“This birth control works for you?”
“Yes Dr. Youngman. It’s fine.”
“Are you currently sexually active?”
I breathe in, this made me shower curtain wet, and I knew when he turned Flain would notice. He’ll be staring at my pussy, the lips swollen and ready, and we the only two in the room.
“I am not sexually active.”
“Okay. Very good. Thank you. I’ve got something for that.”
I laughed: “most men do now don’t they?”
“Most men don’t have this.”
When Flain Youngman turns to face me in the stirrups his cock is already brandished and there’s a nasty look in his eye. He says “I guess you won’t mind this? If you do, I’ll take it anyway.”
“Take what you want how you want it. You’re going to have to work.”
“My goodness, a mouthy little bitch.”
It’s two inches longer than Toby’s at the hardest and the width CAN’T fit inside me. I say “lock the fucking doors and bang me.”
“They’re locked. Don’t you scream.”
“Put your hand over my mouth. The other can fit around my throat.”
5.
Flain places his cock on the door of my pussy and says “look, that’s going inside you.”
“It’ll stretch. Fuck away.”
But it doesn’t. The cock is rejected. My mound is slick and wanting his meat but my tight little pussy misbehaves. Flain says “I don’t want to kill you. If I start ramming, we’ll probably get caught, and then I won’t have a job. Your reputation will take a big hit. I don’t want to affect your business.”
I move his hand to speak.
“Go slow in circles. It’ll eventually spread. You know how to treat a pussy.”
The steakthick head is revolved around my clit and it feels so good I moan. Flain places his hand over my mouth and conducts his whang with the other. The lips of my twot accept his circumcision then our progress comes to an impasse. I push forward with my hands to make him take me and when I do it’s like being sodomized, my pussy stretching over his cock. He removes his hand for my reaction.
“Have women been hospitalized when you butchered their vaginas with that?”
“It only knows my wife Rita. My God, I’m talking like it isn’t part of my body.”
“Sorry. I’m glad to be number two.”
“Don’t be sorry. At first she had trouble but after a year her body accepted my length.”
“A year? Was she in traction?”
“No, she was a virgin. I was gentle I guess.”
“Don’t be gentle with me.”
“I didn’t think you’d want me to be.”
“With this cock, really, you can’t.”
We can hear voices down the hallway and he says “Leeny’s not suspicious. She’s asked me to screw her ten times. I came in to work early three months ago and she blatantly requested to see it. We had, what I supposed, was a talk on harassment and then she asked again after that. I know she needs the job. I’ve begun to just say no.”
He’s fucking me now but I can’t take it all. I can see in his eyes he wants to pound me. Without asking he raises his clublike hand and smacks down on my outside thigh. After it lands Flain looks at the door to listen for anyone’s approach. There’s no reaction, knock or voices, and as he recommences his delicate plunge he asks “do you like to have your ass spanked?”
“More than I enjoy eating. You can’t hit it hard enough.”
This seems to upset him, though I don’t know why, for it’s as if there’s been a long line of asspoppers and he wants to be at the front. Again his hand covers my mouth, the other grasping my throat. I know I’m about to receive my punishment for unspecified verbal wrongdoing. My eyes get big and there’s fear inside them, though Flain Youngman knows what I want. I need the pain to feel alive. I’m not some hussy trapped in his stirrups with his fourteen-inch cock inside me. I like feeling sequestered, dominated and unfairly disciplined.
“Ready?”
I nod no.
“I’m going to fuck that snatch anyway.”
I wonder if beneath his hand the man can feel me smile. This is a PELVIC EXAM.
Flain looks off my shoulder to time the emptying of the hallway and then fucks me so hard I cry. It hits the tip top of my shallow fucking womb, bounces back, but he keeps on drilling. There’s no smack of skin, his balls hitting the table, and in the stirrups we aren’t joining. I am “in” the perfect position and Flain Youngman takes full advantage, his hand ratcheting down on the airway of my throat and he knows exactly what he’s doing, giving me enough wind through my nose, but not enough to draw attention, the waves of orgasm violently contractive as they rip through the sacredness of sex between humans and become the nasty and filthy, the man’s dick literally a tool for retribution and I want him to slap my face, to twist my fucking head around to the side and maybe make me bleed just a touch. Tomorrow I’ll have the tiniest of cuts to remember this assault really happened, and that I wanted that happening to contain his vile curses and then I think “wow, I’m fucked up” and that I’m glad Flain is game.
“Laney, I have something for you.”
He reads my eyes, fucks harder, and why can’t they hear us, with all the commotion in here? Flain lets me breathe freely, before he smothers me again, asking “may I wrench down on your throat?” I respond “with both of your hands. I know you know how to make it dangerous.” To piss him off more I backhand his face and it almost puts him on his ass. There will be no more throat grabbing. I’m going to be fucked through the wall.
“Okay then. If that’s how you want it. Take this you little rabid kitty.”
Flain does not care if fifty people come in. He frees my knees from the stirrups’ half cups and places them behind my ears. I’m going to receive it all to the balls and as much as he can give past that. To begin his fucking is slow. I receive four inches, that figure doubling and tripling, as his pace steadily increases. “Time to break this horse,” he whispers. He flows from a stroke to a pile driving force that puts my pussy beneath my tits, Flain fucking so hard and with so much exertion that my spine feels like a bow, loosened and stretched and I cannot breathe, but the more I resist, the harder he fucks, and the quicker his senses relate, the man figuring my reactions to bang me more aggressively while he whispers “take that bitch” and I respond “give it to me,” the smell in the room no longer of the cleaners, but of the sweat that flows from our bodies. As his balls pummel my anus my mind wants to see him release. As if Flain can divine my previous thought he pulls out and steps from the stirrups, my lower half going limp, ragging back into the cups, and Flain’s standing there masturbating, saying “Laney, open your mouth.” He doesn’t have to say it twice. The man is three feet away when I decide to lay back. To assist him I rip the gown. I’m naked before Flain with my pussy red and open and he can drench me with whatever he chooses, shoot his seed wherever Flain pleases.
The semen leaves his body with the urging of his fist yanking at his menacing cock. The initial shot hits the wall, the second I catch in my mouth, moving my head to the left to eat it and the rest he deposits on my breasts. Smothering me with his jewelwork. I am a fucking filthy mess. Raccoon eyes and a lip that is bleeding and he says “thank you Laney. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
“More hurting would’ve been fine. The amount you delivered was plenty.”
Dr. Flain Youngman has sweated through his shirt and his legs are trembling beneath him. He looks like he arrived with a warrant to fuck me and ended up fucking ten. I enjoy knowing that we are disheveled and here in a public place. There’s a weird space inside me that wants to get caught and another that wants to preserve this. To scrap book the shit like my mother. One day at a family reunion I’ll say “this was Dr. Flain Youngman, but it wasn’t a pelvic exam. Not the regular kind you might say. His dick was the size of a garden snake and his semen dented the wall. Okay, who wants coconut cake? Uncle R
eedy? Good! I’ll bring it!”
“Would you prefer to leave through the back? We have our own private entrance for those not wanting to be seen.”
“No, I’d like to fuck with Leeny. That is, if you wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all. Let’s collect ourselves.”
He’d timed our “exam” to the minute required so no one would be suspicious. We straightened ourselves to pass by the desk and exited the room in discussion.
“Laney, everything looks great. I’m glad you’re taking personal responsibility for your health and reproductive rights. All your equipment looks to be normal.”
I coquettishly smiled and then let him have it. This was the plan we’d concocted. Had to keep Leeny off balance. At our senior prom she’d blown the principal. Leeny sucked his dick in the woods behind the club and he thought no one saw them. Flain’s rejections must be driving her nuts. She had limited experience with “no.” Even less with raising her children. Now for my reaction.
“Dr. Youngman! I asked you to please not refer to my genitals as machinery for reproduction! My vagina is sacred! Mother earth’s womb! I believe the spirit resides there! I come from a long line of vaginal worshippers who know the magic therein! Our vaginas are our church!”
“Miss McComb. Forgive me. You have every single right to worship as you choose. I was completely out of order.”
“Now thank me for allowing you to enter my church with your digits! With the coldness of your touch and your brutal damn instruments and that cream you slathered all over me!”
“Thank you Miss McComb for the visit to your church and the opportunity that you gave me.”
“My vagina god goes by the name of Veerna!” Here I almost laughed. I just named my pussy Veerna. Flain tightened his face, made it look like disappointment, and then he greeted my vagina.
“Veerna! I thank you kindly for permitting the inspection of your inner sanctuary!”
This is now unfolding in front of the desk with the waiting room full of people. Food poisoning from the Chinese place. I looked down at my pussy and said “do you accept?” and then I stared at Dr. Youngman.
“Veerna accepts and is glad that you were able to make room for her inspection! A good night to you all and I’ll see you!”
I then pushed through the door and returned rather quickly to say “Leeny, the insurance is the same.”
Flain told me later that when I left there were sundry comments made. Leeny said “Laney’s always been a fuckin’ head case. A diggin’ them motherfuckin’ graves. Who wouldn’t draw a shipload of oddness?”
There were two other people from the Chinese buffet that came into Flain’s exam room. They asked if it were normal “to name yourn middlins?” or to “consider yourn pusslet a church?” He responded that it was, said he saw it every day, and then an eighty-year old toothless Dorman, there because she “et’ the fried rice,” made the following observation: “that Laney McComb is a good girl. Don’t hurt to worship yourn twot. Her granddaddy worshipped mine and her daddy hit it to and I reckon about a hunerd’ others. My sanctuary’s probly’ a mess. I’ll be needin’ to sandblast the fucker. Hellfire, just tear down the walls. Start over with a brand new tooty. Is that a service you provide Dr. Youngman? Damned if I wanna drive to Huntsville! All them fuckin’ rockets in that Space Center give me the dong chasin’ nightmares! They ought not leave ‘em out in the open!”
6.
We text for a week and that week leads to two and then he shows up at a gravesite. I’m beneath the backhoe adjusting the hydraulics and he stands there while I’m working. Saying nothing. Watching me be competent. When I need a socket Flain reaches down and hands it to me with a start: “holy shit Flain! Didn’t see you!”
“Seven-eights. Correct my dear?”
“Certainly. What’re you doing?”
“Well, after the clinic and the stirrup lovemaking I thought I’d give it two weeks. Sufficient time has passed, although I know you’re enjoying my texts.”
“Yes, I also enjoy sending you naked photos that barely fit on your flip phone screen.”
“I swear Laney. I tried to snap a pic of my penis with the phone but it won’t make any noise. The instruction book is somewhere in storage. Been a long decade since I read it.”
When I begin laughing I cannot stop. Flain is a tremendous geek. And an old school one at that. He has a pen holder in the coat that he’s wearing and his glasses are so scratched that if his face were attacked he couldn’t protect himself. He’d claw at the air in blindness.
“Dr. Youngman, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but your flip phone is somewhat cameraless.”
He thought this over. Why think this over? It has a camera or it doesn’t.
“Cameralism? Why would my flip phone contain the mercantilism of a group of 18th century German public administrators emphasizing economic policies designed to strengthen the power of the ruler and efficiently seize debate?”
“Not cameralism!” My Lord Jesus! He’s nerdy and cute! “Your flip phone doesn’t have a CAMERA! It’s less a camera, therefore it is cameraless!”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you. I couldn’t find a camera. But I did discover THE WORM GAME, though I’m not very good at playing it.”
Hilarious. THE WORM GAME was post fucking Atari and I thought that was beautiful. I could see the good doctor, there in his office, WORMING on his phone between patients. He’d have very little trouble finding the hole. The problem was getting it in. Lord, the man had a cock.
“Anyway Laney, the reason I’m here, and so you don’t have to be seen with me in public, is…”
“What? I’d think you wouldn’t want to be seen with me because everyone would think I’m chasing money.”
“I’d love nothing more than to be seen with you. As for money, I don’t have a lot. I’m really good, my accountant says ‘bad,’ at giving it away to charities. I don’t have much interest in being all that comfortable because things only distract you. I’m easily entertained.”
“So tell me. Why’re you here?”
“Oh, I wanted to know if you’d like to come tomorrow evening to eat at my house?”
“Will it be a date?”
“Do you want it to be? As for myself, I’d like that a lot.”
“Can I ask you a question before it comes up and we have to work our way around it?”
“You can always ask me anything.”
“Will I be the first woman inside that house since your wife passed away?”
He is silent. What did I do? Right now in his head was he traveling through his memories or waiting for Rita to speak? To say “Flain, don’t let her in there! She’s twenty-three! You screwed her in the stirrups!”
“Yes Laney. That will be you. You’ll be the first one, I haven’t even dated, but it’s clean and the larder is full.”
“The larder is full?” I then laugh for thirty seconds and he has no idea why the hell I’m even laughing. “Have you stored food up to abduct me? Been canning beans and peas and tomatoes for the winter so you can sequester me naked in the basement? Chain me to the radiator? Have your filthy way with my body? Look here Dr. Youngman! If you’re trolling for sex slaves I’ll be happy to help! But don’t let the secret out!”
He doesn’t get it. Over his head. That’s precious. Damn, he’s funny.
“I can. I like to can. And yes, I have a garden. But no, nothing like that. I have a Rick James’ cassette tape. That’s about as crazy as I get.”
“A larder? Who says larder?”
“Sorry. Pantry. Is that better?”
I told him I was teasing and he gave a sweet smile and said “you have to remember our age difference. You were raised massaged by technology. I was not. I loaded crossties. Baled hay and milked dairy cows.”
Adorable. I loved older men. With their big mature cocks and relaxed career focus. Assured, confident and direct. He was giving me a life’s lesson. It made me so wet my panties slid to the side, though I had
to get one more jab in.
“But Dr. Youngman, look now, who’s the manual laborer underneath her laboring machine?”
“Touche’, smart girl,” he replied. “Will you come? I’d like you to come. We could go to a gas station beforehand. That, or walk through Wal-Mart?”
Funny. Still being funny. “Flain, why would we do that?”
“To be seen in a public place. Actually, the public sphere.”
“Crazy man. Of course I’ll come.”
“What’s the earliest you can get there?”
Pause. See, he’s older. Doesn’t give a fuck about being cool or acting like he needs to be distant. He wants to spend time with me. Wants me there early so he can have me to himself and he doesn’t give a shit about mysteriousness. Watch, I’ll prove my point. I learned this from reading really great novels that keep you in a world of art, which can also be a world of reality, far beyond the one that we know.”
“Any reason for me to come early?”
“So we have more time together.”
There it is. Fucking beautiful. A man through and through. I’d like to suck his big dick right where he’s standing, but the people at the funeral home would film it, and pump their schlongs to the shit for a year. Those creepy bastards gawk through the window.
“I know where you live and I’ll be there at six. May have to come a little greasy. Can I…”
“You can shower at my house. Bring your clothes.”
Next day I called and said “6:15.” I was arriving looking smoking hot. Testing the waters, because I’m a touch crazy, I showed up at 5:45. I was perceptibly and obviously there to fornicate and my outfit screamed “excuse me, would you mind banging me to pieces? Chaining me to your radiator? I thought about that and I’d appreciate it. It was a great idea.”
“Laney! Glad to see you! Come in!”
The Rick James’ cassette tape is throbbing in a stereo from circa 1980. He was busy in the kitchen, cutting this and slicing that, and didn’t turn until he could acknowledge me. “Give me a second. Noodles are boiling. Cutting vegetables for a big fresh salad.” I stood in the doorway, scanning the room. Small house, two bedrooms with the smell of clean linens. No, a dryer, that’s a dryer. I love the smell from a dryer vent.
Stirrups Page 4