Unmitigated Shrew

"Remove your boxers or I'll fight you until you stop trying to get me in the shower or you end up hurting me," she snarled.

"What the hell?" I thought. I shed my boxers. She stared at my cock and smiled.

I went up to her, knelt beside her, and put the plastic sleeve over her cast and taped it shut on top. Of course I couldn't do this without looking at her pussy - which was right next to my face as I taped her up. She got an evil grin on her face then tossed the towel aside exposing her ponderous mammaries.

Holy shit did she look good. Maybe the best tits and crotch that I had ever seen in my life. I tried to suppress it but my traitorous cock went "boing!"

I stood up trying to turn my body so that she couldn't see the state of my cock but she did see it. "I thought you said that I wasn't that hot - apparently your little dick thinks differently," she snickered.

To clarify, my dick isn't little; it is large even for my 6 foot 3 inch frame, but I expected nothing less from the unmitigated shrew. "My dick only responds to visual stimuli. It knows that your body is mega-hot but when your evil personality is factored in you're only lukewarm; don't let my cock's instinctive reaction inflate your already over-inflated ego," I snapped back.

I lifted her, got in back of her, and then helped her into the shower as she hopped on her good leg. I simply held her up as she washed herself with soap. Once her front was clean I soaped up her back - she had already soaped her ass - and the back of her good leg. Then I turned her toward me to rinse off her back. I tried not to look at her merchandise as I did that, and she looked down, earnestly trying to avoid eye contact but apparently studying my still hard cock.

After I turned off the water and helped her out of the shower she dried off most of her body; I dried her back and legs. I dried myself off, put on my clothes as she held a towel over her privates while sitting on the bench, and once I was dressed I knelt in front of her - and that luscious looking pussy - and removed the plastic sleeve on her leg. After she put her robe on I carried her back to her bedroom, helped her get dressed - while trying as hard as possible not to look at her body - and when she was dressed I took her on an excursion.

We said nothing more about "the incident" until just before Joseph was due home. We both appeared to be embarrassed - I know that I was. Finally she said "Look, do we have to tell Joseph that the female assistant quit?"

"I don't know that I want to help you with the shower - or otherwise help you in the bathroom. It's embarrassing and you obviously don't like it," I replied.

"Can't we wait just a few more days to see - maybe we can develop a routine. Please - I promise to treat you nicer, call you fewer names; I just don't want to deal with Joseph's shit when he finds out," she said in the softest voice since I met her.

"If you don't call me names how can I be sure that it's you and not some cyborg look-a-like?" I grinned.

She actually grinned back. When she wasn't snarling she had the most beautiful face of any woman I had ever seen live. "Please," she whined.

"OK, we'll give it a couple of days," I responded.

That night I beat my meat to the largest masturbation orgasm I have ever had. Guess who I was thinking about?

*************

The best laid plans of mice and men...yadda, yadda, yadda. Our new arrangement lasted all of two days before in the shower I inadvertently touched one of her nipples. She gasped, and then groaned. "You can't do that; my nipples are almost the most orgasmic part of my body."

I backed off, but now that she was "almost" nice to me and I had gotten a few good looks at her equipment I was starting to lose it. The third day I intentionally pinched one nipple, then the other, in the shower. I thought she was going to climax right there - in fact I think that she did after I played with the nipples a couple of minutes. When I turned her toward me to rinse off her back she grabbed my saluting cock. I spontaneously came.

No words were spoken while we dried off, put on a minimum amount of clothing, and I carried her back to her room. When I deposited her on the mattress I striped completely, moved her robe aside, and went after her pussy with my tongue, lips, and one hand while the other hand worked over a nipple. She moaned and squirmed until I simultaneously pinched a nipple and tongued her clit. She came like a hurricane and almost flipped off the bed. I had to hold her good thigh down with the hand that had been stimulating her labia to keep her in place.

After her second orgasm courtesy of my mouth and fingers, I went to the top of her dresser and got some lotion. Because of the cast I knew that I couldn't fuck her pussy, but I needed relief. Plus, those tits looked so damn inviting...

I put lotion on the insides of her tits and mounted her. She squeezed her tits together while looking at me with glazed-over eyes. I proceeded to enjoy the best titty fuck in my experience and when I came all over her chin and chest I swear that she had another orgasm herself.

As we lay next to each other in post-orgasmic bliss I realized that we had never kissed. I pressed my lips to hers. She responded in kind. After a couple of aftershocks I got up on an elbow and tried to stare into her soul.

"You plan on taking advantage of me again?" she whispered.

"You plan on taking advantage of me?" I grinned.

"You gonna fuck my pussy when my cast is cut to below the knee next week?"

"I would love nothing better," I grinned.

"Let me suck your cock while you give me another oral orgasm," she smiled.

I didn't refuse.

Even though she had to stop sucking my cock once her orgasm hit, once it subsided she finished me off, swallowing.

Of course we had to take another shower before I put clean sheets on her bed. There was a lot of testicle and nipple manipulation in the second shower, but no attempt to cause one or both of us to orgasm so that we might fall.

I was a little chagrined talking to Joseph that night, but after he went in to see Michelle he returned smiling. "Things seem to be working out," he said.

"I think that it's the exercise and excursions that are lifting her spirits," I partially lied.

Michelle and I unabashedly continued to have oral sex and titty fucks until the day finally came for her cast to be cut down to just below the knee. I took her to the doctor's office for the procedure, and at Michelle's insistence was allowed to remain in the room while the doctor interviewed Michelle. The doctor was pleased with her progress.

A strange thing had happened during the past ten days or so. Michelle no longer was an unmitigated shrew. In fact, she wasn't a shrew at all. She was actually pleasant and upbeat not just with me but with everyone we encountered. The difference was so dramatic that the day before we went to get the cast cut Joseph met me in his study. With tears in his eyes he shook my hand. "Thank you for giving me my wife back," she slobbered. "Whatever you're doing, please keep doing it."

That made me feel like a shit - but also encouraged. I would keep doing what I had been - and more - until Michelle was the happiest woman on the planet.

************

The day that Michelle had her cast cut down and the next one, I simply massaged her recently uncovered left thigh, and we started exercises that would reverse the atrophy of her left thigh muscle. The third day after removal of the thigh part of the cast neither of us could wait any longer. When my cock entered her pussy it was the best feeling in my life, and based upon her low growls and groans it may have been for her too. When I - seemingly too quickly, but it didn't turn out that way - ejaculated in her it was the most intense orgasm of my life, and she simultaneously exploded like a nuclear weapon.

The next several days we fucked like minks, each orgasm seemingly topping the previous ones. When Joseph told me that he had to go on a week-long business trip and asked if he could dismiss the nighttime caretaker and have me spend the night, I acted coy while joyous inside. "If I can rearrange a couple of things I had planned, I will," I eventually "reluctantly" replied.

"There's a $5,000 bonus for you if you can," he smiled.

"Will that make me a gigolo?" I comically asked myself before thanking him profusely.

My life the next week was the best it had ever been up until that point. The new Michelle and I clicked on many levels. Her physical situation was now such that we could go to plays, restaurants, movies, and almost any other outing that we wanted to. We worked out together in her exercise room to the extent that we could, always showered together even though she could now manage by herself, and fucked and sucked all night. I had more orgasms per day than I thought were humanly possible.

Michelle got the rest of her cast off, and was pronounced completely rehabilitated if she continued with my proscribed exercises, about ten days before I had to leave to go back to school. Obviously we could no longer stay together in her mansion once that occurred, but we were able to somehow manage to meet for an hour or so every day and play hide-the-salami.

Michelle was concerned that her now very pleasant disposition would desert her for her unmitigated shrew persona once I left; but I had a solution. In a heart-to-heart conversation after an extremely rewarding intercourse session during lunchtime at my apartment eight days before I left I gave her my opinion.

"Michelle, I think that the reason that you had a personality change after your miscarriage and operation were because your body was not effectively producing oxytocin and dopamine, which are neurotransmitters important to a feeling of well-being. Our intense sexual relationship flooded your brain with both oxytocin and dopamine which are produced during an orgasm. I think that you'll now be fine, especially since you've renewed sexual relations with Joseph. However, there are some steps you can take to insure that."

"What?" she asked while massaging my testicles until I playfully slapped her hand away.

"First, there is an oxytocin nasal spray that you can get via prescription. It is sold under the trademarks Pitocin or Syntocinon. Also, you should eat foods with high levels of oxytocin including figs, avocados, spinach, green tea, and watermelon. Dopamine also is in high concentrations in unprocessed meats, dairy, almonds, walnuts, and especially bananas," I replied.

"Your banana certainly is full of dopamine, isn't it, stud?" she chuckled while fondling my limp cock and quickly bringing it back to life.

"You're so bad," I groaned. "Promise me that you'll try the nasal spray and foods I suggested," I moaned.

"I will if you produce some more oxytocin and dopamine in me right now," she whispered as she mounted me once my cock was to her liking.

Of course I was late for work, but no one said anything about it. Dr. Preston had made it known to me and everyone else that I dealt with that I was a superstar for making hospital board of directors chairman Joseph Orton extremely satisfied with my caretaker duties - so happy that he gave the hospital another million dollars to upgrade several important pieces of equipment, and me another $5,000 in addition to my earlier bonus for the drudgery of fucking his wife constantly for five days.

My last day of work Dr. Preston called me into his office again. With a big smile on his face he vigorously shook my hand, handed me a bonus check for yet another $5,000, and reminded me to contact him for letters of recommendation to all of the medical schools I applied to "Especially my alma mater Cornell, which I may be able to get you a scholarship to."

After I thanked him with a sly smile he said "I understand that you also suggested a nasal spray and diet for Mrs. Orton."

"Uh...yes...uh...I thought that she might...have a lack of...uh...oxytocin and dopamine," I stuttered. "I hope that wasn't improper," I sweated.

"Sounds like good advice," he chuckled. "I wonder how you came to that diagnosis Brad?" he continued and then winked at me.

He fucking winked at me!

I was shell-shocked, but he distracted me when he immediately said "Thanks again for your help, Brad, and remember to think about Cornell," as he again shook my hand and ushered me out of his office.

*************

Michelle and I had tearfully agreed not to have any more than cursory contact once I returned to school; we didn't want a scandal. However, after having the best sex imaginable for more than two months, I was in a funk now that I was deprived of it. I watched a couple of videos that I had recorded of some of our best sex sessions, but they only served to make me more wistful. Fortunately I was able to keep up with my studies, although I had no social life.

About the only really good thing was that with my bonuses and salary from my summer internship I was able to pay off all of my college loans.

I was really getting depressed around Thanksgiving. My parents had recently moved two thousand miles away so incurring the expense and time commitment necessary for going home for Thanksgiving wasn't a real option, and staying in my dorm during that time seemed depressing as hell. Also, I hadn't heard from Michelle in a month.

Just when things were the darkest I got a call on my cell from a number that I didn't recognize, no caller ID. I almost pressed the red button because I was sure that it was a solicitation, but I thought "what the Hell?" and pressed the green one.

"Hi Brad, this is Michelle," came the sing-song upbeat voice that I knew well.

I asked how she was doing. "Still on an even keel emotionally. The nasal spray seems to help, and I've eaten so many avocados I'm almost green and eaten so many bananas that I'll probably grow a cock; that, plus boinging Joseph once or twice a week, means I haven't lost any staff and get no eye rolls at the country club."

We both laughed heartily.

After we talked about other things in our lives and exchanged expressions of longing she said "I have a proposition for you. Want to hear it?"

"Hell yeah," I replied.

"If I send you cash for a first class ticket to Miami would you meet me there from the Wednesday before Thanksgiving until the Monday morning after it? I'll be at the Fontainebleau Miami Beach?"

"That's the most rhetorical question that I've ever been asked," I laughed. "How can you get away, though?"

"Joseph is going to see his daughter - who's only three years younger than I am - and his two grandchildren. I alienated her during my bad days after my miscarriage and she doesn't want me there even though Joseph has told her that I've changed. I told Joseph that I needed some beach time anyway, and there are no hard feelings, and I sent each of his grandkids a present," she chuckled.

I instantaneously went from depressed to ecstatic.

Our five nights together in Miami Beach were like a dream come true. We not only fucked each other's brains out, but we connected on a basic level that had I known what romantic love was at the time I would have sworn was true love. However, we both realized that a further life together was not to be, and we parted for good with the knowledge that we would have the best memories imaginable from our time together.

After my Miami Beach vacation I returned with a renewed vigor and optimism about life.

More good fortune was to come. With Dr. Preston's sterling recommendation and my qualifying grades and work experience I got into Cornell medical school with a partial scholarship. I got a second scholarship that I hadn't even remembered applying for when I got to campus, one that would mean that I would have enough money for living expenses and for all of the rest of my tuition so that when I graduated I would be debt-free.

I was so busy that I never even questioned my second scholarship. That is until one night I had vivid dreams of Michelle and woke up with a hard-on, and the next day someone said something to me indicating friendly jealousy about my scholarship that should have been innocuous but raised a red flag.

Over the next couple of weeks, working on someone I knew in the scholarship office (OK, so I fucked her - multiple times - I'm a gigolo) I found out that Mrs. Michelle Orton was the one responsible for my second scholarship.

I didn't have a working number for Michelle since we hadn't talked since our five heavenly nights in Miami Beach, but I finagled one from Dr. Preston's secretary. I called Michelle and thanked her profusely.

"You were never supposed to know, Brad," she said, obviously embarrassed.

"I'll never tell anyone else. It merely cements in my mind that my best relationship ever to this point in my life is the one with you," I replied almost in tears.

"Use the scholarship to become as great a doctor as you were a lover, then I, and the rest of the world, will be blessed," she said, obviously choking up herself; then she abruptly terminated the call.

*************

*************

When the limo driver dropped me off after I read about Michelle's demise I was low. However, after I passionately kissed my darling wife, the love of my life that I met at Cornell, and hugged my teenage kids, my spirits were uplifted.

I silently thanked Michelle one more time as I wrote a check for $10,000 to be given in her name to her favorite charity. She was significantly responsible for my happy life, and I hoped that her life had been as rewarding as mine had been since we parted ways.