The Urologist Cougar Ch. 02

[Author's Note: to those who are interested in Laura and David's developing relationship, I apologize. As you may know, and if you don't, why not? I tend to have several storylines going. But I have always been fascinated by matriarchal families (my wife wears the pants in our family) and, well, anyway, here you are. I promise I won't take as long until the next episode.]

There are times when the double negative is the best way to express something in the English language. As I woke, slowly, hung over a bit with a sore asshole, sore cock, and aching head, I realized she had been right. Overnight I had no control and my diaper, I don't know what else to call adult pullups, was full. When I moved, feeling for her and finding the bed empty, there was a not unpleasant (I told you, the double negative is sometimes best) sensation as the load in my diaper smeared around.

I searched for the muscles and squeezed my asshole shut, glad that it wasn't some sort of permanent damage. Then I thought, "fuck it," and relaxed. A lifetime of training can be hard to overcome but as I lay there, my head on the pillow, my eyes closed, I didn't push, but deliberately relaxed and after a while, my need to pee overcame my training. The feeling of warm wetness spreading was actually very pleasant, and I was smiling as my bladder slowly emptied.

I realized that I had crossed a bridge that I might not be able to cross back. Looking back, I'm sure the drugs she had given me were still working. I didn't care. I liked it.

After a while, I'm not sure how long, you know how it is when you're hungover and still a bit drunk, I rolled over, sat up, and stood beside the bed. In the process, I felt shit smearing and flashed on the image of what it must look like. But I got to my feet, a bit unsteadily, and went in search of my hostess.

I caught myself walking a little funny with the sodden diaper on. I knew, on some level, that the drugs were still working on me. I just didn't care.

In the kitchen, I poured a glass of orange juice and drank it greedily. I was dehydrated I suppose.

I heard a voice and followed it down the hall.

Laura was sitting in front of her computer screen looking very professional in her dark suit jacket, blindingly white blouse, and a tasteful string of pearls. Her hair was done up, not one out of place. Certainly no hint of what we had done last night. She was concentrating on a mirror, putting the finishing touches on her makeup.

I guess movement caught her eye because she looked up and flashed The Grin.

"Oh good," she said, "you're up. Come here, sweety. I have a meeting in a minute or so and I was getting afraid I'd have to get my Silver Bullet to make it through."

As I came around the desk I could see she had nothing on below the jacket. Obviously a teleconference meeting.

"Under the desk, baby," she said, "Quick now, they're about to start the meeting and God knows I need a distraction."

I chuckled and crawled under the desk.

Laura is one of those women whose body fat settles in one place. In her case, it was thick thighs and thick, meaty nether lips. The pubic hair of that little triangle on her mons was very dark and very coarse, but the lips themselves were very smooth. I wondered if there had been lasers involved. Certainly, it was nothing as crude as a razor.

I started kissing the inside of her thighs, brushing my cheeks against them, urging her, with my movements, to part her legs some more.

I heard the computer speaker, a man's voice, say, "Good morning everyone, shall we get started?"

While he was talking I began licking. She scooted forward in her chair, making it easier for me, her ass barely on the seat and her pussy available. As they called the roll I kept slowly licking and when she said "Laura," I nipped at the inner lips peeking out making her draw a quick intake of breath before she got, "Morgan," out. She covered with a little cough and a quick, "excuse me."

It was obvious that this was going to be a long meeting. She was already wet when the roll call ended and she was starting to squirm a bit when some guy named Carl started droning on about some study and how it affected the protocols of whatever it was he was talking about. Much of it was literally Greek to me and the rest was so full of jargon and acronyms that it might as well have been.

None of which mattered, when you get down to it.

I was focused on a beautiful pussy. I was licking and sucking and using every trick I had ever learned. When I pulled away, to look, her thick mucus, her natural lubricant, hung from it in a thick, clear, shiny string. I watched, fascinated, as it slowly stretched, wondering if it would reach the floor.

When it broke I bent forward and began kissing again. I used my thumb to lift her clitoral hood, thick and heavy, and then began on her exposed pleasure button. It was very pink and very hard, throbbing in a shiny pool of her nectar. When I pursed my lips and began sucking it her hips moved and she coughed and said, again, "excuse me."

I brought her along, sucking, feeling her clitoris swelling as I nursed on it. Her nectar was running again, I could feel it thick and warm on my chin. I liked that her voice caught when she answered a question.

I was awash in the perfume of her arousal, the pheromones had me throbbing, and my own breathing was pretty shaky, as I kept at her clitoris, feeling her body tensing as she got closer to release.

When I pulled back this time she was flowing freely. That thick mucus rope hung, swaying a little with the movement of her hips, and I caught it in my hand, slowly lifting, filling my hand before I smeared it on her nether lips and thighs.

I deliberately used my face and cheeks to smear it more before latching onto her pussy like a hungry baby.

She came, explosively, coughing to cover up for her meeting. This was beyond "squirting." The first burst of her release filled my mouth instantly. It was like covering a damn garden hose. I couldn't swallow fast enough and when I pulled away she sprayed, soaking my hair and splashing on my chest.

When that wave had passed the consistency of her nectar had changed. It was no longer clear. It was almost white, almost like my semen, and it was flowing freely, hanging in a thick rope reaching the floor and making a puddle on the plastic rug cover where her office chair rolled. I caught it in my hand and smeared it on her thighs, amazed at how much one woman could produce.

I bathed in her pleasure. The thick warm heady brew felt good as I let it run over my hair until I was dripping with it. Looking back I'm sure the drugs she had given me had something t do with it, but in that moment I didn't care. I was lost in her pure femaleness.

I couldn't help myself. I pushed my hand under the heavy elastic of the diaper that I wore and masturbated. It only took a few seconds, the state I was in.

And then I was back at her pussy. The thought flashed through my mind, "this is where I belong" as I opened my mouth wide and sucked, feeling how her labia was swollen and hot in my mouth.

I kept her going as the meeting droned on. I really have no idea how long I was under her desk. Long enough to take her through a dozen orgasms. Long enough that I realized my morning hunger was being eased with what I was drinking from her. And I didn't want to stop. Hell, I didn't want to stop EVER!

Finally, her meeting did end of course. She signed off with a bunch of "thank yous" and "see you soons."

I heard her click off and the little high-pitched whooping sound and the telemeeting ended.

She pushed back her chair and smiled down at me.

"I think I'll keep you," she said, flashing the GRIN, "I haven't enjoyed a meeting that much lately."