Monday, 10 October 2011

The Doctor


Il dottore signed in at the desk. Just in from Milan, the stylish man in his early 40s would operate tomorrow on the VIP. He is the best in his field. The clerk hands him the room card, room 951, top floor. Little does he know, cards to the same room had been handed to another couple earlier in the day.

In room 951, the wife, years younger than her husband and beautiful beyond compare, lays resting on a settee. Slim, blond, a figure to die for. She is nervous. An accident last year had left her blind. For 12 months she had been unable to see the colours and sights that had made her world sing. She prayed that this unfamiliar world of constant darkness would end. Her husband a respected figure had not coped well with the loss. Guilt for being at the wheel when the accident had happened. More guilt for being over the drink limit and shame for using his connections to cover it up. His wife did not escape so lightly.

Sex had been a problem for a year. He could not bring himself to invade her body. He could only pleasure her. Oral stimulation for her was a release, but a good solid living phallus inside her was what she craved. She thought about this as she rested. Her husband was absent. He had gone downstairs and would return shortly.

The Italian places the card in the lock and lets himself in. He sees the woman, a vision from heaven. 'Dio mio, che bella', he thinks. He checks the door. This is the right room. He is an important man, and a big job to do tomorrow, but he has not expected this courteous welcome from his sponsors. He removes his overcoat and jacket, loosens his tie and approaches this representative of perfection. He is in awe; 'Bella, bellissima, il viso dell'angelo'. He drops to his knees and inspects her carefully. She is dozing, her breasts rise and fall rhythmically. He watches transfixed at their perfect shape and symmetry. She wears a sheer gown. He can see that she wears no underthings. She is here for him.

His lips brush hers tenderly. A little lip gloss transfers to him. He nuzzles delicately around her face. An Italian recognises and appreciates real beauty intuitively and especially in 'la donna', the woman. He strokes her legs allowing them to become uncovered. First outside her thighs and then on the inner faces, moving higher towards her now exposed mound of gentle fair hair, and those recesses which, he from practice, knows only too well how to bring to life.

She is feeling warm and languid, relaxed by the attentions of this stranger.  As she comes to consciousness, she is pleasantly surprised by the unexpected ministrations of her husband.  She opens her unseeing eyes.  Sensing the movement, he glances upward and is mesmerised by the sight of those beautiful pale, pale blue eyes, looking down towards him.  The eyes that he will come to know so well and which, shall haunt his dreams.

He murmurs quietly.  ‘Cara, ti amo. Tu sei un miracolo’.  She hardly hears, but is instantly aware that this person giving her such pleasurable feelings in her belly, her legs and those places between, is not her husband.  She dare not react.  This man may do her harm.  Her first thought is that he may be a rapist, but he is so gentle and loving, that cannot be the case.

He moves towards her breasts, opening the gown fully.  He kisses each nipple gently in turn.  Flicking his tongue around, encouraging the buds to their own erection and gently, so very gently, chewing on each tip.  He continues to whisper to her encouragingly, softly urging her to join in with him.  He brings her fingers to his shirt.  She opens the buttons and removes the tie.  She feels the expensive fabrics and takes in the scent of his body.  He whispers to her with a foreign tongue.  She understands certain words.  ‘Bella’, beautiful.  ‘Cara’, darling.

She is kissing his body.  She removes his belt.  He steps away out of reach.  She wonders what has gone wrong.  He returns, taking her trembling hands and placing them on his naked hips.  She feels his firm buttocks and then returns towards that which she most longs.  Finger over finger towards his manhood.  She feels his pubic hair, she knows what she covets is so close.  A fingertip touches.  Two, four, eight and thumbs and still she has not encircled it.  It is thick, thicker than anything she has imagined and certainly felt.  The penis is erect, slanting keenly upwards and a little to one side.  It is firm, very firm and unexpectedly hot.  Her fingertips are hot.  This penis is on fire.  She feels it throb.  A pulse runs through a fingertip on its base.  She is almost too frightened to explore its length.  She imagines that its bulbous tip is just an inch from her face.  She holds him at arms length and begins to move her fingers along its length.  Now she curls her fingers around this enormous stem.  She can’t take this.  She wants it, but can she take it?  How much could she get in?  She explores further, one palm width followed by a second and even a third.  My God!  It is huge!

Her hands tremble.  The stranger’s hands are caressing her face, guiding her head gently forward.  She feels the warm bulb pressed gently against her lips.  Again, a little more insistently and she opens her mouth.  It glides between her lips and rests against her teeth.  Wider and the massive rod enters, pressing her tongue down and back in her mouth.  The bulb is trapped between the roof of her mouth and tongue, and her lips are barely passed the bulbous knob end.  She has the penis grasped firmly in her two hands and still there is naked cock hanging out of her mouth.  She can’t lick and so, she sucks, gently, opening her mouth a little to take more inside.  Any further and she will have to take it into her throat.  A whole year and now a cock to choke on, is a thought in her mind.  The stranger whispers softly and she senses that he is fighting an urge to force her on to his giant woman slayer.  He knows that would end the magic of this moment.  So far, but not far enough, yet almost too far.

She knows that this is the time for the real deal.  Penis into vagina, prick into love tunnel, cock into cunt, but will she manage him?  Yes, please Lord, please?  This is turning into a religious experience.  He fights all his urges and withdraws from her mouth.  Five inches are wet, little more than half.  He needs to be buried deep inside her, as much as she needs him.  It is the man’s turn to dominate.  He chooses the position.  He draws her forward on to her hands and knees.  Spreads her knees apart and forces her head to the floor.  He is behind her and in control.  He brings the head of his shaft to her sexual lips, the entrance to her room.  He gently fingers her entrance and stimulates her clitoris until her juices flow on his fingers.  She is ready.  He thrusts gently towards her.  The first sensation is one of stretching, opening and surrounding his enormous bulb.  She reaches one hand back to grasp his rod.  She is going to count the finger widths inside of her.  3.4.5.6, she is losing count.  He must be half in by now.  This position is not ideal and she is filling up fast.  She feels him pushing up towards her belly.  Then he withdraws a few inches.  She suddenly feels empty, like a vacuum.  He returns a fraction deeper.  Three gentle thrusts later, she is in ecstasy.  These are not feelings she had forgotten, but an experience completely new to her and she loves it.  He continues to pump in her steadily.  He senses her limits.  He is not fully in.  She knows this.  She can feel his cock sliding in and out across her palm.

First sensations of an approaching orgasm begin to ripple through.  Almost imagined, but then perceptibly there.  He is nearly ready to come.  The thrusts are more powerful, a little faster, even a little deeper.  She is moaning and losing control.  She leans herself back on to him.  This tightens their bond.  They are moving to the same rhythm, thrusting together as one body.  She is tight around him and he feels every movement on his shaft.  His orgasm is rising.  Soon, very soon he will come.  She has come already and is racing towards her next orgasm.

He pumps faster and suddenly stops.  She feels his penis throbbing inside her.  He is not moving, but the penis is pulsing.  It is forcing his seed from his balls, down the length of his shaft to the bulb, ready to explode into her vagina.  She feels each pulse, racing from end to end.  First concentrating at the base of his cock and then moving steadily towards the tip.  She knows he is about to come.  She can feel the sensations so deep inside her.  He explodes into her and she feels the hot liquid jetting up high inside her.  The loving strangers collapse exhausted.

This night will end.  He does not yet know it, but the handsome Italian will see those captivating pale blue eyes again ……..

…….. tomorrow when he restores the sight of his VIP patient.