed yourself."

"Oh, I sure did!" I replied, "Like never before."

"I'm glad to hear that. At least my aging body is still of interest to someone."

Was she kidding? She was probably in her early 50s, and aging gracefully. I wrote back, "Oh yes! Your body is of great interest, and may I again compliment you on the finest looking vagina I've ever seen."

She wrote, "I'm blushing. You are too kind."

By now I was emboldened to ask her, "What about your husband? Mr. Hawthorne? Is he angry?"

This is where it got more interesting. She replied, "Bill wouldn't see straight for a while there. He was mad and embarrassed and could hardly speak."

I wrote, "He didn't like being fooled?"

"It seemed that way at first," she wrote.

"What do you mean, 'at first?'"

She explained, "Bill was red faced and indignant. I was released, and we drove home, both of us still startled by what you did. I was kind of giddy about the whole thing, but Bill was mad. But it soon became clear that what seemed like anger was really arousal."

"He was aroused by what I did?" I asked.

"I'll say," and then she changed the conversation. "Why don't we meet for coffee?"

It didn't take me two seconds to agree, and the next day I met the beautiful newswoman Donna Hawthorne at a coffee shop not far from her studio. We met in the afternoon about an hour before she had to report for the evening news show. I arrived early and took a table where we could talk in confidence.

She arrived, wearing the smart type of dress I'd seen her wear in television. Her hair was perfectly groomed. She was taller than I expected, truly a stately woman of distinction.

I arose, "Nice to see you again," I said as we shook hands.

She leaned over and greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, "Nice to see you too, this time on purpose."

As we nursed our cups of coffee, she explained more about her husband and why she wanted to follow up with me.

"Bill was spewing and angry and beside himself in the hospital, but when we got home his behavior changed and I could tell he was aroused."

"Oh?" I said.

"Definitely," she replied.

"How did you know?" I asked.

"Right there in the livingroom he tried to undress me. What you did must have aroused him and transported him to a very erotic place. I resisted but he was insistent. This is very unlike him. Usually, months can go by with no behavior like this. In fact, Bill has been practically impotent for years. But when he undressed, all I saw was potence. I hadn't seen an erection like that on my husband for a long time."

I stirred my coffee and pretended to only be mildly interested.

"Go on," I said.

"Well, I had to put my foot down. I told him I'd just had an internal procedure and that he needed to calm down."

"Did he?" I asked.

"Hell no!" she said, "He began to talk about what happened while I was still under sedation, how you and he just sat there looking at my nakedness, how you insisted that I keep my legs spread apart."

I interjected, "Yes, I enjoyed that part myself."

"I fuckin' bet you did!" she said with a laugh. "It was all I could do to convince Bill to back off."

"How did you do it?"

Donna smiled, "I told him if he had only one option, and that was to wank himself. The poor guy was so excited, and I hated to waste a perfectly good erection."

"How big is his dick?" I asked. Donna looked a little surprised at my question, so I repeated, "Is it big enough to satisfy the most beautiful woman in this town?"

She was hesitant to say anything, so I pushed harder, "Come on, Mrs. Hawthorne, I openly played with your pussy in front of your husband. He let me touch you and inspect you closely, and you don't think it's proper to tell me is he has a cock worthy of you?"

"You make a convincing case," she said. "After all, it's not like you're a complete stranger." The she laughed, "Well, you are a stranger, but an intimate stranger."

My cock had been hard since she walked into the coffee shop, and by now it was straining down my pant leg and leaking something awful.

"Mrs. Hawthorne, let me make this easier," I told her. I reached over and took her hand. As I placed it on my long shaft so she could feel it's length and girth, I said, "Use this as a guide to judging your husband."

Her eyes widened. Her hand gripped me firmly and felt up and down its length. She squeezed to feel its overall volume. Finally, she whispered, "Let's just say this one here is much much larger."

I smiled and told her, "Well, that's not a problem in most marriages. There are compensations that make marriages happy and satisfying."

She checked the time, "I've got to go in five minutes."

I said, "I've enjoyed getting to know you better."

Then she explained, "Let me get to the point. Bill has been in a silly lather ever since you barged in on me in the hospital. He's like a dog in heat."

I laughed and noticed that she hadn't taken her hand off my swollen cock.

She continued, "This weekend is his 60^th birthday, and I know what would please him the most."

I leaned in to hear her say to me, "He doesn't know that we have met. He has not idea that we are in touch. Here's what I want to ask you to do. It would be a favor for us."

"Yes," I eagerly said.

"Would you come over to our home? I will tell Bill that there is a surprise for his birthday that evening."
"Yes, I would do that," I told her, "But when he sees me will he be angry or sad? Will is ruin his birthday?"

"Oh no," she said, "Nothing would please him more than for me to tell him that I've arranged for you to complete your exam by giving me a breast exam."

My eyes dropped to her sizeable chest. As she squeezed my dick and I thought about squeezing those gorgeous tits, I agreed to do it. As a favor, of course.