The Making of an Ass Man

Too, he only had to take one look at her – or to remember his thoughts, the first moment he'd ever laid eyes on her, in that coffee shop, a couple years back. Jeannie was apparently unaware how her outgoing and genuinely ingratiating personality – coupled with her absolute dynamite body – caused her to 'ooze' sex from every pore, or how hot she'd appear to those eager, horny Lotharios who prowled the grocery stores and shopping centers looking for bored or unfulfilled housewives. As attractive as Jeannie was, she likely couldn't take a trek through the local grocery store, or the nearby Walmart, without at least three or four such men trying to flirt with her and pick her up. Heaven forbid she should be in an exceptionally weak state of mind, one day, and actually give in to one of them!

He truly loved her, and he knew that she loved him back with a boundless and joyous love. And he was worried that his wife's unsatisfied desires could pose a serious obstacle to their long-term happiness – that, one of these days, she'd grow so desperate for the sexual pleasures his problem caused him to deny her, that her resistance to all those overtures she normally turned away would ebb to a point where she'd actually give in to one of those offers. And it might only take one such time, to set her on a path that their marriage would not survive, intact!

To counter the problem, he had, in fact, begun going to counseling without telling her. He went through a dozen clinical psychologists until he found one with whom he was comfortable enough to discuss his issue. Steve was surprised that it was a woman only a few years older than his wife, who was able to put him at ease.

"So, basically our problem is that my wife wants oral and anal sex, and the thought of either one makes me physically ill," Steve finally laid it out for her. It was his third session, and Dr. Camilla Hamilton just nodded. She'd suspected there was a personal issue bothering this patient, imagined it to be something sexual in nature, and hadn't rushed him into it. Instead, she'd let him take things at his own speed, realizing that his level of comfort with her was the key to their getting anywhere near solving his problem.

There was an awkward, long silence.

"Well?" Steve finally asked.

"Well, what?" Dr. Hamilton replied, "Why is this such a problem for you?"

"I want to make my wife happy, Doc," he sighed plaintively. "I'd give anything within my power to give, to be able to offer her what I know she craves, but I just can't seem to do it. I can't tell you how many times I've tried to 'psych' myself up, to do just that, only to fail, miserably, long before I could get into bed with her."

"Is there some reason that it makes you physically ill?"

Steve sighed. There was, but he had never told anyone.

Dr. Hamilton asked softly, "Did someone do something to you, when you were younger? Were you molested?"

Steve looked horrified, "Oh, no; nothing like that! Well, I mean, I wasn't molested."

He sighed again, and looked at Dr. Hamilton. It was time to let it out.

"When I was ten, we went on a camping trip as a family. My older brothers were very interested in women, but I hadn't figured out the fascination yet. They kept going on and on about this girl who was a few years older than me, who was camped some short distance from our family's campsite. I could recognize that she was pretty, but they had apparently seen her ass. They raved about how sexy it was.

"I was curious about it, of course, and decided to take a chance and try and get a look at her ass, myself. I followed her around for a couple of days from a ways off, and figured out that there was a spot she went to relieve herself. The next day, I crouched down in the bushes just a couple feet behind her, to watch her pull down her panties. Unfortunately, she had diarrhea, and it was really bad. It was absolutely disgusting and, of course, I couldn't move without making noise and alerting her to my presence. So I had nowhere to go to escape the sight or the smell." He shook involuntarily at the memory, feeling the bile rise in his throat.

Dr. Hamilton recognized the trauma in the story, and in Steve's reaction to telling it. This might take a long time for him to get past. He wasn't done talking, though.

"Later on, when I got to high school, there were a bunch of guys I hung out with. One of them commented that a particular girl in our school had a really nice ass. When all the other guys said it was merely 'okay,' the one guy who had brought it up looked at everyone else like they were nuts. He said something like, 'Are you kidding me? That is one amazing ass! I would love to eat my lunch off her backside!' Just the thought made me sick to my stomach. But then the other guys all started giving him grief. At least two of them said, 'Butt stuff makes you gay.' So that just reinforced what I already thought – that it was disgusting."

Dr. Hamilton made a note, but talked calmly to Steve while she wrote. "Look, Steve, I can tell you that those friends of yours were wrong. But you already know that, don't you?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah. But it's still stuck in my head, playing over and over – like an old vinyl record with a skip in it. I know that my wife has a nice ass, objectively speaking, but I can't look at it without feeling uncomfortable—and that presumes she's dressed. I can't even have vaginal sex with her, from behind, if the lights are on. What can I do, Doc?"

Dr. Hamilton thought about it for a few moments, before answering his desperate question. On a purely personal level, she wasn't an ardent fan of anal sex. She engaged in the act, from time to time, to satisfy her own husband's occasional penchant for it, but it didn't sate her sexual desires the way having her pussy filled did. She understood that some women, and a lot of men, really did enjoy anal sex – some, to a greater degree than others. Judging by what Steve had told her, his wife – Jeannie – was one of those women who enjoyed the feel of it immensely. She pursed her lips, as her mind went through the various treatments and therapies that could help this patient overcome both the initial trauma and the resultant aversion it had created within him.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Steve," she continued. "What you're dealing with is a major childhood trauma. This sort of thing can take a really long time to work through; otherwise you risk being further traumatized and making things worse than they already are. Is there any chance that your wife can attend these sessions, with you?"

Steve looked horrified again, "Oh no! No, that would just be way too embarrassing. I really don't want my wife to know that every time I see her naked behind I picture...you know, nastiness shooting out of it."

Dr. Hamilton looked at him speculatively for a bit. "Here's what I don't understand, Steve. You said 'oral and anal sex' earlier. Why the aversion to oral sex?"

Steve sighed. "I can't put my face down there. It's too close to her ass. I'm afraid I'd throw up, and that would just..." He shook his head sadly.

"Didn't you say your wife wanted to perform oral sex on you, though? Why is that a problem?"

"Well, doc, if she does it for me, then I'd be obligated to do it for her. I just can't."

Camilla knew that his answer demonstrated some seriously flawed thinking, on his part. Given what he had related to her, about her cravings and desires, it was highly likely that what she craved the most was the taste and feel of him ejaculating in her mouth. On a personal level, she understood that desire, in Jeannie, because she'd experienced exactly that in her own past sexual relationships. She could very nearly orgasm, when her husband filled her mouth with his thick cream...

In the paperwork that Steve had filled out, prior to his first session with her, there was a question that asked if he'd ever consulted with any other therapists, regarding the problem he sought her help with. He'd listed an even dozen clinical practitioners in the response block, and she'd spoken briefly with a few that she knew on a personal or professional level. She'd learned that he'd broken off his sessions with them before they had even achieved this breakthrough point – the revelation of the root trauma behind his problems. She didn't want to risk pushing Steve too fast, this early in their sessions, and so she refrained from asking him the most obvious question – had he ascertained that she would, in fact, require him to reciprocate if she took him in her mouth.

It was unfortunate that he was so adamant about excluding his wife from the sessions, but – even in that – she understood the compulsion that drove his notion. Steve felt bad enough, that he felt that way about any part of his wife's body, to begin with. He couldn't bear to have her actually discover that he felt that way.

Still, it was a shame. If she could just talk with Steve's wife, if Jeannie understood the problem her husband was dealing with, they would have a much easier time working through the situation together. She was, however, obligated to maintain doctor-patient confidentiality, so long as he was adamantly against bringing his wife into the picture in any deeper way.

Dr. Hamilton began to explain the course of therapy she recommended, and also gave Steve several alternative therapies to consider. It was a very informative session all around. Steve left the session at the end of their hour together, hopeful that he could overcome his problem.

* * *

One week later, it was Joshua Thompson's eighteenth birthday. His sister, Beth came to the hospital with Jennifer and Phil. They brought in a birthday cake – though they skipped any candles due to the presence of so many oxygen lines, on the floor – and all four nurses came in for this odd celebration. Two of the doctors who had been overseeing his care also attended, and one of them pointed out that – according to the record of the EEG machine to which he was hooked – his brain activity had become elevated when they'd all sung 'Happy Birthday' to him.

"Clearly, he can hear you. I'd say it's just a matter of time and enough of the right stimulation, and he'll be back with us."

Jeannie and Jennifer became ever closer as friends. They often joked – privately – about finding some young, well-hung stud and then kidnapping him, forcing him to satisfy their oral and anal cravings. Neither woman would ever follow through on such a hare-brained scheme; it was merely a diversion to enable them to joke about their unique shared problem and the cravings that were at the root of it.

A few weeks after Joshua's birthday party, Jeannie started to feel her former roommate, Sarah, was drifting away from her. Something was clearly bothering Sarah, but she was downright skittish whenever Jeannie tried to talk to her about the situation. Another two weeks passed, and the same was suddenly true of Heather, as well. Since Sarah and Heather were the two nurses with whom she most often worked, the situation on the ward became increasingly uncomfortable for her. She felt as though her friends were all 'in' on some kind of joke or secret, and she was the one being left on the outside, all alone. It was not at all a good feeling.

There was another reason for her discomfort, though. It was Joshua himself.

Jeannie had been working late with Heather, one night. It was Jeannie's turn to clean the coma patients. At the time, there were three patients in the ward. Every night, after visiting hours, one of the nurses would give the patients their sponge baths. It was generally an unpleasant task, so they made sure to take turns doing it, to keep it fair. The patients were also kept shaved of body hair, so cleaning them was faster. Occasionally, this meant that Jeannie needed to shave patients when she bathed them.

This night, she did have to shave one of the patients. It was an older gentleman named Robert. She shaved him carefully and then cleaned him up. She changed his bed linens and moved on. Finally she came to Joshua. His eyes were moving beneath his eyelids, which wasn't unusual for him. She wondered – not for the first time – if coma patients dreamed and, if so, what Joshua was dreaming about in his coma. She hoped, for Jennifer's sake, that he would recover.

Jeannie had, as usual, drawn the privacy curtain around the young man's bed. She pulled off the bed linens covering him and tossed them out into the linen cart. She managed not to gasp out loud, shaking her head softly when she saw Joshua was erect and throbbing beneath his hospital gown. His penis was easily the largest she had ever seen.

Judging cock sizes without a workable gauge was never an easy thing, but she knew that the distance from the tip of her thumb to the tip of her little finger, with her hand splayed at its widest stretch, was a trifle over seven and a half inches. Placing her thumb so that the tip touched the base of his cock where it melded with his groin, its length exceeded her splayed fingers by at least an inch – if not more. And its girth was every bit as thick as the cardboard roll from a tube of paper towels. Truly, it was a cock designed to pleasure a woman royally, and

she couldn't help the fact that the mere sight of that massive appendage, standing tall and 'at the ready,' made her mouth water, her pussy grow wet, and her sphincter twitch.

Jeannie rolled him onto his side, untying the hospital gown and sliding it in front of him. She efficiently cleaned his backside, and noticed his thighs and buttocks were looking noticeably more toned than the last time she had cleaned him. The physical therapy he'd been receiving, even in his coma, was obviously working. She turned him flat on his back, and washed his face and neck, then worked her way down his torso.

She started to get distracted, that evening, which was unusual. She had, like her fellow nurses, been very careful to pay as little attention to the massive cock on her young charge as possible. Somehow, it looked somehow bigger, that night. He seemed harder; his cock was just throbbing before she even reached it. It also had a very large drop of clear liquid that had oozed out of the slit at its tip. She couldn't take her eyes off of that. Her mouth was watering, and the scent of his pre-cum was a tantalizing, tangy aroma in her nostrils.

It had been so long...

That gleaming drop of precious nectar and the throbbing, delicious cock head grew larger and larger until they filled her vision. She wasn't even truly aware that she'd been moving her head closer, or that she had opened her mouth after licking her lips, until that solitary drop of clear liquid caressed her tongue. Jeannie suppressed a shudder at the familiar taste. The aching emptiness in her mouth was finally being filled once again with a wonderfully thick cock.

Jeannie realized with a start that she had moaned out loud around the fat dick in her mouth. She pulled up off of it with a slurp and her eyes shot open. "What have I done?" she wondered to herself. Her hands were shaking as she hastily finished cleaning Joshua, dressed him in a fresh gown, and changed his bed linens.

For the rest of the night, she couldn't make eye contact with Heather without feeling herself blush. Somehow, Heather didn't even notice. As for Jeannie, she was so distracted that she completely missed it, two hours later, when Heather went into the coma ward to check on the patients and emerged a half hour later with a small trickle of white at the corner of her mouth...

The next morning, after she got off work, Jeannie drove her truck over to Jennifer's house for their normal morning coffee. By that time, she had managed to calm down about what had happened. It would never happen again, she was sure. Jennifer invited her in with a hug. The coffee and the conversation were as great as ever. They laughed and had a nice hour together before Jeannie headed home.

Steve looked preoccupied that evening. Whatever was bothering him, he definitely didn't want to talk about it, and Jeannie didn't push him. Later, she wore a sexy nightie and sat in his lap, the two of them exchanging kisses which began softly and grew steadily more heated, while they watched a movie on television, together. After the movie, she undressed her sexy husband and then slithered back into his lap, facing him. Rising up, she slipped him inside her steaming tunnel and then proceeded to ride him hard, enjoying the feel of his hot mouth on her turgid, distended nipples, swollen with her arousal, as his thick cock filled her wet pussy. After a good, hard ride, he filled her with a massive load of hot cum, right there on the living room couch – and another load in their bedroom, afterward.

He also did one of her favorite things, that night. It began when he left the bed to turn off all the lights in their bedroom.

"Oh, Baby!" Jeannie groaned in pleasure as he positioned her on hands and knees on their bed and slipped in behind her to fill her aching, empty pussy once more.

It was really good, for Jeannie.

It was good for Steve, too, but he was really struggling to keep it together. His desensitization therapy was really pushing him, three months into his weekly sessions. Doctor Hamilton had given him a file to load onto his smart phone, containing pictures of very clean women's asses, and he had looked at them several times each day, for week upon week.

He had looked at them, again, that afternoon, and had managed not to throw up, this time, but it had still been really rough. He contented himself with the knowledge that – though progress was slow – he was nonetheless moving forward with the therapy. Every photo that he managed to look at – and every time he glanced at a woman's buttocks as he passed her on the street – without feeling his gorge rise was a triumph, however small. If he continued at this rate, he was certain that he would eventually reach a point where he would be able to give his wife that which she craved.

After making love to Jeannie for the third time, that night, he held her sexy body in his arms.

"This is why I'm doing this," he told himself as he felt the warmth of her naked skin against his own. "She is why I'm doing it, and she's worth it!"

The next time it was Jeannie's turn to bathe the patients at work, she was a complete professional about it. She was pleased with herself and relieved that this wasn't going to be a problem. She was smiling to herself at the nurse's station desk. Sarah was working with her that night and noticed her improved disposition.

"What's got you so happy tonight?" Sarah asked her long time friend.

"Oh, I was thinking about Steve," Jeannie replied. "I love him so much. He said the funniest thing yesterday..."

At that point, Sarah had basically tuned her out. Sarah was trying to figure out how she would be able to get alone time with Joshua, so she could get another taste of that young man's magnificent dick. It was so much easier when she and Charlene were on at the same time. Each knew that the other was helping herself to a taste of the young man's thick, creamy seed – an act which they viewed as giving a whole new meaning to the idea of 'taking care of the patient' – and they would take turns covering for each other. But Charlene had some sort of activity to attend, with her parents and a younger sibling, that night, and Jeannie was filling the hole thus created in the schedule.

The next time Jeannie was tasked with the sponge baths, she knew she was in trouble before she even got to work. Steve had been painfully erect that morning. Jeannie had awakened with her head pillowed in its usual place – on her husband's chest – to the sight of that glorious, delicious looking pillar of man meat just two feet from her watering mouth. She couldn't help herself. She slid down the bed and licked the tip of his cock, her whole body shivering in delight at the taste of the single drop of pre-cum that had seeped from its head. It was so damned good! Her lips eagerly took in the head, reveling in the taste and texture.