Unexpected Consquences

Unintended Consequences

A story about how small things can have very big consequences, although we all know this anyway.

Many years ago, I was a young junior doctor working in a provincial town in The North of England. I was employed on a one in three rota in Medicine which meant I worked every third night and every third weekend on call, and for this privilege I had my own room to live in in the doctor's accommodation and for which I paid no rent. I was unmarried and unfettered by any commitments other than to my job.

The social life in the hospital was excellent. Those were the days before it was frowned on for doctors to drink while on duty, and the doctors mess had its own bar, and during the evenings a haze of smoke would hang in the air, whilst on call staff waited for their bleepers to summon them to the wards, or off duty staff would relax. There was also a bar in the doctor's accommodation building. Virtually every Friday or Saturday night there would be a party going on somewhere in the hospital, either in the doctor's residence, the nurse's residence, or the porters mess where many of the non-clinical hospital staff would stop and have a drink.

One Saturday night I had gone into town for some unknown reason I cannot recall. When I returned to my room I could hear a party happening on the floor above. and reasoning that I probably would not be able to sleep because of the noise, I went upstairs to investigate.

When I got to the bar it was heaving and I decided since it was not going to quieten down any time soon I would have a beer. As I stood at the bar a young lady pharmacist who worked in the hospital dispensary approached me. I had seen her there but did not know her name. And when she sat in the staff canteen she always sat quietly with couple of colleagues and did not mix much with other staff. It was very unusual to see her at a doctor's mess party.

"Hello Dr Anderson." she said in a soft lilting Welsh accent.

And then.

"Do you mind me talking to you for a minute but those three lads over there won't leave me alone and I'm a little uncomfortable. I'm Moira by the way."

I looked over toward the corner of the room where three young men were standing in a group. They looked half drunk and were pointedly eyeing her up. I recognised one of them as an X ray porter but did not know either of the other two, but assumed they were two mates who did not work at the hospital. In those days it was common for fellas to gate crash hospital parties to try and "pull" a nurse.

"Call me Roger." I said

"Don't worry they'll soon get bored and give up and go after somebody else. More than likely they'll have a few more pints and fall over."

We talked for a few minutes by which time the three men had vanished, and she wandered off to talk to somebody else, and a little time later people started drifting out of the room. Having not a lot to do and since I was not working in the morning I started to help with the clearing up, putting empty bottles in crates, collecting dirty glasses, and so on.

I had bent down to do something when I was aware of somebody standing in front of me, and when I stood up I saw it was Moira dressed in a thick winter coat.

I'm really sorry. She said

"My girlfriend who I came with has gone off with somebody, and those boys are hanging about outside the hospital gates, and I must walk past them alone to get home. Would you mind dreadfully walking me home. It's only a few hundred yards."

Put that way I did not feel I could refuse, so I asked her to wait, fetched a coat from my room, and off we went. Sure enough, the three guys were loitering as Moira had described, but did nothing but stare as we walked past them, and over my shoulder I saw them walk off in the opposite direction to the one in which we were headed.

After no more than a couple of minutes walking we came to her house. It was a small mid terraced house typical of Northern England and when we got there Moira invited me in.

The bottom floor of the house had a small entrance with a toilet leading off and a large front room and a kitchen behind. It was warm, clean, and neat and tidy. She took off her coat, took mine from me, and went to make coffee.

It was only when she sat down opposite me that I took my first proper look at her. I had never looked twice when I had seen her in passing at work, and when she had been at the party the lighting had been subdued. I had then walked her home in the dark when most of the time my mind had been on how to deal with three potentially aggressive drunks. I now saw she had brown shoulder length hair, large brown eyes, and freckled cheeks. She was of medium height, a little plump around the waist and had large breasts. As we talked and as she told me more about herself I remember thinking how easy she was to talk to, and I was suddenly very attracted by what I saw. At the same time, I was a little scared of her and did not know where to start. She looked so very pretty, and so very vulnerable and innocent.

Simply put Moira was more experienced than me. I was 26 years old and had slept with only one woman in my life. I had gone out with the same girl since I was sixteen years old and when she was fifteen, and we started to sleep with each other when I was 19 years old. This relationship had finished about a year previously. My knowledge of women was romanticised, limited, and mostly incorrect. I still thought of women as being made of porcelain, easy to break, and easy to offend, and imagined that their sexuality revolved around pleasing their man, more than their own sexual appetites.

Moira was a year older than me and had already told me she had divorced 4 years ago after 3 years of marriage, and that she was "off men" after her most recent boyfriend had slept with a nurse. Her ex-husband had been a violent drunk which explained her well placed fear of the men at the party.

I knew that I wanted to know Moira better and was in an ecstasy of indecision about how to go about it when Moira walked over to me, looked down at me in the armchair where I was sitting, bent over, and kissed me full on the lips.

I was shocked and excited in equal measure, but I knew enough to put my arms around her and kiss her hard back. She led me over to the lounge settee where we lay together, but it was uncomfortable, and we eventually ended up on the carpet.

As we lay together, I could feel myself harden against her and remember feeling embarrassed. Moira sensed my reluctance and took the lead. She loosened the buttons of her blouse and unclipped her bra, and then took my hand and placed it on her breast and murmured for me to rub her nipples lightly. She reached down and traced her hand along my bulging trousers from which my penis was striving to break free.

I have never been so aroused in my entire life. I was trembling with desire.

And then, Moira took me to her bed.

She told me later that she had never slept with a man on a first date before, and since her divorce had never slept with anybody in her own bed which was her sacrosanct place. She had wanted to sleep with me because I had been so kind in walking her home, and then I had been a gentleman and unlike nearly every man she had ever been alone with, not tried to rip her clothes off at the first opportunity. She felt she could trust me because she could see how shy I was, and she had kissed me because she knew I wasn't going to kiss her and then the moment would be lost.

She then added "I was also horny as hell."

When we got upstairs Moira did the completely unexpected. This is and was of course typical of her. She told me to undress for her whilst she undressed for me. Her body was beautiful. She had large firm watermelon breasts, narrow hips, and a large plump round bottom. Her tummy was ever so slightly Rubenesque, but this only added to her desirability and somehow it seemed to make her more attainable. And she was smooth and hairless.

Then she walked the shower and told me to get in. She ran the water hot and we soaped each other over our legs, arms, backs, and breasts. My penis was swollen and erect, but she deliberately kept her hands away and when I reached down to touch her she led my hand away and looked me in the eyes.

"No touching yet"

Then she rummaged around in the bathroom cabinet and emerged with a pink safety razor and shaving foam.

"Don't worry. I keep these for myself. Sex is so much nicer when you are smooth and clean and there is no hair in the way to spoil the sensation."

And then she knelt on the floor of the shower, and as the water cascaded off me onto her back, she shaved my balls and belly. When she had finished she gave the tip of my prick a little peck and led me back to the bed.

And that is when my education started. First we kissed again, and then when I felt I could wait no longer she took hold of me and using just three fingers gave me the most erotic handjob of my life. She kept me on edge for what seemed like forever, and finally as I kissed her erect nipples I ejaculated.

Moira turned lazily and smiled at me

"My turn now... whilst you recover."

And as she crooned with pleasure, she spread her legs wide and showed me how to lie between her legs and lick and suck her clitoris. Her orgasm came fast and hard, and as she came she reached down, held my head in her hands, and clamped her legs together. And while she came she screamed. And as I lay between them I could feel the muscles of her thighs clenching and relaxing.

Up until that moment I do not think I had given another human that kind of pleasure, or if I had, my one and only previous girlfriend had never shown it. Moira smiled down at me, asked me to lie on my back, and climbed onto me in a girl on top sixty-nine. As I licked her, she started to harden my penis with her tongue and hand, and as she worked on me I could see her clitoris was swelling and starting to protrude from underneath its hood, and her labia had swollen, reddened, and were glistening from her secretions. I continued to work on her with my tongue and she orgasmed again. Not just once but over and over again. Her entire perineum spasmed, and I could feel her bum cheeks and thighs tightening and relaxing and tightening again. And whilst she was taking her pleasure she was screaming Oh God! Oh God! Oh, how I love it! whilst all the time keeping a firm grip of my shaft

When I finally came up for air she lay beside me and then leant across and opened he bedside drawer and pulled out a battery powered 9-inch purple penis shaped dildo. She slowly pushed this into her vagina with he left hand whilst holding me with her right. She then asked me to kneel beside her and hold the vibrating tool so that it stayed deep inside whilst making firm contact with her clitoris and whilst she climaxed again I finally came in her mouth.

She lay in my arms that first night and I felt as if I had been reborn. For the first time I understood that a woman could genuinely love sex. And this innocent looking doe eyed young lady had a hidden side that I had never suspected might be there.

And then Moira apologised to me.

"I'm sorry I didn't let you inside me tonight, but I guess you don't carry condoms just in case do you? I'm not quite ready for babies yet."

The following week I was on call the Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I met Moira for lunch or tea when the workload and the patients would allow. On the Friday evening she proudly announced that she had started the pill the previous Tuesday, and by Sunday evening she would be ready. She knew I would probably be awake all Friday night and would need Saturday to recover, and as she left she told me to get plenty of rest.

And then.

"I haven't had a good fucking for over 4 months."

"Come over at 6 o'clock and come hungry."

"Come showered"

On Sunday precisely at 6 pm I arrived at her house and rang the bell and Moira answered the door and let me in.

All she was wearing was a black bikini comprising of a thong and a top which only just kept her ample breasts covered. I had barely come through the door when she turned and embraced me and as I grew hard she felt my hardness through my trousers and looking up at me said.

"Oh God I'm so wet! Please fuck me! No foreplay this time. Just put it in me!"

She turned stepped out of her thong and bent over the dining table with her wet lips framed between her beautiful bum cheeks, and I quickly stripped and slid my erect penis deep inside of her and she moaned. And as I fucked that beautiful sexy woman I felt myself to be harder than I had ever been. That evening as she lay over the table, and before I came inside her, she had three orgasms that could probably have been heard at the end of her street.

Then she took me upstairs to her bed and a little later slowly rode me again, until she climaxed, and we lay together side by side in bed tired and happy.

A little later I sat at the same table that Moira had bent over just after I arrived, although by now she had put some of her clothes back on. She proudly presented me with the most overcooked roast chicken I had ever eaten, with glutinous gravy, soggy sprouts, and roast potatoes like small boulders.

It appeared that I had misunderstood her when she instructed me to come hungry. For once it wasn't just sex she had been referring to.

I smiled and uncomplainingly started to eat the food she had prepared but she leaned across the table and put her hand on mine. It was the natural easy touch of a woman who cares and is indicating their claim. And as she did it she said.

"Don't eat it. We'll get a Chinese takeaway."

And so, we did.

And then we went back to her bed.

That was 25 years ago, and Moira and I are married. I have only slept with two women in my life and realise I have only loved one. She is all that I have ever needed. Her love for me has been constant and unwavering. In public she remains quiet, introverted, politely spoken, and never swears. In private and in bed she is uninhibited, inventive, generous, caring, foul mouthed, noisy and multiorgasmic. Moira is now in her early fifties and still has a voracious sexual appetite. She is just as beautiful as she ever was albeit a little rounder, but that is normal after bearing two children.

It has been said that to keep a man, "you must be a maid in the living room, a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom."

Moira has managed two out of three. The house is always clean and tidy.

But she still cannot cook, and if guests come to dinner Its me that cooks or we get a takeaway!